Silence. Despair. It was as if a sorrowful aura from a distant, ancient era had descended upon the land.
At that moment, countless corrupted elements surged from the magic circle beneath Imshi, rising and gathering in the sky. Soon, a ghostly image of an archaic pipe organ slowly materialized behind her.
The phantom organ soared tens of meters high, with over thirty thousand thick pipes.
Woooo~
Suddenly, a deep, mournful hum echoed. It was grand and desolate, like a symphony played directly into one's ears, sending chills from head to toe, as if undergoing a divine cleansing.
In the next instant, thick tendrils wrapped around the pipe organ. The organ visibly began to decay, covered in all kinds of marine parasites, as if it were an ancient relic sunk in the depths of the ocean for tens of thousands of years.
"Now, everyone, enjoy this symphony of despair.
First movement: The Lament of the Fallen."
With elegance, Imshi bowed to Morrigan below and slowly drew a short wand from her waist. Using it as a conductor's baton, she began to gently wave it.
With her gestures, the massive organ behind her emitted mournful dirges. The sound wept and lamented, telling the most desperate stories of the world.
Yet under this eerie music, Morrigan felt nothing unusual.
Her unblinking eyes were fixed on Imshi, always ready to counter her next move.
Time passed, and still, Imshi focused solely on conducting her music, showing no intention of attacking.
"Master, she has made her move."
At that moment, Nif's voice, relayed through the chip hidden in the back of Morrigan's head, reached Helm.
"She's made her move? What's happening?"
"It's a type of illusion magic that disrupts the mind. But it seems it only affects the mind, not the soul.
Moreover, Morrigan's body has been transformed into an undead vessel, essentially mindless.
So this magic has no effect on the master."
"I see."
Hearing Niv's explanation, Hel, secretly controlling Morrigan, let out a sigh of relief.
She casually dissipated the defensive magic she had prepared and quietly began forming a new spell.
On the surface, she controlled Morrigan to display a pained and desperate expression.
Since the enemy believed she was affected, it gave her precious time to prepare her next spell.
"Master, Miss Vivian and the others won't be able to hold on much longer. Should I take them away first?"
"Go, but be careful."
With Hel's permission, Niv guided the puppet horse silently to Vivian.
She conjured a giant elemental hand of fire behind the horse, gently grasped the back collar of Vivian's coat, and lifted her onto the puppet horse's back.
Even though Niv controlled the hand's temperature carefully, faint wisps of smoke rose from Vivian's collar, carrying the pungent scent of scorching cloth.
"Hm?"
Imshi, previously focused on her performance, smelled the burning and immediately sensed something was wrong.
Her eyes snapped open, fixing on the puppet horse sneaking away with Vivian.
She instantly understood the situation.
"An alchemical creature, is it? How rare."
Saying this, a thick tendril detached from the organ and violently lashed toward the puppet horse.
Just as it was about to wrap around the horse and Vivian, a dense wave of death energy wrapped around the tendril.
The tendril withered and decayed, eventually disintegrating into countless drifting corrupted elements.
At that moment, a cold female voice rang out.
Supreme Death Magic: The End Bell.
Instantly, a massive surge of death energy shot skyward, briefly dispersing the surrounding corruption.
Even people tens of miles away in Selerphis City felt a bone-chilling cold.
Saint-tier experts stationed at the Watch Wall were startled by the soaring death energy.
They looked on in disbelief.
The Hand of Judgment's face changed; he tried to fly toward the source of the energy.
However, Gale the Wind Witch unleashed a massive wind blade hundreds of meters wide along their path, forcibly blocking their advance.
"How dare you? First, you claimed Saint-tier powers wouldn't intervene, and now you backtrack? Do you think we in the Supreme Church are so easy to deal with?"
"You…"
Facing the domineering Wind Witch, the Hand of Judgment clenched his fist, said nothing, and silently returned to his ranks.
However, he subtly signaled a nearby cleric, who understood immediately.
The cleric pulled out a small mirror engraved with the Church emblem and secretly sent a message.
Soon, several support squads marching toward Selerphis City received orders from the Archbishop:
"Advance at full speed. Support the Angel."
Thus, all squads abandoned restraint, desperately channeling all their elemental energy toward Selerphis City.
They didn't consider whether exhausting all their energy would result in them dying pointlessly on the battlefield.
Their goal was singular: protect the Angel at all costs.
Meanwhile, the dense death energy finally gathered above Hel's head.
It gradually solidified, forming a towering clock tower.
The tower had thirteen levels, each adorned with carvings of various creatures—ordinary humans, common animals, angels, demons, and even devils.
They wailed in despair, their bodies supporting the upper levels of the tower.
If they faltered, the upper levels would mercilessly crush them into pulp.
At the tower's peak, a massive bone bell hung silently, forged from countless skeletons.
Suddenly, the bell swayed, emitting a toll that chilled the soul.
"When the midnight bell tolls, all beings shall meet their death equally."