Wizard: Stronger through Marriage

Chapter 1284: Chapter 597: Saintess Resonance_2

These flames are imbued with a pure power that chills the soul; they are more than crystals shining under the blazing sun, resembling an inexhaustible sun streaming down from the sky to cleanse the filth and darkness.

These fierce sacred flames, mixed with sharp buzzing, slice through the sky amidst the wind and snow, like thousands of blades piercing into the decaying abyss, shredding the darkness into fragments.

The Demonized Knights seem to be swept away by an irresistible torrent, their faces twisted in pain, each scream akin to the last echo of a snapping violin string, reverberating through the cold wind with breathtaking intensity.

The evil life force forged by the abyssal ethereal energy inside them is powerless before this pure sacred flame.

Like snowflakes meeting solar flares and melting, those once strong and aggressive turned fragile and desperate, burned to ashes, leaving only drifting smoke and broken consciousness shadows.

The group of low-level demons collapsed instantly, their crimson scales reflecting the scorching white tongues of flame, like piled snow encountering the spring warmth, melting upon touch.

Everyone present feels the internal decay and erosion attacking the foundation, a destructive righteous judgment unleashed by the Dawn Sacred Flame Array – both a baptism and a finale!

Yet, at the same time, many knights within the array base are enduring extreme pain.

Their life is being stripped away at an astonishing speed, be it the physical body, the soul, or the mental essence.

This burning is not merely physical combustion but a soul-level tempering and purification.

Amidst despair and belief interweaving, they bite down hard, some with faces full of tears, some with corners of their lips turned upward in a tragic smile, while others struggle at the edge of consciousness, refusing to give up resistance until the very last moment!

Hill bites his lip, feeling the trembling transmitted from his grip on the longsword, yet stands firm.

”Brothers... I see you... You are the brightest light in this eternal night!”

The colossal battlefield resounds with deafening roars, neither thunder nor explosion, but an unyielding cry from the depths of souls, a tumultuous wave of faith resonating in unity.

A vast and symbolic tide sweeps all directions,

”My blade eternally cold!”

”Soul forging dawn!”

”Silver Moon prevails, unconquered by death!”

The voices rise and fall, echoing from every corner, shaking the heavens and earth like a mountain torrent!

Alia strides toward the front line, focusing on the distant dissipating shadows, slicing through the residual shade with her sword edge.

”Let this ice-blue blade be the contract of life and death between you and me, no matter the time or place, I will fight alongside you.”

Annie silently prays, her hands extending the healing technique, using her faint yet stable warmth to shield those on the brink of destruction, ”As long as there’s a breath, there’s hope.”

Liya firmly grips the magic staff, using deep blue spells to harness elemental power, layering spiritual protection for those closest to burning out, bringing temporary yet precious tranquility: ”This isn’t the end, but a rebirth.”

David witnesses this scene, choking up yet raising his sword higher, forging with all his will, ”This is the price we pay, the only path toward the future!

Black marks must perish, we shall rise from the ruins!”

With time passing, about half of the knights fell, their bodies gradually becoming transparent, as if slowly consumed by time;

most of them face it with calmness and even satisfaction, for this is sacrifice, and also redemption.

Integrating themselves into the intersecting rune network of the great array, forging a solid barrier for more survivors;

Rising souls to aid the final collapse of shattered darkness!

Meanwhile, the power heritage from the land mobilized by Alia Frost Heart continuously injects into the system, this ancient and pure force penetrates the Void Star Core, colliding with the chaotic core’s foreign elements, producing mysterious reactions, filling the entire Dawn Sacred Flame Array with a sense of transcendent rationality mystery, forming an invincible barrier around the Far North wasteland in response.

This is not just a line of defense, but a timeless bulwark woven from the memories of ancestral bloodlines, engraving former glory into every inch of land, ensuring hope never extinguishes!

From afar, the soft golden glow of the rising morning light crosses the forested peaks, appearing more solemn reflected by the newly unfurled array.

Although all life is weary and hovering on the brink of despair, the heart willing to sacrifice for justice remains brilliant, more precious and radiant than any gem!

”Dawn has begun...” Hill whispers, gazing at the expanding and sweeping pure white flames, ”Even if it takes everything, let the sun rise high in the sky once more!”

The cloud layers in the sky begin to dissipate slowly, replaced by a new day’s pale aurora, like hope’s symbol after rebirth, covering the shattered earth with a layer of warm soft brightness...

David, Hill, and other surviving Knight Order members seize this fleeting gap, fully equipped, their eyes with iron-blooded determination never fading, immediately organizing into formation, like a sharp blade piercing toward the Royal Court corrupted by the abyss.

The strange atmosphere interweaves icy condensation and dense black fog flowing among the tumbled remains on the royal courtyard perimeter, those eerie runes gradually dimming by the sacred flame’s aftermath, no longer emitting the previous suffocating miasma.

The wind carries the sound of ancient stone walls crumbling and ice crystals collapsing, echoing like a desolate sigh in the empty halls.

David leads, his form towering like an iron tower, each step striking the decayed framework of the dark palace.

He gazes keenly, wielding a giant sword that sparkles with blue-white sacred flames, slicing through the silence amidst the wind and snow mixed fracture sounds.

He turns his head and whispers to Hill: ”This is everything the queen once commanded... now remains only silence and curse.”

Hill grips the sword hilt tightly, his expression solemn.

He stares ahead, twisted peculiar crystal clusters stretch along the walls, breathing like living creatures, every corner permeating the abyss space’s unique chilling and suffocating atmosphere.

These crystal clusters are like decaying tumors, turning the formerly dazzling palace into a grotesque, death-filled place.

They advance step by step, silently, but the tension in the air is so thick it almost drips like water.

Everyone can feel the faint low-frequency vibrations transmitted from the ground beneath their feet, the abyss power’s residual wave echoing an unsettling rhythm.

Finally, they reach a huge altar at the deepest part of the Royal Court—here lies the palace’s core location, where countless ancient legends point.

But now, the altar is no longer pure, surrounded and eroded by heavy ice and dark vein-like black crystal.

The crystal surface emits a faint blue glow, yet mixed with ash black, reminiscent of ominous ruins buried in river glacial layers.

At the altar’s center, Yi Lin lies quietly—half her body almost engulfed by vein-like black crystals crawling, moving like living entities.

These crystal clusters resemble tangled, entwining blood vessels, curling her half body into a cage, seemingly becoming her life’s painful shackles.

Only her extremely paradoxical yet heartbreakingly expressive eyes are exposed:

Her left eye completely succumbed to endless darkness, devoid of stars or life, leaving only a cold light stained within the abyss space;

Her right eye burned fiercely, but with a tenacious and unyielding ice-blue flame, representing her last remaining self, the small beacon of struggling will and soul.

The air solidifies from the suppressed melancholy erupting from her gaze, every breath seeming to tear one’s lungs, granting those approaching the feeling of boundless agony and the defiant cries at despair’s edge.

Yi Lin’s lips tremble slightly, sometimes seemingly recovering the former queen’s majesty, issuing fragmented orders with a hoarse yet resolute voice: ”Guard... Silver Moon... must not fall...” The voice carries an inescapable majesty, yet is also woven with escalating pain-filled groans.