Chapter 188: Huge Test!

The moment Lilian’s whisper faded, the air in the throne chamber shifted.

Not a breeze nor a temperature drop, but instead a presence seemed to of awakened, as if something ancient and sleeping had exhaled for the first time in eons.

The trio stepped inside, and before they could react,

~BANG!~

The Throne Room door behind them slammed shut and locked itself.

“Guess we’re leaving through that door,” Elara muttered, pointing to another door across the room.

The trio looked around the Throne Room, which stretched wider than any hall they had seen thus far, easily large enough to host legions. The marble beneath their feet darkened to a deeper tone, streaked with gold and silver veins that flickered in rhythmic pulses.

The vaulted ceiling arched impossibly high, lost in layers of drifting violet mist. Suspended above were slow-turning rings of luminous crystals, rotating around each other like a broken orrery, humming with dormant power.

And then they saw them.

Lined along each side of the throne room, evenly spaced from one end to the other, were towering statues. Each stood around seven and a half feet tall, massive, broad-shouldered, sculpted with flawless precision from some blackstone mixed with silver sheen.

They resembled noble demons, adorned in armor once worn by Demon Lords of the old Imperial eras. Each carried a different weapon: halberds, glaives, twin swords, scythes, longspears, massive tower shields.

Every figure was posed in still vigilance, heads tilted slightly downward, as if standing at eternal attention to a long-dead emperor.

Elara’s breathing slowed. “Those weapons… those armor designs… these are early imperial demon constructs. They were made to be the perfect royal guard,”

Lilian’s voice trembled with excitement, “Their craftsmanship… it’s flawless. They’re almost too perfect.”

Albedo scanned one of the nearest statues. Even with Source Code, he sensed nothing, no mana, no heartbeat, no soul fragment.

But his instincts screamed that something was very wrong, so he kept himself aware as he walked further in alongside the others, his eye fixated on the central throne.

The throne was enormous, sculpted from a material that shifted slowly between white, silver, and deep void-black, like an eclipse constantly forming and unforming upon its surface. Floating sigils circled it lazily, ancient and unreadable.

But the throne was empty.

~RUMBLE!~

As they looked at the throne, a tremor occurred, soft and subtle, but then the marble beneath their feet vibrated.

Then,

~CRKKKK!~

One of the statues’ hands twitched.

Albedo’s eyes snapped toward it, Havoc & Ruin materializing in his hands immediately.

Lilian froze, “Oh no.”

Elara breathed out a single curse, “Please tell me that was just, ”

It wasn’t.

The tremor intensified.

Dust fell from the statues’ joints. Fine cracks raced along their surfaces, not breaking them, no, peeling off a thin outer layer, like a shell cracking, releasing whatever was inside.

“Oh, shit,” Lilian whispered.

The outer stone husks shattered all at once.

Blackstone and silver plates fell away, clattering across the room like broken armor. Beneath that crumbling layer emerged moving bodies, obsidian-black armor that contoured and shifted like living metal, glowing runic veins pulsing across their frames.

The Noble Demon statues, were not statues.

They were constructs, now awakening, and there were over two dozen of them. All their heads lifted in perfect synchronization, glowing white-silver eyes locking onto the trio with inhuman precision.

The air ignited with killing intent so focused and ancient it felt like being pinned beneath a mountain.

Albedo’s instincts roared, the power level of the statues fluctuated constantly as they looked at the trio, before stabilizing at Gold Rank, matching the trio.

But not just Gold Rank, their power was dense, consolidated and refined, sharpened to a degree surpassing even many Diamond Rnks

And that wasn’t the worst part.

“These… these things have combat memories,” Elara whispered, voice cracking. “They’re not puppets… they’re warriors.”

The constructs immediately moved, fast and precise.

The closest two blur-stepped forward, covering over fifteen meters in less than a second. Albedo only had time to twist sideways, both pistols flashing into Infernal Mode.

Crimson flames detonated point-blank as Havoc sent a wave of scorching fire across the room.

A normal Gold Rank would’ve been vaporized by the Crimson Apocalypse Flames instantaneously, but the construct turned its body subtly, just enough to divert the hit, and the flames washed harmlessly around its armor.

Its halberd swung toward Albedo’s throat with such flawless technique he barely ducked under it.

Lilian reacted next, blood spiraling out from her palm like a snapping serpent. It stabbed toward a construct’s visor.

The construct caught the blood-whip in one hand, yanking on it to pull Lilian forward and then slamming its massive knee into the Vampiress’ chest.

She flew backward, flipping twice, landing hard enough to crack the marble floor.

Elara swirled her staff and unleashed a torrent of wind-blades sharp enough to carve steel into shavings. Her mana thrummed harder.

The constructs raised their shields in unison.

Every blade of wind shattered against the shimmering silver-black barrier.

Elara’s eyes widened. “They… they auto-adapt?!”

One construct broke formation, spinning its glaive in a perfect arc, and hurled it like a meteor. Elara’s instincts screamed, she barely managed to sidestep, but the glaive curved midair and came at her a second time.

It had curved intentionally.

Like a predator adjusting its bite.

Albedo slid between her and the incoming weapon, Havoc switching instantly into Graviton Mode. Gravity imploded around his pistols, and a compressed gravity slug burst forth, colliding with the spinning glaive.

The clash distorted the air, shockwaves rattling the chandeliers high above. The glaive ricocheted, embedding itself into the far wall, slicing through five crystal pillars as if they were decorative paper.

Elara whispered shakily, “Thank you.”

“No time,” Albedo growled, and surged forward.

Two constructs leapt toward him from both sides. Havoc and Ruin blurred, Infernal Mode left, Mana-Drain Mode right. Twin detonations swallowed the chamber.

Mana flooded into Albedo’s veins, stolen straight from the right construct, refreshing him instantly, but the construct didn’t even slow down, simply turning its stance and readjusting weight distribution to compensate from the damage.

It quickly became clear to the trio these constructs were learning more and more with every clash, adapting and improving their combat execution.

Lilian was already back on her feet, blood blossoming around her like blooming scarlet petals. She flicked two fingers upward, and the blood transformed into a jagged spike that shot up beneath the nearest construct, trying to skewer it from below.

The construct leapt, body rotating into a spinning arc. It avoided the strike with precision that felt almost mocking.

Lilian hissed in frustration, “They’re reading my movements before I finish them!”

Elara slammed her staff down and summoned emerald chains of nature mana that wrapped around a construct’s legs.

For a split second, it worked.

Then the construct simply twisted its torso, snapping the chains with brute force. It blurred forward,

Elara barely raised a shield in time. Even then, the impact sent her skidding back ten meters.

“They fight better than early Diamond ranks.” Albedo muttered.

Lilian bared her fangs, “Understatement! They fight better than everyone in our academy combined!”

One construct lunged for Albedo. Another came from behind. A third leapt high, spear descending like a falling star.

Albedo planted his foot, twisted, and unleashed a full-fractal volley, two hundred micro-spells exploding in a chain-link burst around him.

The throne room shook.

Three constructs were hurled backward.

But they caught themselves effortlessly and slid into low stances, recalibrating their approach.

“These things are adapting,” Albedo said, sweat breaking down his neck. “Every move we use, they’re learning.”

Elara swallowed, “So it’s a skill test. Not power. Not brute force. Mastery.”

Lilian’s blood magic swirled around her in wild, chaotic spirals. “Then let’s give them a lesson they’ll never forget!”

Three constructs charged her, she darted backward with a dancer’s grace, leaping and twisting between their attacks, blood daggers slashing the air. The constructs mirrored her movements, adjusting, correcting, adapting.

But Lilian wasn’t relying on brute force. She feinted a high slash, dropped low, spun on her heel, and flung a blood-needle toward one construct’s exposed neck joint.

Direct and precise, the construct snapped its head aside at the last instant and returned a full-body kick that blasted Lilian across the chamber, smashing her through a marble column.

Albedo didn’t have time to check if she was okay. Two constructs were already on him.

He switched Havoc to Infernal, Ruin to Graviton.

Flame and gravity. He alternated shots faster than human sight, one shot curved upward, the next slammed the ground, the next ricocheted off a pillar into a construct’s back.

The constructs weathered the onslaught with shifting stances, absorbing impact, flowing like martial masters. Their movements were economical and perfect.

Elara forced herself between two constructs and slammed her staff into the marble, sending a shockwave of pure nature mana ripping out like a quake.

The ground erupted, marble splintering upward in jagged spikes. One construct grabbed a spike mid-eruption and hurled it back at her like a javelin.

Elara barely ducked and Albedo called out, “Elara, look!”

He said, firing off a Graviton Slug, and Elara channeled wind around it. Lilian, seeing this, infused the attack with blood resonance.

The combined projectile struck the nearest construct dead center, and that was enough. Its chest plate cracked, an extremely thin, fracture line.

Albedo saw it.

The algorithmic battle instincts in his mind roared: strike it again, same place, fast. He leapt forward, but three more constructs converged simultaneously, blocking his path.

Lilian’s voice echoed from behind him, wild and feral:

“Open the way!”

Blood erupted from her palms.

Elara blasted wind.

Albedo fired his pistols.

The combined force detonated the nearest construct, sending it sliding back.

The path opened.

Albedo dashed forward, twisting his body into a low spin.

The construct raised its spear, and Albedo threw forward some of his duplicating throwing knives which tore through the fracture, causing the construct’s chest to cave inward.

Light spilled out, and it spilled, the runic flames in its eyes flickered and then snuffed out, causing the first construct to fall.

One down.

Twenty-seven left.

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