The night deepened, and with it, the atmosphere within the outpost curdled. The garrison fires hissed as the wood turned to white ash, casting long, skeletal shadows that danced against the high stone walls. Aden remained motionless on his stone bench, his dark steel blade across his lap. He looked like a statue carved from the very night itself, save for the rhythmic, faint sapphire pulse in his eyes that matched the carmine glow of the boy at his feet.

Eren was no longer just breathing; he was vibrating. Within the boy’s solar plexus, the raw, jagged shards of Resonance were being ground down, polished by the repetitive cycle of the State of Equilibrium. The “Expansion Ache” that had threatened to tear his meridians apart was being replaced by a dense, liquid heat. He was becoming an anchor, just as Aden had commanded.

A sudden, sharp change in the wind made Aden’s hand tighten on his hilt.

The smell of ozone and burnt stone was gone, replaced by an overwhelming scent of frankincense and hot wax. From the northern battlements, a low, melodic chanting began to rise—a choir of voices that carried no warmth, only the sterile, crushing weight of absolute conviction.

“Master,” Lorelei’s voice was a frantic shiver in the air. “The aether is being pressurized. They aren’t coming by the road.”

Aden stood up. The sapphire mist around his boots began to boil. “Eren. Wake up. The ‘assessment’ is here.”

Eren’s eyes snapped open. The crimson within them was no longer a flicker; it was a solid, glowing furnace. He didn’t scramble to his feet; he rose in one fluid motion, his short-sword clearing its scabbard with a sound like a winter wind through dry grass. Armin and Reiner huddled behind him, their small hands gripping the hem of his tunic.

The sky above the courtyard didn’t darken; it brightened. A circular rift of golden light tore through the midnight clouds, revealing a platform of shimmering Sun-Glass descending from the heavens. Standing upon it was a figure draped in robes of white and gold, his face hidden behind a mask of polished silver that reflected the garrison torches like a distorted mirror.

“The High-Exarch,” the commanding officer whispered, falling to his knees and pressing his forehead against the cold stone.

The figure didn’t speak with a voice, but with a psychic boom that rattled the silver-ore in the wagons.

**”THE TAINT HAS PENETRATED THE WALLS. THE VOID WALKS IN THE SKIN OF A MAN. PURIFY THE COURTYARD. LEAVE ONLY ASH.”**

Six Paladins, their armor etched with glowing sun-runes, leapt from the descending platform. They didn’t fall; they glided on wings of solidified light, their spears leveled at the center of the courtyard.

The mercenaries scrambled, but they were pinned by the sheer weight of the Exarch’s presence. The “Sanctified Pressure” acted like physical gravity, forcing the men to their knees, their lungs burning as the air itself turned into holy incense.

Aden stepped forward, his sapphire aura erupting in a violent flare that punched a hole through the golden light. The pressure around the wagons vanished, replaced by a soul-chilling frost.

“Eren,” Aden said, his voice a calm blade in the center of the storm. “The Paladins are yours. I’ll take the mask.”

Eren didn’t hesitate. He lunged, his body a blur of carmine lightning. He met the first Paladin mid-air, his short-sword clashing against a sun-spear. The impact sent a shockwave of red and gold energy through the courtyard, shattering the windows of the barracks.

Eren didn’t fight like a student anymore. He fought like the storm Aden had promised. He used the Paladin’s own momentum, spinning behind the armored warrior and delivering a kick infused with Resonance that sent the man crashing into the well. Before the second could strike, Eren was already there, his blade a flickering needle of red light that found the gaps in the silver plate with surgical precision.

Aden, meanwhile, ignored the fray. He looked up at the High-Exarch.

“You’re a long way from the Cathedral, priest,” Aden said.

He didn’t use the stairs. He stepped onto the air itself, the Harmonic Realm creating invisible platforms of sapphire frost beneath his boots. With every step, the golden light of the rift flickered and dimmed, unable to occupy the space Aden claimed.

The High-Exarch raised a hand, and a bolt of pure, white-hot solar energy tore through the sky. Aden didn’t dodge. He raised his dark steel blade, the matte metal drinking the light as if it were water. He channeled the energy through his own core, his eyes turning a blinding, incandescent blue.

*Harmonic Law: Reversal.*

Aden swung his blade. The solar bolt, now dyed a bruised, sapphire violet, roared back at the Exarch. The silver mask of the priest cracked, a spiderweb of fractures appearing across its surface as the redirected strike slammed into his protective barrier.

The Exarch recoiled, the platform of Sun-Glass trembling. For the first time, the psychic voice carried a trace of something human: fear.

**”WHAT MANNER OF ABOMINATION ARE YOU?”**

“I’m the insurance policy,” Aden whispered, appearing directly in front of the Exarch’s face, his blade inches from the silver mask. “And your soul is past its expiration date.”

Below, in the courtyard, Eren stood amidst the downed Paladins. He was panting, his red aura pulsing with a steady, dangerous heat. He looked up at the sky, his eyes reflecting the sapphire and gold war above. He wasn’t afraid. He was waiting for the next command.

The night was no longer silent. It was a symphony of breaking light and shattering steel. The South-Point Outpost was no longer a refuge; it was an altar. And Aden was about to show the Church exactly what happens when you try to purify a monster.

The High-Exarch raised a staff of solid light, the air around it screaming as it ionized. “BLASPHEMY,” the voice boomed, but Aden was already moving. He didn’t strike with brute force; he struck at the frequencies. His blade hummed a low, dissonant chord that cancelled out the shimmering gold of the Exarch’s shield. With a surgical flick, the dark steel bit into the Sun-Glass platform, sending a spray of crystalline shards raining down onto the stone below.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep