My Celestial Ascension

“Before we take any action against the Holy Church’s army, let’s observe the battlefield a little longer,” Lily suggested, a faint smile curving her lips as her eyes gleamed with focus. “After all, those two unique entities haven’t made a move yet.”

“I don’t think so,” Yuan said, shaking his head with a grin forming on his face. His eyes locked onto the powerful Holy Knight Commanders far below. “Waiting around gives them time to plan. I believe in eliminating threats before they even get a chance.”

“They’re the ones commanding the Holy Church’s forces. If we take them down, their entire army will fall into disarray. Without orders, they’ll be nothing more than panicked cattle,” he added with a sharp glint in his eyes.

“I agree completely,” Valeria said, her voice dripping with bloodlust. “Let’s kill them immediately. My hands are already itching for blood.”

“Absolutely!” Yuan echoed with a wide smile. In one smooth motion, he summoned Empyreal Oblivion, his divine sword, from his system storage, its brilliance shimmering like a star being born.

One by one, Anna and the others summoned their own weapons from their spatial rings, their eyes reflecting the flame of battle. They stood ready—goddesses of war cloaked in beauty and resolve.

“This will be fun. Slaughtering them like pigs… I’ve been waiting for this moment for far too long… fufufu~” Mireya giggled, a tinge of madness in her voice as she gripped her sword tightly.

“Same here. This battle excites me,” Sylvia added softly, her sweet smile betraying the deadly intent behind her words.

“In that case, there’s no need to hold back anymore,” Yuan declared, lifting Empyreal Oblivion high into the sky. The tip of the blade pointed to the heavens, and in an instant—

BOOM!

His cultivation exploded like a storm breaking free from its shackles. An overwhelming surge of Qi spiraled around his sword, rapidly growing into a mass of pure energy so intense it turned the blade into a beacon of brilliant light.

The sky split open. The battlefield froze.

“W-What is that?!” “Is this some kind of divine intervention?!” “It looks like another sun just appeared in the sky!”

The soldiers of the Holy Church looked up in fear and awe. The light was blinding, searing into their eyes and burning into their minds. Their bodies trembled uncontrollably, their weapons slipping from sweat-slicked hands.

Inside the grand chariot at the edge of the battlefield, the Pope suddenly stood from his luxurious sofa. His expression twisted into unease as the blinding radiance pierced through the thick curtains of the chariot.

“This… This isn’t the Goddess’ doing,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing darkly. “Then what in the world is this? What kind of power is this?”

A cold sensation slithered into his chest like a venomous serpent, biting into his heart and coiling around his soul. It was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in centuries—fear.

He turned to look at the two angels sitting beside him, expecting their usual calm, but what he saw instead made his spine stiffen.

Both of them looked visibly alarmed. Their wings twitched. Their celestial auras fluctuated.

It was as if they were sensing something ancient… and apocalyptic.

Something that could not be ignored any longer.

Something that could destroy even them.

BOOM!

A massive pillar of golden light erupted from Yuan’s sword, piercing the sky and reaching far beyond the clouds.

“Empyreal Severing Sword Strike…” Yuan whispered, his voice calm and resolute as he swung his sword downward toward the vast army of the Holy Church.

BOOOOOOMMMMM!

A thunderous explosion followed the swing, and in the blink of an eye, the attack slammed into the army, erasing everything in its path. The ground itself trembled and shattered under the sheer pressure, as the wave of destruction surged forward like a divine calamity.

The soldiers stared in absolute horror. The golden pillar tore through everything, growing ever closer. But none of them could move—not even an inch. It was as if their bodies had turned to stone, and all they could do was watch the end approach.

“W-What kind of magic is that?” the Pope muttered, his eyes wide with disbelief as he watched the golden light ripple across the battlefield. “Why can’t I sense any mana in it? How strange…”

“We couldn’t either,” Valtheriel added, his tone serious. “And yet this attack… it’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

His words deepened the dread in the Pope’s heart.

“Indeed… I don’t think even the Goddess herself could unleash such destruction in a single blow,” said Selvariel, her usually composed face now glistening with sweat. “This power is far beyond our understanding…”

Her gaze slowly drifted upward.

There—above the battlefield, several figures floated effortlessly in the sky, their clothes and hair fluttering in the wind, eyes calmly watching the chaos unfold below. It was as if they were gods observing the struggles of mortals.

And then—her eyes met his.

The man at the center, with a divine presence and an unfathomable aura—Yuan. The moment their eyes locked, Selvariel’s entire body trembled.

‘W-What… was that feeling just now…?’

She could hardly breathe. Her heart pounded in her chest, louder than the battlefield. Her mind spiraled in confusion.

‘Am I… am I afraid of that mortal? But how? Not even in front of the Goddess have I felt such intimidation… How is it possible for a mere mortal to make me feel this way?!’

Her chest tightened, her skin damp with sweat, her hands slightly shaking.

Valtheriel immediately noticed her strange expression.

“What’s with that look? Did you just see a demon or something?” he asked, confused and slightly unnerved. It was the first time he’d seen her like this—genuinely panicked.

Selvariel didn’t respond right away. She just pointed.

“Look up… You’ll understand.”

“Hmm? What’s up there—” Valtheriel turned his head—and his voice caught in his throat. His eyes widened.

There they were.

Floating above them like divine executioners—Yuan and his wives. Their presence exuded a pressure that made his wings twitch and his instincts scream in terror.

“W-Who are these people?! How are they flying?!”

A deep chill sank into his bones. Every fiber of his body told him to run, to flee from this battlefield immediately.

But his pride screamed louder.

He was an angel, a loyal servant of the Goddess. There was no way he would flee—not now, not just because his enemies seemed overwhelmingly powerful.

Even if the world itself was collapsing around him… he would stand his ground.

Meanwhile, Yuan looked at his wives and issued a clear command. “Slaughter the Holy Church’s army immediately.”

“Leave the army to us. You can deal with the Pope and those two angels,” Valeria replied confidently before soaring toward Sir Alaric, who was still locked in battle with King Richard.

King Richard was being relentlessly pushed back. Each one of Sir Alaric’s strikes forced him to retreat, the sheer force behind the blows leaving his arms numb and his body drained of strength.

He could barely feel his limbs anymore.

“You should give up before it’s too late. I might show you mercy—and grant you a painless death,” Sir Alaric said coldly.

He pressed on, his blade slicing through the air with terrifying speed. King Richard could only evade, each swing narrowly missing him by inches.

“Keep dreaming… I won’t surrender!” King Richard shouted, a faint grin tugging at his lips.

Despite his exhaustion, he felt no despair—because he knew who had unleashed that terrifying golden pillar of light moments ago. He knew the tide of this war had shifted.

“Is that so…?” Sir Alaric narrowed his eyes. “Then I won’t show any mercy to a sinner like you.”

His gaze turned icy as he finally resolved to stop holding back.

“Holy Sword of Destruction!” he roared.

The sword in his hand glowed with divine energy, releasing a fearsome aura that seemed to tear the very air apart.

“Now die!” he shouted, swinging it at King Richard with blinding speed.

‘This is bad! I can’t dodge this…!’ King Richard clicked his tongue in frustration.

The strike was too fast. He could already feel the pressure of the attack collapsing the ground in front of him.

‘Is this… the end for me?’

But just as the glowing blade was about to cleave into him, another sword appeared—intercepting the strike and deflecting it with the back of the blade.

Bang! The explosion of power vanished on impact, completely neutralized.

A female figure now stood between King Richard and Sir Alaric, her sword raised, her presence overwhelming.

King Richard’s eyes widened in disbelief—and relief.

“Lady Valeria… You really came… I can’t express how grateful I am. With just one word alone, you saved my life. You have my deepest thanks,” King Richard said, recognizing the woman at once—Valeria Lionheart, the First Princess of the Lionheart Empire.

“You don’t need to thank me, King Richard,” Valeria replied gently. “If anything, I should be thanking you—for your bravery and for risking your life to protect the Empire.”

She gave him a soft smile, her voice carrying warmth and respect.

“Lady Valeria, you are too kind.” A weak smile appeared on King Richard’s face. He was completely exhausted after defending against Sir Alaric’s relentless attacks—he couldn’t even move a muscle anymore.

Right now, he felt helpless and weak. And yet, a strong flame of will began to burn in his heart after witnessing Yuan and his wives join the war on their side.

“You should leave this place and get some rest. Leave this man to me. I’ll take care of him in just a moment,” Valeria said as she shifted her gaze to Sir Alaric.

The moment Sir Alaric felt her eyes on him, a chill shot down his spine. His entire body trembled, and his instincts screamed at him to run from this woman.

His legs grew weak, as though he stood before a being beyond human comprehension.

“What the hell is happening to me? Why… Why am I scared of a woman? This isn’t like me at all…” Sir Alaric felt a deep confusion. And yet, despite his denial, his body wouldn’t stop trembling.

Valeria’s eyes narrowed as she looked at the man who had arrogantly mocked King Richard and nearly brought him to his limit. And yet—he stood there, shivering before her.

She sighed in deep disappointment.

“You’re so weak… yet you talk so big. Now disappear from my sight.”

With a single swing of her sword, Valeria sliced Sir Alaric clean from head to toe, splitting him in half in the blink of an eye.

He didn’t even have a chance to react before the blade cut through him. His body hit the ground with a heavy thud—split in two.

A wave of silence spread across the battlefield.

“W-What just happened?!”

“That woman… she killed Sir Alaric in the blink of an eye!”

“Run! Run for your lives! That woman is a monster!”

The soldiers of the Holy Church near Valeria immediately panicked and scattered like frightened rabbits fleeing a hungry predator.

Weapons clattered to the ground as they fled in terror, unable to muster the courage to face someone who had just killed the Commander of the Holy Knights so effortlessly.

They knew the truth: if she wanted to, she could slaughter them all with a flick of her wrist.

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