NOVPUB
Chapter 424: 424
His warning was cut short. With no preamble, the figure of the possessed captain materialized directly in front of him. The captain’s mouth gaped open, filled with writhing black flames, aimed directly at Ikem. There was no time to react, no time to dodge. Instinctively, Ikem dropped the rune pillar he carried, thrusting it forward as a makeshift shield. The unnatural heat radiating from the black flames, the sheer wrongness of their nature, warned him of the immense danger they posed. The pillar, a conduit of divine power, was his only hope.
His giant body at the same time shrunk to avoid being touched by the flames.
A few moments back, Myrrha, Ash, Brook and Tula who stayed hidden suddenly went into a state of alert once they saw Ikem their grandfather stop.
Unlike Ikem, they could sense nothing as they had never faced anything similar before but it was enough seeing their grandfather stop.
Acting quickly, they made a sign for the small elite army following behind them to stop. Suddenly everyone heard the urgent voice of Ikem who couldn’t finish his word before being attacked out of nowhere.
Here the word "Training for the upside" Even if it wasn’t finished, everyone already got an idea of what they were about to face. Something Ikem made sure they understand the severity of facing with the most important part not to let the enemy touch and grab you to the other world.
Sadly some of them were too late to react as feathered Zealots seem to materialize from thin air, their thin feathered hand being the last thing seen covering their face before being dragged away into the other world.
Still the apelings proved why they were Elite as training kicked in with a mana construct replica of each guard appearing on the surface of their body which the Zealots made contact with in an attempt to pull them into the other world.
Only to grab to be surprised when their target was not with them back at the upside down world.
But even the elite apeling forces, skilled as they were, were now facing overwhelming odds. Hundreds of thousands of feathered Zealots seemed to materialize from thin air, their numbers growing with each passing moment. The initial surprise attack had claimed some, but the bulk of the apeling force was ready now, their mana constructs flickering and shimmering as they braced for the onslaught.
Myrrha, Ash, Brook, and Tula exchanged grim glances. The sheer number of feathered Zealots surrounding them was daunting, but their gazes kept drifting back to Ikem, who remained halted, engaged with a threat of his own. The decision weighed heavily on them. Who to assist? Their grandfather, or the elite guard?
The answer, though difficult, was clear. Their mission objective was paramount. Ikem had to continue his progress. The rune pillars had to be activated simultaneously. If they left Ikem to deal with the Zealots alone, the uncertainty of the situation could jeopardize everything. He might be delayed, or worse, fail entirely to reach his destination in time.
It was an ironclad rule: once the crusade began, it could not be stopped, regardless of the obstacles. They had to trust in the elite guards’ training. Superficial observation suggested the Zealots, while stronger than ordinary foes, were not exceptionally powerful individually. Their true strength lay in their numbers and their ability to slip into the Upside Down, only to reappear unexpectedly.
That was the real danger. As their training had emphasized, their senses couldn’t predict where the Zealots would rematerialize. The only reliable tactic was swift and decisive action: kill them immediately, before they had a chance to vanish. Delay was a death sentence.
The elite guard were made up of the Cursed apelings clans and numbered in the thousand. The four cursed apeling clans, Ember, Zephyr, Terra, and Ripple, moved as a single, cohesive unit, their individual strengths complementing each other.
The forest, cloaked in the inky blackness of night, Moonlight, filtered through the dense canopy, cast long, dancing shadows that played tricks on the eye, making it difficult to distinguish friend from foe.
The forest, cloaked in the inky blackness of night, was illuminated by moonlight filtering through the dense canopy. Shadows danced across the ground, playing tricks on the eye and making it difficult to distinguish friend from foe.
The battle began with a powerful gust of wind as the Zephyr Clan took to the trees, their movement stirring the air. At the same time, the Ember Clan used the wind to propel themselves forward, stomping the ground with a resounding force as they got into position.
A wave of searing flames erupted, devouring the forest and forcing the Zealots back. Some managed to escape into the upside-down world, while others were caught in the inferno, their bodies reduced to ash in an instant.
The Ripple Clan quickly intervened, summoning a downpour to extinguish the spreading fire. Though the flames were doused, the Ember Clan’s strategy had been effective—the Zealots had vanished, unable to regroup.
This was the intended outcome. The surprise ambush had denied them time to form a proper defense and get into their formations. Victory hinged on the Zephyr Clan, whose unmatched speed allowed them to hunt down the Zealots before they could disappear again. Meanwhile, the Ember Clan’s role was to keep the enemy at bay with relentless bursts of flame. The Terra Clan served as protectors, prepared to intercept should the Zealots unexpectedly materialize within their formation.
The Ripple Clan’s task was to halt or freeze the Zealots in place, giving each clan the perfect opportunity to strike.
The rain, summoned by the Ripple clan, hissed and sizzled as it met the lingering embers of the Ember clan’s attack. A thick fog began to roll in, further obscuring the already treacherous battlefield. The Zephyr clan, perched high in the trees, became near-invisible silhouettes against the dark foliage. Their movements were a whisper of rustling leaves, a flash of movement too quick for the eye to follow. They were hunting shadows, their targets the elusive Zealots.
A guttural cry echoed through the forest. A Zealot, caught off guard by a Zephyr assassin, materialized partially into the physical world, only to be met with a swift strike. The Zealot dissolved back into the upside-down world, but not before a dark, viscous ichor dripped onto the forest floor, a testament to the Zephyr’s deadly accuracy. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
Suddenly, the ground trembled. A massive root, thick as a man’s torso, erupted from the earth, lashing out like a living whip. A Terra clan member, his skin the color of granite, stood at its base, his eyes glowing with an earthy power. He had anticipated a Zealot flanking maneuver. The root slammed into the spot where the Zealot was attempting to materialize, disrupting the process and sending the creature reeling back into its shadowy realm.
The Ember clan, reformed and ready, unleashed another controlled burst of flame, this time directed towards the edges of the forest. Their objective was not to incinerate, but to create a wall of fire, forcing the Zealots to remain within the smaller, more manageable area. The flames crackled, casting an eerie glow on the scene, illuminating the swirling fog and the tense faces of the allied clans.
The Zealots, seeing as they couldn’t get close and were being picked off slowly took a Kamikaze route as a wave of them materialized with their wings spread apart with small traces of black flame burning on it.
The dove down covered in flames only to be met with a chilling gust of wind as frost began climbing up their body. The other clans, seeing this, momentarily left their position as each manifested a weapon on their hand, tearing apart the frozen Zealots in pieces.
With quickness, hundreds of Zealots were dealt. But at the same time a gap appeared in the formation which the Zealots took advantage of. The Zealots, sensing their opportunity, pressed their attack. They materialized in short bursts, attacking and retreating before the flames could fully engulf them. The heat, while still a deterrent, was no longer the impenetrable barrier it had been. Small black flames began to spring up within the allied clans’ formation, threatening to engulf them in a chaotic inferno.
The Ripple clan, sensing the shift in momentum, attempted to reinforce the Ember clan’s defense with a wave of freezing mist. But the Zealots were adapting. They began to materialize within the mist itself, using its obscuring nature to their advantage. Icy tendrils snapped and broke as the Zealots, now partially anchored in the physical world, slashed and tore at the frozen constructs.
A chilling realization spread through the allied clans. They were being overwhelmed. Their initial strategy, while effective against smaller numbers, was proving insufficient against the larger tide of the Zealot army.
The cries of fallen allies echoed through the trees. A Zephyr, too slow to retreat, was dragged halfway into the upside-down world, his screams abruptly cut short. A Terra clan member, his focus broken by a surprise attack, was consumed by a swirling mass of shadowy tendrils.
