Chapter 182: The Mad Emperor

The High Priestess did not cast a fireball or summon a gravity domain. She manipulated the very life force radiating from the corrupted throne.

The jagged crystals embedded in the Emperor’s chest flared violently. A sickening, wet tearing sound echoed through the hall as the massive, fleshy veins crawling across the floor abruptly detached themselves from the marble.

The corrupted biomass rapidly coiled and twisted, forming into three massive, grotesque monstrosities. They resembled towering, multi-limbed arachnids constructed entirely from hardened bone, rotting muscle, and pulsing violet crystals.

"Keep the pets busy," Leon ordered, his tactical mind instantly dissecting the battlefield. "I am going after the priestess."

The strike team moved with flawless synchronization.

Beatrice and Elara engaged the horrific arachnid on the left flank. The Ice Queen unleashed a sweeping torrent of absolute zero mist, aggressively freezing the creature’s jointed limbs to the floor. Elara capitalized on the immobilization, hurling concentrated spheres of blistering fire that shattered the frozen appendages with deafening explosions.

Isolde and Valeriana targeted the creature on the right. The Emerald Knight danced through the chaotic fray, her glowing rapier piercing the vulnerable, fleshy joints of the monster. The spy provided crucial covering fire, launching throwing knives laced with highly concentrated, explosive alchemy she had scavenged from the underworld markets.

Seraphina did not bother with the flanks. The silver-haired warlord charged the central monstrosity, her broadsword igniting into a massive pillar of searing crimson heat. She swung the blade in a devastating arc, cleaving the arachnid’s armored skull cleanly in two.

With the terrifying guardians occupied, Leon blurred into motion.

He activated Kinetic Overload, ignoring the dull, throbbing pain in his ribs. He crossed the vast expanse of the throne room in a terrifying, imperceptible streak of dark motion. He bounded up the marble steps of the dais, his heavy weapon raised to deliver a catastrophic, lethal strike directly to Morgana’s head.

The High Priestess did not flinch. She did not raise a magical shield.

As the heavy blunt steel descended, Morgana simply smiled and took a single step backward, merging seamlessly into the shadows cast by the grotesque throne.

Leon’s weapon smashed violently into the marble steps, generating a massive concussive shockwave that shattered the stone, but the Priestess was completely gone.

"You rely entirely on brute physical momentum," Morgana’s smooth voice echoed from all directions, bouncing confusingly off the blood-stained windows. "But how do you punch a target that exists in a dozen places at once?"

Suddenly, the air in the throne room shimmered.

Ten identical copies of the High Priestess materialized around the perimeter of the dais. They all possessed the exact same serene smile, the same flowing violet gown, and the same suffocating magical signature.

Illusion magic. But it was incredibly dense, backed by the limitless power funneling through the tormented Emperor.

Leon stood from the crater he had created, his sharp midnight eyes sweeping over the multiple targets. He couldn’t rely on his tracking senses; every single illusion radiated genuine heat and a heartbeat.

"Fascinating," one of the Morganas mocked, stepping forward. "You look so confused. Will you swing wildly, hoping to strike true? Or will you tire yourself out chasing ghosts?"

Leon rolled his broad shoulders, a dark, feral grin slowly spreading across his striking face.

"I don’t chase ghosts," Leon rumbled, his grip tightening on his heavy weapon. "I just clear the room."

Chapter 179: The Divination Priestess

The ten identical copies of Lady Morgana circled the raised dais, their movements fluid and flawlessly synchronized. The air vibrated with a sickening, chaotic hum as the High Priestess prepared to overwhelm the towering warlord.

"You cannot win this, feral dog," the illusions chanted in unison, their voices overlapping in a dizzying, hypnotic chorus. "The Vaelorian portal is stabilizing. The first vanguard of the Obsidian King is stepping onto imperial soil."

Leon did not waste energy bantering with phantoms. He aggressively channeled his raw kinetic power, pouring an astronomical surge of mass directly into his heavy steel weapon. He widened his stance, anchoring his heavy leather boots securely against the shattered marble.

He did not attempt to guess which figure was the real Morgana. He activated Kinetic Repulsion at maximum capacity, blending it with a brutal, 360-degree horizontal swing.

The massive steel blade tore through the air, generating a devastating, omnidirectional shockwave of pure concussive force.

The shockwave exploded outward, violently slamming into the perimeter of the dais. Seven of the Morgana illusions were instantly obliterated, popping like fragile soap bubbles as the sheer physical pressure disrupted their delicate magical matrices.

The remaining three figures staggered backward, their serene smiles faltering for a brief fraction of a second.

"Clever," the three remaining priestesses hissed simultaneously. "But ultimately futile."

The three figures raised their pale hands, summoning long, jagged whips constructed from crackling violet lightning. They lashed out, striking with terrifying, serpentine speed.

Leon bobbed and weaved, utilizing his monstrous Agility to avoid the lethal energy. The whips cracked against the marble floor, melting deep, smoking gouges into the stone. He parried one strike with the flat of his blade, his Aura Hardening absorbing the worst of the electrical shock, but the localized pain sent a sharp jolt through his arms.

He needed to pinpoint the original caster, and he needed to do it quickly.

A floating interface materialized in his peripheral vision, casting a faint, golden glow amidst the chaotic violet lightning.

[System Notice: The Spy’s Precision]

[The beautiful quartermaster has the tools to pierce this deception, but she is pinned down by the corrupted beasts. Give her a clear line of sight and demand her brilliance.]

[Objective: Kick the nearest beast backward to free Valeriana. Lock eyes with her, flash a confident grin, and shout that you need her beautiful eyes to find the real witch.]

[Reward: +25 Perception, 700 Shameless Points.]

Leon welcomed the prompt, instantly pivoting his tactical approach.

He abandoned the dais, diving back into the chaotic fray on the main floor. Valeriana was currently trapped behind a shattered wooden pew, desperately hurling explosive knives to keep one of the grotesque arachnid monsters at bay.

Leon closed the distance in a blur. He leaped into the air, driving a devastating, kinetic-laced double dropkick directly into the monster’s armored carapace.

The concussive impact shattered the creature’s exoskeleton, launching the massive beast backward into a stone pillar where it collapsed into a twitching, ruined heap.

Valeriana gasped for air, lowering her remaining knives as the towering warlord landed smoothly in front of her.

Leon turned his head, locking his intense midnight gaze with her wide, terrified eyes. He offered a dark, wildly confident grin that completely contrasted the apocalyptic violence surrounding them.

"I need your beautiful eyes to find the real witch, Valeriana," Leon shouted, pointing his heavy blade toward the dais.

The sheer, undeniable romantic dominance of the demand violently scrambled her panic. A brilliant red flush painted her pale cheeks, her professional composure instantly reasserting itself under the intoxicating weight of his trust.

She pulled her glowing tracking compass from her pocket, her fingers dancing rapidly over the crystal interface.

[A surge of profound sensory clarity flooded his mind as the system digested his success. His Perception spiked, slowing the chaotic world to a manageable crawl.]

"The one on the far left!" Valeriana screamed, pointing a delicate finger toward the dais. "The other two lack an internal heartbeat signature!"

Leon didn’t hesitate. He launched himself off the marble floor, rocketing back toward the throne.

The Morgana on the far left realized her deception was broken. She dropped her lightning whip, desperately attempting to initiate a localized spatial fold to escape.

But Leon’s newly enhanced Perception allowed him to track her subtle muscular twitches before she even finished forming the spell.

He bypassed her magical defenses entirely, stepping directly into her personal space. He dropped his heavy weapon, reaching out with both hands to firmly grip the High Priestess by her slender throat.

Morgana choked, her pale eyes wide with genuine, horrifying terror as the towering brute hoisted her effortlessly off the floor.

"Your parlor tricks are incredibly annoying," Leon whispered darkly, his deep voice vibrating with absolute lethal intent.

He aggressively slammed her onto the hard marble steps, pinning her beneath his heavy boot.

The remaining illusions instantly vanished, leaving only the broken, bleeding High Priestess gasping for air.

"You... you cannot stop it," Morgana coughed, a twisted, blood-stained smile crossing her face. "The Emperor is dead. The anchor is severed. The portal is open."

Leon looked up.

The grotesque, fleshy veins connecting the Emperor to the floor had rapidly withered and turned to gray ash. The frail ruler slumped forward in the iron throne, his chest completely still.

But the damage was already done.

At the very back of the throne room, the grand stone wall was violently tearing open. A massive, swirling vortex of pitch-black energy expanded rapidly, revealing the terrifying, jagged silhouette of an encroaching army. The heavy, rhythmic marching of thousands of armored boots echoed ominously from the void.

The Obsidian Kingdom of Vaeloria had arrived, and the true war for the continent was about to begin.