Chapter 452: My Judgement

The forest was on fire.

Damien could smell it before he saw it — the thick, bitter tang of burnt earth and crushed mana herbs.

Aquila’s wings sliced through the rising smoke as they sped toward the Verdant Verge, following the monstrous pulse of energy that was flaring through the night sky like a beacon of madness.

The pillar of dark essence towered above the horizon, twisting like a storm, swallowing the moonlight. Every instinct in him screamed run away, but Damien leaned forward instead, whispering to the griffin.

“Faster.”

Aquila screeched, obeying. Wind tore at Damien’s coat, and the forest below blurred into streaks of shadow and fire. The pressure grew heavier with each passing second — essence so thick it felt like gravity itself had changed.

Then he spotted general Ivaan.

The General stood at the heart of a ruined clearing, surrounded by smoldering corpses of mana beasts. The ground was painted red, dozens of cores glowing faintly around him as they fed energy into the runes scrawled in blood across the soil.

And at the center of it all was the Gate.

It pulsed now, veins of crimson light spreading across its ancient stone surface, each pulse syncing with the rhythm of Ivaan’s chanting.

“Ivaan!” Damien’s voice cut through the wind as he leapt from Aquila’s back, landing in a swirl of dust and mana. “Stop this!”

The General didn’t flinch. His voice, cold and fervent, carried over the roar of energy.

“You finally came.”

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Finishing what Delwig’s founders began.”

Damien’s fists clenched. The dark essence bleeding from Ivaan’s body was unmistakable now — the same he’d felt faintly the day before. It pulsed with demonic resonance, though controlled, disciplined.

“You killed Veyne,” Damien said, voice low. It wasn’t a question. “You’ve decimated Delwig!”

Ivaan finally turned to face him, expression calm, almost regretful. “He was loyal. But loyalty without understanding is dangerous. He saw what I was doing here. I couldn’t let him warn anyone.”

“As for the others, the city, they were fuel for breaking the seal.”

“You murdered your own man.”

“I sacrificed him,” Ivaan corrected, “for the survival of humanity. That gate — it’s not a prison. It’s a source. A vein of power untouched by time. Delwig will wither without it. Our enemies will crush us.”

Damien took a step forward, aura darkening. “You have no idea what’s inside that thing.”

“Oh, I do.” Ivaan smiled faintly. “I saw its echo when I touched the first seal. Something ancient. Something divine. If I can harness even a fragment—”

Damien didn’t let him finish.

He launched forward, shadows bursting from his feet as Fenrir materialized beside him in a ripple of dark essence. The great wolf’s eyes flared red, teeth bared as it lunged for Ivaan.

The general’s barrier snapped up instantly — a dome of blood-red runes. Fenrir’s claws slammed into it, sending cracks spidering across the ground. Ivaan’s expression hardened.

“So it’s treason, then.”

“No,” Damien growled. “This is judgment. My Judgement.”

Their powers collided.

The forest erupted in chaos as essence exploded between them. Damien’s black flames and Ivaan’s scarlet light twisting into a storm of violent colors. Aquila dove from above, wings glowing with gale energy, while Ivaan’s counterstrike sent waves of kinetic force slicing through the trees.

The shockwave flattened a dozen trunks. Mana beasts fled screaming.

Damien skidded back, cloak burning at the edges, then snapped his fingers. “Luton — now!”

The slime burst forth from the shadows, expanding rapidly, intercepting a volley of crimson spears. Each impact sent ripples across its surface before it spat the absorbed energy back like artillery fire.

Ivaan countered with a sweep of his arm, the runes around him lighting up brighter. “You don’t understand, Damien! That gate can save us! You of all people should know what powerlessness feels like.”

Damien’s expression twisted — a flash of old pain, old humiliation. “Don’t talk like you know me.”

“Oh, but I do,” Ivaan said, his voice almost gentle beneath the chaos. “I saw your file. Lord Terrace’s discarded son — the failed heir who clawed his way out of the gutter. Tell me you never wished for power like this.”

The words hit deeper than Damien expected. He hesitated. He’d never told anyone his background history and somehow, this general had managed to find out about him.

The general saw this and instantly capitalized on it.

Dozens of blood runes surged from the earth, forming chains of essence that lashed around Damien’s limbs, dragging him toward the glowing seal.

“Let me show you what true strength looks like.”

Damien snarled, eyes flashing black. “Wrong day to lecture me.”

A massive surge of essence exploded from his body. The chains shattered, and the backlash threw Ivaan several meters back. Damien’s shadow flared, expanding outward until Fenrir, Luton, and Aquila stood beside him again — all three of his summons unified by the same killing intent.

“You’re done here, General.”

He moved.

The air cracked as Damien appeared before Ivaan, fist driving forward. The impact cratered the ground, sending a blast of dust skyward. Ivaan’s shield shattered, but he counter-kicked Damien in the chest, sending him sliding back through the dirt.

Blood trickled from both of them now.

The runes on the Gate pulsed brighter, feeding on the conflict, almost hungry. Each pulse echoed in Damien’s skull.

It’s reacting to us, he realized grimly.

Ivaan noticed it too — his smile turned wild. “Do you see? Even sealed, it calls for a wielder!”

He drove his hand into the nearest rune circle, blood splattering. The cores embedded in the ground cracked one by one, pouring raw mana into the seal. The Gate trembled.

Damien’s instincts screamed. He lunged, but Ivaan raised his other hand.

“Don’t interfere, boy!”

A beam of red light shot from Ivaan’s palm, tearing across the clearing. Damien dodged — barely — the blast ripping a canyon through the forest. Trees vaporized. The earth howled.

Damien gritted his teeth. “You’re going to tear the whole place apart!”

“Then let it burn!” Ivaan roared, pouring more of himself into the runes. His eyes were glowing now, the whites stained red. “What is a forest to eternity? What are we, if not tools for a greater design?”

His body trembled, blood spilling from his nose, but the Gate pulsed violently, its cracks widening.

Damien rushed again, using Skylar’s borrowed speed through a shadow movement. His sword materialized — black steel humming with essence — and he slashed across Ivaan’s runes, disrupting half the pattern.

The Gate screamed. The sound wasn’t physical but psychic, like pressure drilling into their skulls.

Ivaan coughed blood. “You fool! You’ll destabilize it!”

“That’s the point!” Damien shouted. “You want to open a door you can’t close. I’m here to make sure it never opens at all!”

He rammed his sword into the ground, channeling essence through the earth. Black fire spread outward, devouring the outer ring of runes.

The feedback was instant. A burst of uncontrolled energy threw both men apart. Aquila shielded Damien mid-air, feathers burning, while Ivaan slammed into the Gate itself.

Cracks splintered across its surface.

For a single, horrifying moment, Damien saw through it — a glimpse of shifting eyes, a vast form sleeping behind the barrier, its breath making the air vibrate.

Ivaan stared too, awe and terror mingling in his face. “It’s beautiful…”

Damien didn’t hesitate. He dashed forward, essence burning through his veins, and drove his fist into Ivaan’s gut, launching him backward. “You’re done!”

But Ivaan wasn’t finished.

Gasping, he raised his arm again, pouring everything he had into one final spell. “If I can’t open it… I’ll force it to remember me!”

The runes beneath him ignited — dozens, hundreds — connecting into a massive sigil circle that stretched across the clearing.

Damien’s eyes widened. “Oh, hell.”

The explosion was instantaneous.

A blinding flash of red and black swallowed the Verdant Verge. Trees disintegrated. The shockwave tore through the forest like a hurricane, flattening miles of terrain. Birds fell from the sky. The vibration reached Delwig’s outer walls, shaking the city foundations.

From the gate towers, guards screamed and ducked as the horizon itself seemed to erupt.

Back in the clearing, silence followed the detonation — eerie, absolute. Smoke and dust swirled in thick clouds.

Damien stirred first, his body buried under broken earth. He coughed, forcing himself up. His vision swam, half his cloak gone, blood running down his arm.

Where Ivaan had stood, there was only a crater — and in its center, a single fragment of the Gate still glowed faintly, the rest sealed under rubble.

Damien looked around. Fenrir limped out from the smoke, Aquila wounded but alive, Luton flattened but twitching faintly.

He exhaled shakily. “Still standing… good.”

Then he looked up at the sky, at the thinning smoke revealing the stars again.

The gate hadn’t fully opened. But it had responded.

He could still feel something watching from beneath the debris — faint, patient, waiting.

Damien clenched his fist, voice hoarse. “If it wants to come through… it’ll have to go through me first.”

Ivaan still wasn’t done. Another attack was gathering between both of his palms. “This will go through you first.”

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