Free Web NovelChapter 224: An Overdue Retribution
Stormblade Desolate Domain
General Kaelor’s entourage drifted in the sky as they steadily and militarily approached the central citadel. They escorted the four Omni Queens as if they were the queens of the Stormblade Desolate Domain, which isn’t far from the reality if thought about.
The scene before the group was truly majestic and serene, with countless floating islands and unlimited flowing energy. Hundreds of thousands of magical beasts and creatures roamed the skies below the passing group, the beasts being ridden by hundreds of thousands of cultivators in a chaotic traffic.
But met with the majestic and kingly design of the desolate domain, the omni queens remained indifferent, their faces unimpressed as they graciously drifted behind General Kaelor’s entourage. But unlike her sisters, Goddess Thalia’s face was solemn, a certain memory recounting in her mind as she stared into the horizon.
-----
(Decades of Immortal Cycles Ago)
In the God Domain of the Magic Universe Vastoria, on the western continent of Planet Vastoria, a chaotic battle ensued: hundreds of millions, if not billions, of humans, magical beasts, elves, and trolls fought together against an endless wave of magical devil beasts. The beasts poured from unknown portals situated in the skies over the continent, with each portal birthing hundreds of millions endlessly.
Below, the group of billions of the opposing force faced the beasts fearlessly with each racial group unleashing their most devastating attacks and ferociousness on the oncoming monsters.
"Oh sacred saints, we pray you bless our sacred race with divine agility and foresight."
The elven race prayed in conhesion with lifted arms as the skies suddenly opened and an endless wave of white magical energy descended on them, revitalizing their essences and magical spirits anew. Their sudden blessing made the elves more brazen and courageous as they launched at the monsters with more tenacity and devastation than the other races. Their magical powers were amplified as they unleashed devastating attacks against the wave of magical devil beasts, clearing hundreds of millions of devil beasts from the battlefield with ease.
Next, the dwarf race rushed with hammers and magical pickaxes in droves; then, coming to a sudden halt, the tens of millions of dwarfs in the foremost formation knelt and bent over, as if setting a stepping stone for the next formation. And indeed, as anticipated, the second formation of dwarfs stepped on the kneeling formation as they leaped in the skies, their jumps boosted by magic, sending them higher in the sky as they all simultaneously bellowed,
"Dwarfven gods of old, in our hammers and pick axes, let your might unfold!"
Like bringing down the wrath of the gods, blazing blue magical flames erupted on the hammers and pick axes as they descended with a heavy, obliterating smash. A chaotic blast of flames pulverized the earth, pulverizing hundreds of millions of devil beasts along the way and clearing a portion of the scene.
Now it was the trolls’ turn. Towering figures with mottled green and gray skin, their muscular bodies covered in ritualistic bone armor and glowing runes, the troll legions—numbering over two hundred million—formed a colossal phalanx that shook the very ground. Their shamans, ancient beings with elongated tusks and staffs carved from world trees, raised their voices in a thunderous chant that echoed across the battlefield.
"Great Troll Father, Vor’galash the Unyielding! Blood of the Mountain, Rage of the Eternal Wilds! Hear your children in this hour of devourment! Grant us the strength to crush the void-spawn!"
The air grew heavy with primal energy. Dark storm clouds swirled above the troll lines, crackling with crimson lightning. From the largest portal, a swarm of colossal devil beasts—winged abominations with obsidian scales and acid-dripping maws—swooped down. But the trolls stood firm.
A deafening roar split the heavens. A massive ethereal projection of Vor’galash manifested: a colossal troll god with rivers of lava flowing through his veins and eyes like burning embers. The projection slammed a spectral fist into the earth, sending shockwaves that empowered every troll warrior.
Troll bodies swelled with divine power. Their muscles bulged to twice their size, wounds that would have been fatal closed instantly with writhing regenerative flesh, and their weapons—massive clubs, axes, and spears—ignited with verdant flames that burned away corruption. The trolls charged with earth-shattering roars.
"FOR VOR’GALASH!" they bellowed as one.
The first wave of empowered trolls met the devil beasts head-on. A single swing of a shaman-king’s club, now infused with the god’s might, shattered a hundred-meter-long devil serpent into bloody mist. Regenerative blood sprayed across the field, but instead of weakening, it empowered nearby trolls further, healing allies and corroding enemy hides. Troll berserkers leaped dozens of meters, tearing through wings and throats with bare hands that could crush mountains. Their regenerative powers, amplified a thousandfold, allowed them to survive being bisected, only to reform and counterattack with greater fury.
Entire formations of devil beasts were exterminated in minutes. Where the elves had used grace and the dwarves precision, the trolls brought raw, unrelenting annihilation. Mountains of devil beast corpses piled up, and the portals themselves seemed to shudder as Vor’galash’s projection roared again, sending a beam of primal energy that sealed three lesser rifts temporarily.
The allied forces cheered at the sight, their morale soaring. But not all prayers were answered. freewёbnoνel.com
In the central human command, where the royal banners of the Western Continent fluttered defiantly, King Augustine and Queen Thalga stood at the forefront. They were the undisputed leaders of the human domains on Vastoria’s western lands—rulers of vast cities, keepers of ancient arcane libraries, and protectors of billions.
Queen Thalga, in particular, was renowned as one of the greatest warriors across the entire planet. Her silver-white armor gleamed under the blood-red skies, and her legendary blade, Aetherion’s Edge, hummed with star-forged power.
At another scene, young Princess Thalia—barely sixteen cycles old—was not on the field. Instead, she watched from the safety of the floating royal citadel, her wide eyes fixed on a massive magical orb that displayed the entire battlefield in crystalline detail.
Thalia’s small hands gripped the orb’s pedestal, her heart pounding, and her eyes widening with anticipation.
"Father... Mother..." she whispered.
King Augustine raised his voice, his golden cape billowing. "O Divine Sovereign of Humanity, Eternal Light of the Cosmos! We, your faithful children, face oblivion! Grant us your holy radiance! Bless our blades and shields as you have in ages past! Do not abandon us in our darkest hour!"
Millions of human soldiers echoed the prayer, their voices rising in a unified crescendo. Priests channeled sacred magical formations, drawing intricate runes in the air. Families huddled together, mothers holding children while fathers gripped weapons, all looking skyward with desperate hope.
But the skies remained silent.
No divine light descended. No ethereal blessing warmed their souls. The portals above continued vomiting forth horrors—swarms of shadow drakes, flesh-eating swarms, and titanic void titans that crushed entire regiments underfoot.
The humans fought valiantly, nonetheless. Elite human mages unleashed barrages of arcane missiles, sworders formed shield walls that held for precious moments, and cavalry charged into the fray on enchanted steeds. But without divine amplification, they were outmatched. Where elves danced through the hordes, and trolls regenerated through impossible wounds, humans fell by the tens of millions.
Queen Thalga refused to yield. She led the charge personally, her blade slicing through devil beasts with masterful precision. Each swing cleaved multiple foes, her movements a deadly ballet of power and grace. She cleaved the head from a colossal bone horror, then spun to impale a flying terror through its core. "For Vastoria! Stand firm, my people!"
King Augustine fought beside her, his warhammer creating craters with every impact. But the numbers were overwhelming. A tide of lesser devil imps swarmed a flank, and despite the king’s efforts, thousands perished.
From the citadel, young Thalia watched in growing horror. The magical orb showed every detail in horrifying clarity: the screams, the blood soaking the earth, the way human bodies were torn apart while other races received heavenly aid. Tears streamed down her face as she saw her father’s forces dwindle.
"Why isn’t He answering?" she cried out to the empty throne room. Attendants tried to comfort her, but she pushed them away, eyes locked on the orb.
On the battlefield, Queen Thalga faced an overwhelming number of devil beasts, her end drawing near based on the endless horde. A massive void titan—easily five kilometers tall, formed of writhing darkness and jagged crystal—emerged from the largest portal. It ignored the blessed trolls and elves, drawn instead to the unblessed human center like a predator sensing weakness.
"Thalga! Retreat now! I order you!" King Augustine shouted, his voice filled with desperation and pleading as he also fought his overwhelming horde. But despite her husband and king’s command, Queen Thalor stood her ground.
"I am Queen Thalga of the Western Continent! You shall not pass while I draw breath!" she roared, channeling all her personal power. Her body glowed with inner light as she activated her ultimate technique—Astral Sovereign Slash. A beam of pure stellar energy erupted from Aetherion’s Edge, slicing upward toward the titan’s core.
The attack connected, carving a deep wound across the behemoth’s chest. Black ichor rained down like corrosive rain. But the titan retaliated with overwhelming force. A colossal claw of pure void energy slammed down, faster than even the great queen could evade.
The impact created a crater kilometers wide. The shockwave killed hundreds of thousands of nearby humans instantly. When the dust settled, Queen Thalga lay broken, her legendary armor shattered, Aetherion’s Edge snapped in two. Blood flowed from countless wounds, yet she still lifted her head defiantly.
"Thalia... Cilena... my daughters... live..." she whispered with her final breath.
The titan stomped again, erasing her completely.
King Augustine witnessed it all. His anguished cry echoed across the field as he charged recklessly, only to be overwhelmed moments later. The human lines collapsed entirely. What had been a proud army of hundreds of millions was reduced to scattered remnants fleeing in terror. Over seventy percent of human forces perished in that single catastrophic hour.
In the citadel, the magical orb flickered with the final moments of Queen Thalga’s stand. Young Thalia screamed, falling to her knees as the image of her mother’s broken form burned into her soul. Behind her, hiding behind their mother’s throne was Cilena, Thalia’s younger sister. Her innocent eyes shone with confusion, oblivious to her sister’s and maidservants’ plight, her obliviousness attributed to her young age of 3 cycles.
The devastation was absolute. Servants wept around her, but Thalia’s grief transformed into something colder—something sharper.
She stood slowly, fists clenched until her nails drew blood. "The gods... ignored us. When we needed them the most, when billions prayed with pure hearts... he turned away. Mother... Father..."
Tears mixed with fury on her young face. "I swear on your souls, Mother. I will grow strong. Stronger than any god. And one day, I will make the Divine Sovereign pay for his silence. I will tear down the heavens themselves if I must. Revenge... for you. For all of us."
(End)
-----
The memory faded as the battlefield’s echoes dimmed in Goddess Thalia’s mind.
Back in the present, floating toward the central citadel of Stormblade Desolate Domain, Thalia’s expression remained solemn. Her sisters, as quiet as her as they approached the central citadel. Twenty immortal cycles had passed, which is two million mortal years, and yet the pain felt as fresh as that day.
She had kept her vow. Through relentless cultivation, alliances with forbidden powers, and journeys across countless realms in Vastoria. Her later encounter with Kiltrax led to her being ascended to Omni Queen status. The god of Vastoria had not shown himself again—not to her, not to the remnants of humanity who survived that purge. In the centuries that followed, Thalia had grown distant from blind faith, forging her own path of power, up to the point of now being an Omnivastance existence, an existence only below her husband’s, who is an Absolute Omnivastant Being.
General Kaelor led the entourage as they finally reached the central citadel.
The entourage continued onward, passing through layers of protective formations that hummed with ancient energy. Below, the chaotic traffic of cultivators and beasts continued uninterrupted, oblivious to the inner turmoil of one of their honored guests.
As they approached the grand gates of the central citadel—a colossal structure carved from a single floating mountain infused with storm essence. The grand gates opened wide, welcoming the party. freēwēbηovel.c૦m
The grand gates of the central citadel swung open with a resonant boom that echoed like thunder across the floating islands. A wave of dense, storm-infused spiritual energy washed over the Omni Queens as they stepped into the inner sanctum. The air itself crackled with latent power, thick enough to make lesser cultivators choke. Yet the four divine beauties—Athena, Anastasia, Thalia, and Elaine—glided forward with effortless grace, their expressions still carrying traces of indifference.
The passage opened into a massive, grand throne room that defied mortal comprehension. The chamber spanned several kilometers in width, its ceiling lost in swirling clouds of condensed primordial energy where lightning dragons coiled lazily. Pillars carved from ancient stormhearts rose like titanic spears, pulsing with runes that could erase entire realms. The floor was a living map of the Desolate Domain, with miniature floating islands drifting across its surface, reflecting the real ones outside.
Hundreds of Saint Ancestor and Heaven Realm cultivators lined both sides of the opulent hall, all clad in powerful armors forged from void-forged steel and storm essence. Their auras radiated outward in oppressive waves—some sharp as blades, others heavy as collapsing stars. Each warrior stood at attention, eyes gleaming with fanatical loyalty. Their armors hummed with active formations, ready to unleash annihilation at a single command.
At the far end, elevated upon a throne sculpted from a fallen comet and bound by chains of eternal lightning, sat Avatar Lord Valthor. He appeared as a handsome young man in his prime, with sharp, devilish features: crimson eyes that smoldered like twin abysses, sleek black hair cascading like living shadows, and polished obsidian horns curving elegantly from his temples. His presence alone dwarfed every general and saint combined. The air around him warped, as if reality itself struggled to contain his power.
Lord Valthor smiled as the Omni Queens approached, a calculated expression of regal welcome masking deeper ambitions.
"Welcome, esteemed guests—to the heart of the Stormblade Desolate Domain," he proclaimed, his voice smooth and resonant, carrying subtle charms woven with soul-binding intent. "It is an honor to host such transcendent beauties. Your presence graces this domain like stars illuminating a barren sky. I, Avatar Lord Valthor, offer you not merely hospitality, but a place of true belonging. Serve under my banner, and together we shall claim dominion over countless universes. Your power and grace would be... most complementary to my vision."
The avatar spoke, going straight to the point and not beating around the bush. His words dripped with magnetic allure, reinforced by invisible threads of dao intent meant to seduce and subordinate. He leaned forward slightly, his devilish charm radiating as he locked eyes with each queen in turn, lingering longest on Thalia.
The Omni Queens remained utterly unimpressed. Athena’s lips curled in faint disdain. Anastasia examined her nails with boredom. Elaine yawned delicately. Thalia, still carrying the weight of her ancient memory, simply stared through him as if he were an insignificant insect buzzing in the distance. They had sensed his intentions before even entering the domain. A being like Valthor seeking to recruit—or rather, charm—goddesses of their caliber was not only transparent but laughably pathetic.
Valthor’s smile faltered after several beats of cold silence. His crimson eyes narrowed, the cordial warmth draining away like blood from a corpse.
"So... you dare ignore my generosity?" His tone shifted sharply, laced with impatience and rising arrogance. "You think yourselves above me? In my own domain? How foolish. I offered you glory. Now you will taste consequences."
He raised a hand, power flaring around him as a storm unleashed.
"General Kaelor—kill them. All of you, attack! Show these arrogant bitches the price of defying the Avatar!"
General Kaelor, who had been courteous and welcoming mere moments ago, transformed instantly. His face twisted into savage loyalty as he drew his massive stormblade. Without hesitation, he launched forward like a comet, leading the charge. "As you wish, Lord Valthor!" he exclaimed.
The entire hall erupted into chaos.
Hundreds of Saint Ancestor and Heaven Realm cultivators simultaneously activated their most powerful laws and Daos. The air ignited with destructive energy. General Kaelor struck first, his blade expanding into a thousand-kilometer phantom slash infused with the Law of Annihilating Storms. Lightning chains erupted from the floor, attempting to bind the Queens while razor winds sliced space itself.
At the same moment, dozens of other generals unleashed their daos:
One summoned the Dao of Eternal Void, creating black holes that swallowed light and matter, pulling everything toward oblivion. Another activated the Law of Thousandfold Destruction, multiplying his attacks into an endless barrage of exploding spears. Heaven Realm saints channeled forbidden arts—blood-burning formations, soul-shattering screams, and mountain-crushing fists reinforced by domain-suppressing arrays.
The grand throne room trembled violently. Cracks spiderwebbed across the living floor. Pillars groaned under the pressure. The combined assault was devastating enough to erase an entire lesser world in seconds.
Yet the Omni Queens stood motionless for a heartbeat, their expressions unchanging.
Then they moved.
Athena stepped forward first. With a casual wave of her hand, she manifested the Dao of Absolute Dominion. A golden ripple spread outward, freezing every incoming attack mid-air. Kaelor’s thousand-kilometer storm slash shattered like glass against an invisible wall. The black holes collapsed in on themselves harmlessly. "Pathetic," she murmured.
Anastasia laughed softly, her eyes glowing with lunar fury. She invoked the Law of Eternal Reflection. Every attack launched against them was instantly reversed, multiplied tenfold. Generals who had hurled destruction found themselves impaled by their own techniques. Screams filled the hall as dozens of Saint Ancestors were bisected by their own void spears or consumed by their replicated black holes. Blood and shattered armor rained across the opulent floor.
Thalia, her solemn mood now fueling cold wrath, extended her palm. Drawing upon the memory of her mother’s death and her vow, she released the Omni Essence of Vengeful Stars. Countless stellar blades materialized, each one carrying the weight of a fallen civilization. They pierced through the elite cultivators with surgical cruelty. A Heaven Realm general who boasted the strongest defensive Dao found his armor and body shredded into cosmic dust. Thalia’s attacks were precise and merciless—targeting those who had charged most aggressively.
Elaine moved with playful lethality. Her Dao of Fractured Reality warped space around the attackers. Generals found their own limbs moving against them, their powerful armors turning into prisons of crushing gravity. One after another, they fell—bodies exploding in showers of gore as their most treasured techniques backfired catastrophically.
General Kaelor, refusing to yield, poured everything into a final suicidal strike. He burned his life essence, merging with the storm essence of the entire citadel to become a living cataclysm. "Die for the Avatar!" he screamed, transforming into a miles-wide lightning titan that descended upon the Queens.
Thalia met him personally. With a single finger, she pierced through his transformed chest, unraveling his very existence. Kaelor’s titan form disintegrated in a brilliant flash, leaving nothing but fading sparks and a final, shocked expression on his dissolving face.
The battle lasted mere moments, yet the devastation was apocalyptic. The grand throne room was ruined—pillars toppled, the living floor shattered, blood and broken weapons strewn everywhere. Hundreds of elite cultivators lay dead or dying, their powerful auras snuffed out like candles. The few survivors who had not joined the initial charge trembled in terror, backing away from the four untouched goddesses.
Not a single scratch marred the Omni Queens. Their dresses remained pristine, their hair unmoved by the apocalyptic energies that had raged around them.
Lord Valthor had not lifted a finger throughout the massacre. He remained seated on his high throne, watching with a chilling, self-satisfied smile. His confidence radiated outward, unnaturally intense, as if the slaughter of his most loyal forces meant nothing—or perhaps exactly what he had anticipated. The air around him grew heavier, thicker, more oppressive.
As the last general’s corpse hit the ground with a wet thud, Valthor finally spoke, his voice calm and laced with dark amusement.
"Since you are done, now I have your undivided attention."
