Chapter 127: Divine Art: Cathedral Of Absolution

Amid the raging inferno, Gilbert’s wings trembled slightly as he held the line, golden flames straining against the endless surge of emerald hellfire. His grip on the sword tightened, his jaw set, but a faint murmur slipped from his lips despite himself.

“I did not think… he would be this strong…”

The words were low, almost lost within the roar of clashing flames. But Duke Haborym heard them.

All three of his heads shifted at once, six burning eyes locking onto Gilbert through the storm of fire. A slow, deliberate smile crept across his faces, one that carried both amusement and contempt.

“Did you truly believe,” his voices overlapped, echoing with oppressive weight, “that an archangel can defeat a demon noble?”

Gilbert’s expression hardened instantly. His wings flared, golden light intensifying around him as he pushed back against the inferno.

“Michael did,” he shot back, his voice firm despite the pressure bearing down on him.

For a brief moment, the battlefield seemed to pause. Then Duke Haborym scoffed. The sound was heavy with ridicule.

“Michael?” he repeated, as though the name itself was laughable. “Do not insult me with such shallow comparisons.”

The emerald flames surged violently as his presence expanded, his green heart pulsing brighter with each beat.

“Lucifer was not defeated by an archangel,” Duke Haborym continued, his tone turning colder, sharper. “He was brought down because the Supreme Deity intervened. Power was channeled through Michael, elevating him beyond his station.”

His six eyes narrowed.

“If not for that divine interference, the Prince of Pride would have never fallen to a mere archangel.”

The weight of his words pressed down like a hammer, leaving even Corbin who was hidden behind the archangel stunned. This was not a piece of information he intended to stumble on here.

Duke Haborym’s gaze sharpened further, piercing straight through Gilbert.

“So tell me… do you possess that same backing?”

Gilbert’s jaw tightened upon hearing those words. For the first time since the battle began, he said nothing. That silence was answer enough.

Duke Haborym’s smile widened, twisting into something openly mocking.

“So you leapt at the chance to challenge a noble of hell, without thought, without preparation… all to prove something.” he continued, his voices dripping with amusement,

His laughter rumbled through the flames.

“To prove that you are not inferior to Michael.”

“Shut up!” Gilbert roared, his voice exploding with fury as his flames surged violently in response.

But Duke Haborym only laughed harder.

The sound was deep, unrestrained, echoing across the burning battlefield as his hellfire intensified, pressing forward with renewed force.

“Look at you,” he sneered. “Even the heavens harbor desire. Even you act upon it. Yet you dare to label demons as evil for doing the very same.”

His six arms spread wider, commanding the storm of flames as though it were an extension of his will.

“Hypocrite.”

The word struck harder than any blow. At that moment, Corbin’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade.

“Gilbert will achieve his dream,” he shouted, his tone sharp and unwavering despite the storm around them. “He will slay a demon noble… and I will make sure of it!”

As the words left his lips, the air around him shifted.

A strange stillness spread outward, subtle at first, but undeniable.

“Divine Art…”

His voice dropped, carrying a weight that resonated far beyond the battlefield itself.

“Cathedral of Absolution!”

BOOOOOOM!!!

The sky trembled.

A blinding surge of golden light erupted from Corbin’s body, expanding outward in all directions. The flames, the smoke, even the raging hellfire were forced back as something vast began to take shape.

Walls, not made of stone but of pure divine energy, began springing up.

They rose rapidly, forming towering pillars that stretched toward the heavens, each one carved with intricate runes that glowed with radiant intensity. Arches followed, connecting the pillars in sweeping curves of light, forming the skeleton of something grand, something sacred.

A cathedral!.

Its structure unfolded in seconds, enclosing the battlefield within its radiant domain. Countless arrays spread across its surfaces, spinning slowly, layers upon layers of divine inscriptions activating in perfect harmony. The air itself grew heavy with sanctity, vibrating with a power that did not belong to the mortal realm.

At the center, directly above them, a massive circular sigil formed.

It was an eye. The moment it opened, everything changed.

Duke Haborym’s flames flickered. For the first time since his transformation, the emerald inferno faltered.

The endless tide of hellfire that had once surged like an unstoppable ocean began to weaken. Its intensity dropped, its volume shrinking as though something unseen was draining it from within.

The green flames lost their dominance. They wavered and dwindled. Duke Haborym’s six eyes narrowed sharply as he felt it.

“…What is this?” one of his voices muttered, the first hint of irritation slipping through.

Corbin exhaled slowly, his chest rising and falling as the strain of the technique settled into his body. His cassock fluttered lightly as golden light continued to pour from him, sustaining the massive structure.

“Under the gaze of this cathedral, all that is deemed evil will have its strength stripped away.” he said, his voice steady despite the exhaustion creeping in.

The glowing eye above pulsed once and the effect deepened.

The hellfire shrank further.

“It required time,” Corbin continued, his lips curling slightly. “That’s why I needed you both to keep him busy.”

“Now!”

Damian moved.

His eyes flared with savage excitement as the pressure against him lifted. The suffocating force of the hellfire was gone, replaced by something manageable, something he could finally dominate.

“Break!”

White flames exploded outward once more, surging forward with renewed ferocity as the Ninefold Samsara Firefox roared to life. Without the overwhelming volume of Haborym’s flames to suppress it, the white fire spread rapidly, devouring what remained of the weakened inferno.

Beside him, Gilbert did not hesitate.

Golden flames erupted violently from his blade and wings, surging forward in a brilliant wave that cut through the diminished sea of emerald fire with overwhelming force.

The battlefield shifted.

What had once been an unstoppable tide was now being driven back.

The weakened hellfire shattered under their combined assault, torn apart by divine and primordial flames as the balance of power tilted at last.

For the first time since his transformation began Duke Haborym’s overwhelming advantage was gone.

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