Chapter 511: Journey Across Continents (9)

Third Person’s POV

Strips of multicolored light surrounded her slender figure as she stepped forward into the rift.

The lights shimmered and intertwined like flowing ribbons of dreamlike brilliance.

They were breathtaking to behold, and they reflected countless hues that shifted continuously as multiple dimensions overlapped and separated.

To an uninformed observer, the passage would appear serene and beautiful, but Nyx knew better that those multicolored spatial rays carried enough cutting force to slice a being below rank five into ribbons with the slightest contact.

Their edges were not physical blades, yet their interaction with unstable bodies would result in instant dismemberment.

The same colorless light that had formed in her hands now spread across her entire figure, coating her like a thin, invisible armor.

It interacted smoothly with the surrounding spatial currents, allowing her to traverse effortlessly without friction or resistance.

Within moments, she had directly emerged silently into the Sanctum Realm, though the sight before her was stark.

The once beautiful and lush forest had been reduced to a blackened, reddish wasteland.

Charred trees stood like skeletal remnants of what had once been vibrant life, and the earth itself bore deep scars from the overwhelming clash of powers that had unfolded.

Ash drifted faintly in the air, and the atmosphere was heavy with the lingering energy of death, darkness, and blood.

Yet, strangely, the blue lake at the center of the realm remained untouched.

Its waters were calm and clear, reflecting the sky above as though the devastation surrounding it had never occurred.

Nyx’s gaze passed over it briefly, but they did not linger, as she already knew the reason behind its preservation.

Her attention shifted elsewhere, her golden eyes sharpening once more as the aftermath of battle settled into an uneasy silence.

She flew directly toward the dark castle, its towering silhouette rising against the scarred sky of the Sanctum Realm.

Strangely, despite the overwhelming commotion and devastation that had swept across this domain, the castle still stood firm and intact, its ancient black walls bearing no visible cracks or collapse, barring the damage that had been caused due to the battle between Solomon, the previous enforcement Elder, and Lady Raven in red, who was also Altheria’s disciple.

The structure exuded a quiet resilience.

When she approached its outer perimeter, she did not bother concealing herself or slipping into stealth, as there was no longer any purpose in hiding herself.

She had already revealed her full draconic form and displayed her overwhelming might openly within this sensitive territory.

And whatever secrets were meant to remain hidden had already been torn apart by the scale of the battle.

She descended calmly toward the central tower of the castle, where she could clearly sense the familiar aura of her friend, Altheria, the little duchess.

As she passed through the outer halls, her golden eyes swept across the interior.

Countless unconscious bodies lay strewn across the marble floors and corridors.

Among them were renowned professors, talented students, deacons, numerous attendants, and guards alike.

Some had collapsed against pillars, others lay across staircases or slumped beside shattered furnishings.

Yet what struck her most was not their condition, but the absence of fatal damage among them.

Every single one of them was alive.

Their chests rose and fell faintly, their breathing steady, and that fact alone was absurd to her as the clash between her, Altheria, and Dajjal had been catastrophic by any standard below their realm.

The mere shockwaves of their exchanged attacks should have been enough to pulverize beings of lesser realms than their own into ash and dust.

Even stray fluctuations of mana should have torn through flesh and bone without resistance.

And yet, here they lay, fully unharmed.

Her gaze shifted briefly toward the undamaged core structure of the Sanctum castle, and for the first time since the battle began, a faint trace of genuine appreciation appeared in her eyes.

This ancient place of learning carried secrets far deeper than it allowed the world to see.

Eon old protections and layered mysteries were embedded within its foundations, quietly shielding its inhabitants even against calamities that should have erased them entirely.

She was mildly impressed, but as she reached the entrance to Altheria’s tower, she halted abruptly in the air as a slightly familiar yet unmistakably hostile aura emanated from within.

It was very controlled but quite intense at the same time, showing that the person behind it was not one to be easily messed with.

It coexisted alongside the aura of Altheria, the little duchess, and the faint but distinct presence of Isha.

Beneath that, she could also sense the quiet signature of her disciple, Ethan.

Her circular pupils contracted slowly into vertical slits once more, and a cold expression settled upon her face.

Without urgency and without any visible aggression, she moved toward a nearby window and entered through it calmly, her posture relaxed yet undeniably authoritative.

A few seconds earlier, inside the headmistress’s office of the Abyssal Sanctum, the atmosphere had already grown tense.

Altheria sat composed behind her large crimson desk, her posture straight and dignified as always, while the expression on her little face remained serene and almost indifferent, though her eyes were alert.

Opposite her sat a medium-statured, auburn haired middle-aged man.

Twin auburn shaded dragon horns curved from his head, their surfaces gleaming faintly under the dim light, while a short auburn goatee streaked with vibrant red strands adorned his chin, giving him a stern and battle hardened appearance.

Though his thunderous reddish orange eyes carried restrained fury.

In the center of the room floated a shimmering light shadow.

It was the partial manifestation of Isha.

Her light shadow not only hid her appearance and true form, but it also shielded Ethan completely, obscuring his face, aura signature, and even the subtle fluctuations of his existence from all and any prying senses.

Though the middle aged dragon could still clearly feel another being hidden behind that luminous veil.

He was not blind, and he knew that the white shadow concealed someone important.

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