Free Web NovelChapter 1641: Clash of the Divine
Lizard City. The trial had begun.
Channeling the terrible might of his weapon and the lingering power of a forbidden spell, Pallas moved. His eight arms blurred in a deadly dance, manifesting a spectral trident in each grasp. With every forward dash, one of his arms merged into the Spite of the Wrathful Star. After eight consecutive surges, Pallas himself transformed into a massive, blood-red trident.
This was his masterwork: the Eight-Fold Charge. An original technique forged from every martial discipline he had studied since childhood. It amplified his combat power eightfold in an instant.
"Interesting."
Pallas was clearly nothing like Slagor. Though both stood at the peak of the legendary tier, the gap in their actual combat strength was like night and day.
Symethis sensed this shift and discarded any lingering underestimation. The great sun behind him flared with boundless brilliance. Orbs of platinum fire fused into his summoned spear of light. As the weapon reached critical mass, Symethis launched his own counter-charge without hesitation.
A golden sun plummeted; a crimson spear surged to meet it. High and low, gold and red clashed.
Hiss... Crackle...
Before the two combatants even made physical contact, the raw manifestations of their power began to grind against each other. It was like two anvils of red-hot iron slamming together, sparking and warping under the immense pressure. There was no immediate explosion, only a ferocious shower of sparks.
"Brother, can our little brother win?"
’Little brother’ was Tarn’s affectionate nickname for Pallas. Having grown up together within the Horde, Pallas shared a tight bond with Fergus and Tarn. They were cousins, but the blood ran thick, and Pallas had long earned their absolute respect. The loyalty was mutual. It was why Pallas had pushed himself to the limit to rush to their aid earlier. And it was why Fergus and Tarn had left the safety of their home to serve the Horde at The Bastion Wall alongside him.
"Hard to say." Fergus squinted at the sky, his brow furrowed as he tracked the clash. "He’s at a disadvantage."
He didn’t wait for Tarn to ask why.
"Pallas is attacking upward. That Symethis holds the high ground. And his bloodline is extraordinary. Feel it for yourself—his bloodline strength rivals our own. The Solar Celestials... I’ve never even heard of them. Must be some ancient faction. Given his sheer arrogance, he’s likely a scout sent by these foreign powers to test the strength and resolve of the Stoneheart Horde." Fergus’s expression darkened. "Pallas has to win this." freeweɓnøvel.com
While Tarn viewed it as a simple duel, Fergus saw the bigger picture. He knew firsthand how much blood and sweat it had taken to elevate the Stoneheart Horde from nothing. To expand and hold their territory, they needed absolute strength. Inside and out, from the highest chieftain to the lowest grunt. Tian King Orion was already an unstoppable force. Now, it was up to their generation to prove their worth.
"The Solar Celestials?" Tarn muttered.
Before he could ask more, the stalemate in the sky broke. A victor emerged in a split second.
BOOM! freewebnσvel.cøm
After grinding away at each other’s auras, Pallas and Symethis finally collided—and ricocheted apart just as fast. Only then did the earth-shattering boom of their impact catch up to them.
CRASH!
The explosion was followed by a deafening thud as Pallas slammed into the earth. He had lost the exchange, but the fight was far from over. As Orion’s direct descendant and a second-generation Stoneheart Titan, Pallas’s body was impossibly resilient.
Deep within a fresh crater, Pallas rose. His hair was wild, his body drenched in blood. Yet, his fighting spirit burned brighter than ever. This was the most exhilarating battle of his life. Back in the Horde, sparring matches were always safe. His kin pulled their punches or telegraphed their moves out of respect. This was different. The very real threat of death had fully awakened his ancestral blood.
"You’re strong! I admit, I can’t beat you directly!" He shouted it without a shred of shame. As the true Giant Prince of the Stoneheart Horde, he had the pride and clarity to acknowledge his own limits.
"I see it now. You must be a first-generation divine bloodline descendant, or you never would have survived that strike!" Raised by an elite faction, Symethis had quickly pieced things together after clashing with both Slagor and Pallas. "But you’re too weak!" Symethis sneered. "You disgrace your divine blood! Those of us born with divine blood are meant to be supreme. We are entities the lesser races must look up to. But you? Heh. You aren’t even an Arch Lord. You’re a joke!"
High above, Symethis stabilized himself mid-air. Another great sun formed behind his back, and ethereal, blazing armor materialized over his form, making him look utterly untouchable.
"Maybe!" Pallas felt neither anger nor humiliation at the enemy’s contempt. In that moment, he thought of his eldest brother and sister—two monsters whose talents defied logic.
They’re probably preparing to break through to demigod by now. And I’m not even an Arch Lord.
Symethis was right. Compared to his siblings, Pallas felt like he truly was tarnishing his father’s Stoneheart Titan blood.
"However! Whether I disgrace my bloodline or not isn’t for you to decide. You have no right to judge me!" Pallas roared, clasping his eight hands together. He launched himself into the sky like a raging beast. "Now, I’m going to smelt you down!"
"Under the gaze of the Titan God! I offer mortal flesh as kindling to ignite the Fatebone within! Let the sacrifice of life draw down the divine will!"
Pallas raised a hand. An oppressive aura erupted, locking down both space and soul, pinning Symethis firmly in place.
This was a Divine Art: Rite of Fatebound Offering!
Though he hadn’t yet reached the rank of Arch Lord, his first-generation divine blood allowed him to channel his own life force to cast a Divine Art effortlessly.
The Rite of Fatebound Offering was a technique designed to smelt a living sacrifice into a weapon. Held fast by its invisible chains, Symethis finally showed fear. He couldn’t break a lock forged by a Divine Art with sheer strength alone. Barring a miracle, he was a dead man.
However, Symethis wasn’t going to die that easily. Just as Pallas’s giant hand reached out to crush him, a brilliant black light erupted from the center of Symethis’s brow. The dark radiance engulfed Symethis entirely, crystallizing into a shell of pitch-black diamond.
"A Divine Art for a Divine Art... The inviolable Obsidian Sunburst!" Symethis’s voice echoed from within. "As long as this black light burns, your seal is useless! Hahaha! Did you really think you were the only one holding a Divine Art?"
Though he had trusted his masters wouldn’t simply throw him away, narrowly escaping certain death still filled Symethis with overwhelming, almost tearful relief.
