Chapter 790: Chapter 143 Confrontation and Melee_2

And Balachiel appeared rather disheveled, his massive wings covered in white feathers were now torn and burnt, bearing scars all over. His violet robe embroidered with stars was now ripped and ragged, bearing traces of being torn.

But the faint light of heaven shrouded him, swiftly mending all his wounds and flaws; he merely needed a few minutes to return to normal.

The most pitiable sight, however, was the Ancient Gold Dragon Titus. His scales, which once shimmered with light, were now dull and lusterless, marred everywhere by burnt marks and stained with mottled blood. His wings were torn like tattered cloth, and his torso was covered with wounds.

There was a shocking gash on his flank, exposing raw, crimson flesh, which was still spurting fresh blood — it was inflicted by the claws of the Red Dragon.

This originally majestic and dignified Gold Dragon now looked more like a blood-soaked “Black Dragon,” yet even so, it was still roaring in anger, bravely lunging towards the Red Dragon.

At this moment, the aerial battlefield had turned exceptionally chaotic with various powerful spells crisscrossing, the dazzling aurora of spells dazzling to the eyes.

The surrounding Magic Web was almost stirred into a mess by this terrible battle, and the space within this Material Plane was becoming extremely fragile, on the verge of collapse.

To speak nothing of High-level Magic, even those Eighth Tier and Ninth Tier top spells were being flung out desperately, as if money was no object, merely to cause a bit of obstruction to the opponent, and they often failed to take effect.

And those massive figures shuttled within, fighting ceaselessly, appearing and disappearing, oftentimes only revealing a glimpse of their forms.

…

On the ground, Grandmaster Zalan slowly opened his eyes under the anxious calls of his subordinates and the continuous healing spells, but the first thing he saw was the chaotic sky.

He saw the high sky obscured by surging clouds, emitting terrifying energy fluctuations, where those powerful beings fought amidst it, with every clash amounting to a Scourge.

Zalan’s lips turned pale, and he muttered to himself, “Gods… has this battle not stopped yet? Do they wish to destroy this space?”

Suddenly, as if remembering something, his expression froze, and his tone became urgent, “Right, there’s also that Ten-Ring Magic!”

He stood up, shaking the shoulder of his subordinate, asking frantically, “What about that sun-like Miracle in the sky? Where did it go? Don’t tell me, don’t tell me I was hallucinating just now?

Impossible, I saw it with my own eyes, how could…”

The Mage fell silent for a moment, his face pale as he shook his head, “My lord, you’re not mistaken. It’s just… that sun, or rather Duke Walter, has fallen.”

Having said that, he pointed off into the distance, and Zalan followed the direction of the pointing hand, suddenly stupefied.

He saw a body of an Angel Divine Descendant with an opened chest lying quietly there, bleeding golden-red blood.

His body was still emitting a blazing light, scorching a large black pit into the ground, with no one daring to approach — it was none other than the body of Duke Walter, whom Zalan knew well.

After standing stunned for a long while, Zalan finally let out a few words from deep in his throat, “This, this can’t be…”

“Someone come quick!”

“Grandmaster Zalan has fainted again!”

“Where’s the Priest, hurry up, Grandmaster Zalan is foaming at the mouth! No, wait, he’s bleeding from his nostrils too! By Mistra!”

The crowd around plunged into chaos again, while more people were looking up towards the battlefield in the sky, praying silently to themselves.

In the face of such a calamity-like power, they seemed to have no ability to choose their own fate, and could only wait for what was to be arranged.

…

“Boom!”

Cassius controlled the frenzied fire element to create a hundred-meter-long flame claw, which actually grasped the Starlight Longsword with brute force.

And the rampaging tongues of fire rapidly spread along the blade, furiously burning the arm constructed of Heavenly Light.

The Red Dragon exhaled a breath of sulfur-laden white smoke, roaring defiantly: “Balachiel, the noble Master of Lucia– is this all the strength you possess?”

Balachiel tightened his grip on the longsword, positioning it before him, and said coldly: “Foolish evil dragon! If we were in the Silver Heaven, your dragon head would already be a decoration in Marhevik Castle!”

“Roar–”

Seizing the opportunity, the Gold Dragon roared and flew in from behind, disregardless of his scar-laden body, pouncing towards the Red Dragon with claws bared and teeth flashing.

However, Cassius didn’t even glance back, casually sweeping with his tail, sending the Gold Dragon, who was vastly outmatched in size, flying away with a new wound across its chest, wailing in pain.

“Ridiculous sneak attack!”

Cassius flapped his Dragon Wings, stirring up a scorching gale, instantly increased the distance, and faced Balachiel and the Gold Dragon from thousands of meters away.

He looked at the quite tragic form of the Gold Dragon and nodded satisfactorily in his heart.

Good, this is exactly what he wanted–to shape the image of “the vanguard against the Red Dragon” in this battle, thereby increasing the influence of Titus among the forces opposing him.

The already gloriously majestic image of the “Dragon of Dawn,” the “Dawn Wings,” would further benefit from the tale of “risking life and limb to fight the Red Dragon in revenge for a dear friend,” wouldn’t it?

Cassius didn’t believe that with these illustrious acts, he couldn’t infiltrate those forces of justice, win their trust, and become part of their high ranks.

“But soon… today’s play can come to an end.” Cassius sneered, thinking to himself.

Turning back to Balachiel, in just a few minutes, under the bath of the sheen of Heaven, that impeccable body was restored to its original state, without a hint of weakness.

To Cassius, this was indeed a formidable opponent.

As the Master of Lucia from the Silver Heaven, and a member of the Seven Fierce Society of Heavenly Mountain, Balachiel’s strength originated from Heavenly Mountain, or more precisely, the Silver Heaven.

Even though the strength from the Outer Planes was suppressed on the Material Plane, Balachiel never mobilized more power than necessary, manifesting it as a Light Wheel behind him, ready to unleash when needed.

Moreover, as long as the power of Silver Heaven wasn’t exhausted, and the Silver Sea wasn’t dry, Balachiel’s strength was endlessly regenerating, virtually inexhaustible.

No wonder Balachiel was so proud, so confidently supporting Duke Walter, for to the creatures of the Material Plane, he was an invincible being.

While Cassius’ Ancestral Dragon constitution granted him robust healing abilities, to engage in a war of attrition against an entire Outer Plane was obviously irrational–such acts were best left to those native Red Dragons with brains filled with muscle and Magma.

Cassius knew he had to seize the opportunity to land a fatal blow, to avoid falling into a protracted battle; otherwise, he would certainly be the first to be exhausted to death.

Though it sounded feasible, inflicting a mortal wound on Balachiel would be extremely difficult.

That Heavenly Light truly nauseated Cassius to no end; the Spell Radiance it released would be smoothed over by the power of Order, and even the Chaos Flames struggled to deplete it. Any inflicted wounds would quickly heal.

–As the representative of Order and justice from the Outer Planes, Heavenly Mountain inherently counters all chaotic beings, especially abyssal demons.

“Perhaps… it’s time to end all this.” Lunia had shown too many Miracles, even for a chaotic evil Wizard sworn to pursue the path of good. By seeking favors from many Demigods and demonstrating his sincerity to the noble Aetherial Deity Tribe, the Wizard Marhevik was able to peacefully establish his castle on the Silver Sea Coast. Despite earnestly attempting a new leaf, his journey was long and fraught with many old habits and beliefs from his previous life. Yet he allowed travelers of any Camp to stay in Marhevik Castle. Occasionally, some of Marhevik’s “old friends” would visit, such as Sytris, once known as the Soul Capturer, and Japheth, originally the Soul Reaver, and (Text cuts off)