Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

Artanis brandished psionic blades with both hands, responding on behalf of the Darram Protoss in the mind-connected Holy Light.

"In the name of Archbishop Artanis of Darram, the Firstborn Son of God, we will fight alongside you! We will uphold justice, En taro Ramon!"

"Do not resist! My people, embrace this light and break free from Amon's control!"

The crimson lightning flashed again in their minds, and all the Protoss heard that unwilling voice.

"No! All the Protoss belong to me!"

The Sea of ​​Light responded, and holy light surged from the void, enveloping the Protoss forces and leading them across deep space, escaping from Aiur.

"The Firstborn Son of God no longer fears you, Amon. Enjoy this moment of victory!"

Archbishop Artanis vanished in the holy light.

“We will surely return to Aiur, and then, with new allies of the Holy Light, we will grant you eternal death.”

……

On a wild planet, a towering warrior, weapons on his back, journeys toward the sacred land spoken of by the elders. The calamity of white frost descends upon his tribe; plants wither, prey sinks into the frozen earth, and the deadly cold claimes the lives of chicks. All, heeding the elders' doomsday prophecy, retreat into their homes, silently awaiting death to knock on their doors.

"Arahan, you are the tribe's foremost warrior. Go to the holy land, slay your rivals, and please the gods with your martial prowess—this is your only hope. Become the chosen one, and our tribe will overcome this calamity because of you!"

Alahan was convinced of this. He endured hunger and walked alone on the frozen ground for two years. He broke through glaciers and filled ravines. His hair and beard turned white in the frost and snow. Alahan's eyes were cloudy, but his hands were still strong and powerful. The huge weapon frozen in his palm left white marks on the frozen ground.

From a young age, Arahan was trained as a candidate for God's Chosen. His martial arts skills were honed to the point of instinct, and his mind was instilled with an indomitable fighting spirit. His only options in life were to die in battle or to return victorious as God's Chosen. The process was tedious, but it was this tempered spirit that allowed him to persevere on his journey, which was fraught with near despair.

“The Holy Land, you will understand when you get there.” The ancestral teachings passed down through generations are the only clue, though they have many flaws, but Arahan is not good at thinking.

One day, he arrived at what was likely his destination.

The first sign of the anomaly was his attempt to carve a tunnel through the mountain. However, he discovered the soil and rock were exceptionally hard; the rock walls, which would normally explode with a mere punch, remained unmoved by his blows. Undeterred, Alahan used all his strength, even resorting to weapons. After all his efforts yielded no results, Alahan finally became curious about the mountain.

He used the existing grooves in the mountain wall to climb up, ten meters, a hundred meters, until he was exhausted. He leaned against the cold mountain wall to breathe and recover his strength. After resting for about ten times, the clouds looked like new earth, and Alahan finally climbed to the platform at the top.

The moment his feet touched the ground, Arahan went on high alert. His warriors instinctively detected about twenty threatening figures.

Those were ice sculptures erected around the steep cliff. Their similar forms made Arahan realize their true nature: competitors, his rivals, those who stole the gods' favor. The wait had been so long that the water droplets had frozen solid on their skin, and their heartbeats had almost disappeared, but Arahan's keen hearing still detected them.

They are resting, conserving their energy, and waiting for God's selection to begin.

Alahan paused for a few seconds, intending to rest on the spot as well.

“The one with the thickest ice layer has probably been here for almost ten years.” Arahan looked at the statue beside him, following the voice. Its face was not yet covered by ice, revealing its crooked right eye and moss-covered beard.

Alahan did not respond.

"Newcomer, do you know? The Chosen Ones are actually a complete hoax. It's said that the gods who bestowed these favors are actually hostile to our civilization. They used intrigue and trickery to weaken our race, but fearing our power, they instigated this gladiatorial society, where the strongest young men kill each other, plunging the world into strife. The training of each Chosen One causes the extinction of more than a dozen species. Our infighting has weakened our social structure, causing other skills besides combat to disappear and degenerate, forcing us to rely on the so-called Chosen Ones for survival. This is the reality of this planet. The gods have abandoned us, and only destruction awaits us."

Alahan closed his eyes for two seconds.

"Are you crazy? If you let unnecessary thoughts interfere with your fighting spirit, I'll be the first to take you down."

The bearded candidate laughed.

"No, these aren't my own thoughts. They're what a madman in our village said, and I just memorized them. Even though I don't know what they mean, it's actually quite amusing to have someone repeating them to me."

"Then you should continue looking for that madman and stop bothering me."

The bearded man laughed heartily.

“I asked him if he could solve the White Frost Calamity, and when he couldn’t answer, I killed him. Don’t let my appearance fool you, I still have some brains. He can’t solve the White Calamity, but the gods can. The gods are better than madmen, and the gods are right. So he was lying to me; he’s a bad seed. Killing him will improve our village’s fighting strength.”

Alahan did not reply.

After an unknown amount of time, a hearty laugh roused Arahan. One by one, warriors broke through the ice and looked toward the center of the platform, where a dazzling pillar of light shone.

"Hahaha, I knew the gods existed! The gods haven't abandoned us!"

Raymond's voice echoed in Alahan's mind.

"No more competition? Just eliminate the designated target? Whatever!"

"Great God Raymond, I swear to become your chosen one and wipe out all your enemies!"

"Let the slaughter begin!"

"We, the chosen ones of God, will bring about a great extinction!"

Spurred by his competitor's murderous intent, Arahan roared, leaped with all his might, and vanished into the light.

……

Countless warriors from different eras, driven by their beliefs, joined the Holy Light Alliance.

They fought against the new races created by [the world] on the battlefield, shining like the sun under the holy light.

"For Raymond! For the new Kara!"

"For the sake of the great god, let us drink blood!"

Several meteorites fell from the sky, crashing into the battlefield and erupting in black-red and ghastly green flames. Archbishop Artanis stared in astonishment at the crashed ships, lost in thought.

The fragments collapsed, and the colossal Dark Archon roared across the battlefield, unleashing lightning to tear apart the black mud. Green scythes charged towards the energy body, the void blades clashing with the lightning.

Multiple overlapping screams can tear a person's eardrums.

The Dark Archon greeted the Dark Templar.

"Why don't you just die like this, Artusu? You must be in a lot of pain."

The Protoss, wielding a double-edged scythe, assumed a fighting stance. "I think the same as you, Sora Camoni Ann."

“Stop. The fact that we arrived in this unfamiliar star system at the same time means that we have both been called.”

The Dark Archon let out another painful scream, wiping out the enemies with psionic lightning.

"Lofdi! Where are you!"

The Protoss emerged from the shadows.

"I am here, my comrades, you have just arrived at the last moment."

Sora Camoni Ann lowered her head, her red eyes flashing with electricity as she stared at Lofdi.

"Dark Exile, I heard you found yourself an archbishop? Where is he?"

Artusu pointed to the golden angel at the forefront of the battlefield and answered on Lofdi's behalf.

"It's probably that one."

"It doesn't look very good."

Lofdi found his companion's sarcastic comments amusing, and he extended his palm to his comrade, whose face was tormented beyond recognition by the Void.

“You will regret saying that to Archbishop Raymond, very soon.”

Sora Camoni Ann snorted and placed his lightning claws on Lofdi's palm.

The Dark Archon entered the Kingdom of Light.

Sora: "Then..."

Carmoni: "Let me..."

An: "We'll wait and see."

The three Templars looked at their slender hands overlapping and at the noble bodies they had once abandoned.

Sora: "The pain is gone."

Kamoni: "This is what it means to be alive."

Ann: "I apologize for my offense."

They once chose to merge in a moment of crisis, but the Void's corruption turned their sacrifice into mutual torment. Now, they have been blessed once more and returned to their past as Templars.

Lofdi looked at Atusu, the warrior forged by the holy light.

"I hope you still remember how to wield your blade for glory."

Artusu's light laugh disappeared into the leaping arc of light as he charged forward.

“I remember every moment.”

Lofdi brandished his light blade and charged into the enemy ranks with a series of flashes.

"Fight for the Holy Light!"

"Fight for Raymond!"

Chapter 855 Artificial God

The battlefield was filled with shouts of battle and blood-stained blades. Triton, who connected heaven and earth, stood in silent confrontation with his opponent. An ancient voice appeared in his mind, its unchanging calmness like the stones of a tomb, sending a chill down his spine.

You brought these dusty outsiders into my world, and when I sweep away all this trash, I'll take them with me.

Raymond's allied forces were restricted by the [world] and unable to participate in the battle. They could only watch as reinforcements and their clones stood together in a tense standoff, while the restless black mud around Triton exacerbated the unease.

The Dean and the Scholar came to Raymond's side one after the other.

"You'd better have another way, or we'll resort to the final measure suggested by the Dragon Priest."

Raymond turned his head and glanced at the Blue Dragon Priest with surprise.

"I'd like to hear your suggestion first."

The Blue Dragon Priest gripped his staff and bowed slightly under the gaze of the Angel of Light.

"The magic network is still there. We can detonate the magic network and destroy the evil god, forcing the will of the damaged planet into a period of dormancy. The price is that my avatars in the magic network, such as the blue dragon, will be erased, and other life forms not within your barrier will die instantly."

The dean added.

"The sacrificed dead will be awakened by Andrei and become liches; this is the compensation I can guarantee."

Raymond looked at the Soul Reaper, whose ghostly blue soul flames burned silently, unchanging under the gaze of the holy light.

"Have you never thought about completely ending the evil god, just sealing him away, like before?"

The scholar slowly shook his head. "The fully awakened Triton has exceeded our expectations. Our century-long scheming against the evil god has been far too shallow. The existence of the Holy Light has given us hope, but perhaps it is this hope that has made us complacent. In the end, we still have to solve the problem ourselves."

Raymond's wings of light receded slightly. This was the first time he had spoken calmly with a dragon priest, and his tone was tinged with regret.

"Well, I used to think I could handle all the problems, but I failed once too."