Volume 1 Chapter 675

Chapter 675: Shining Starlight, Creepy Netherworld!

"Never-ending Night" Philtes stared at the crown coalescing above Kanor’s head, failing to recognize its nature.

Yet his primal instincts warned him…

This amalgamating metallic form radiated profound danger!!

A Great Sage’s intuition indeed carried substantial credibility.

The swirling coronet taking shape above Kanor wasn’t her original creation,

but rather an emulation of the "Crown of the Forgotten" she’d previously encountered.

Her brief exposure to that artifact had granted her complete mastery over its structure and arcane mechanisms.

This crown’s configuration stood as the ultimate vessel for channeling the "death" concept and its associated mystical energies – a true Divine Artifact!

Even disregarding its dual significance as both the core symbol of the "Death Divine Kingdom" and legacy vessel of the Death God,

merely evaluated as a magic device, it unquestionably deserved its "Divine" designation!

Any wearer would gain partial dominion over death’s essence and soul manipulation.

For someone like Kanor – who’d already plumbed death’s depths and nearly became its inheritor…

wielding this primordial force became as effortless as breathing!

The deathly aura swirling around her originated not from Philtes’ assault,

but from her own unfathomable power.

While ordinary forbidden spells might’ve caused physical devastation,

Philtes’ recently invoked starlight curse represented the purest ancient Star Spirit magic –

deceptively subtle yet lethally precise,

striking directly at the soul’s essence…

Precisely where Kanor’s defenses proved absolute!

What soul-targeting attack could possibly affect one already merged with death’s essence?!

Philtes’ face twisted into a rictus of dread.

"Divine Authority!!"

He perceived the crown’s dreadful bestowal upon the girl.

It granted her…

A deity’s prerogative!!!

Near-divine puissance, conceptual manipulation, reality-altering capabilities –

privileges meant solely for gods, forbidden upon the mainland plane.

Yet this power stemmed not from theft nor Divine Artifact,

but (as Philtes acutely sensed) from the argent fluid coursing through her veins –

an enigmatic ancient alchemical construct,

utterly distinct from Divine Artifacts in origin and essence!

Kanor’s laughter rang clear through the charged air.

"Shall you grovel now, oh Great Sage?"

As she spoke, she gently tapped the crown adorning her head. Translucent phantoms began materializing from the ground, their tattered finery clinging to forms that shifted between bloodied flesh and exposed bone. Death magic coalesced the lingering remnants of "fractured souls" into vengeful spirits answering Kanor’s call.

Within the Heretic Tribunal’s dungeon, the last thing in short supply… were the souls of fallen powerhouses!! Countless generations of The Church of Light’s elite – those who’d met wrongful deaths, borne unjust accusations, or simply clung to bitter grudges – had accumulated over millennia into a formidable host. The absence of undead uprisings here stemmed not from lack of restless spirits, but from being imprisoned beneath both the Holy Capital and Heretic Tribunal’s watchful eyes. Though suppressed by dual layers of divine spells, these souls had never fully relinquished their residual power…

Now energized by the Star Spirit Realm’s overflowing magic and shifting spell formations, these chaotic forces found new vitality through Kanor’s mastery over death’s dominion. One by one, they emerged from shadowed depths as undead – first singly, then in ever-growing numbers until the entire dungeon teemed with their ghastly presence.

Even the observing bishops and Grand Knights, who’d maintained stoic silence during the earlier clash between outsiders, now stirred uneasily. Though most spirits appeared as mangled flesh or skeletal remains, many bore familiar features from church frescoes and scripture illustrations. Some even resembled mentors of mentors, or other ancestral figures.

"What… blasphemous desecration!" someone exclaimed through gritted teeth. Yet their outrage remained impotent – all knew attacking the girl would merely add fresh recruits to the undead legion. Though no longer silent, the prisoners remained powerless.

Compared to "Never-ending Night" Philtes, however, they were fortunate indeed. Sweat slicked the archmage’s palms as he surveyed the spectral host. "This arena favors your talents," he remarked, tightening his grip on the "Ever-Burning Azure Flame" and "Branches of the Truth-Illusion Tree." "But just as Star Spirit Magic fails against you, these wraiths will find me… elusive." With a flourish of foliage, he wove starlight into a shimmering veil around himself.

Kanor’s lips curved in amusement. "Who said they’re here to attack you?" she countered, raising her hands like a maestro preparing a symphony. At her gesture, the undead lurched forward – not toward Philtes, but toward the glowing nexus behind him, the core of his spellcraft and conduit to the Star Spirit Realm.

Within his domain, each twinkling starlight represented a channel to that celestial plane. The stable passage Philtes had created for his earlier incantation now became his vulnerability. For magic’s flow, no conduit remains one-way…

As death-tainted spirits poured through the starlit gateway into the Star Spirit Realm, "Never-ending Night" Philtes’ complexion drained to corpse-like pallor.