NOVEL NEXT Chapter 426: The Sky Cracks Open
Inside the towering walls of Golden Falcon City, high atop a watchtower, an elderly man stood beside a young woman. His gaze was fixed on the sky, his expression unreadable.
"Astrid… you saw that report, didn't you?" he asked quietly.
The woman beside him had golden hair that shimmered like sunlight, an apple-shaped face, and almond eyes with a dangerous glint. Astrid. The same Astrid who had personally slain Inugoro. At the moment, her expression was a conflicted blend of arrogance and fury.
"Clan Leader, who do you think has the gall to butcher our beastkin so brazenly?" she snapped.
The elderly man, Alistair, was the Clan Leader of the Golden Falcon tribe. Despite his advanced age, his presence remained oppressive, and his eagle-sharp eyes gleamed with power. He was a late-stage War God rank, a level only a step below the peak.
"I don't know who it is," he said grimly. "But I know this—our tribe is likely their next target."
Astrid nodded slowly, her lips curling in disdain. "No wonder you activated the city's defensive array today… but honestly, Clan Leader, aren't you being a little dramatic? We're not like those useless fringe tribes that folded like twigs. We're the Golden Falcon tribe."
Alistair didn't argue. His silence only reinforced the tribe's deeply rooted pride.
Still watching the sky, he said, "Astrid, make preparations. You'll leave for Hurricane City soon."
Astrid waved dismissively. "No rush. Even if I take my time, I'll get there in less than half a month. There's still more than a month left before the Sacred Assembly."
Alistair turned to her, brow raised. "You're avoiding Eamon, aren't you?"
Astrid's expression instantly soured. "That creep? If it weren't for his bloodline status, I'd have torn him apart already! How much longer do we have to put up with him?"
Alistair's expression hardened. "A little longer. After this assembly, Hurricane City will help us obtain the Sigil of the Wild Legion. Once we have it… we'll finally be able to release our King of Beasts. And then…"
He trailed off, but Astrid caught the implication.
"Hmph. The moment we awaken the King, I'll tear that pervert Eamon to shreds. He lays a finger on me again, I swear—"
Despite her violent tone, the pout on Astrid's face made her look more petulant than murderous. To any outsider, she appeared like a spoiled noble daughter—no one would guess she was one of the most deadly beastkin in existence.
Alistair reached out and ruffled her hair.
"Clan Leader! I'm not a child anymore!" she protested, cheeks puffed as she batted his hand away.
But her complaint froze mid-sentence.
Her eyes went wide. She pointed sharply upward. "Clan Leader… look! What is that?!"
Alistair turned sharply toward the sky.
---
Tens of thousands of meters above the city…
Black Qilin stood suspended in the sky, its four hooves resting atop a pulsating orb of dual-element energy—lightning swirling around fire. A red-tinged storm circled beneath it. On its back stood Ethan, his cloak flapping wildly in the violent currents.
He stared down at the churning mass of elemental force. The power was immense—dense enough to rupture the very laws of the world.
"Boss," Black Qilin's voice echoed in his mind, "I've absorbed everything I can. We're ready."
Ethan nodded. "Good. Don't drop me. You know how big I get."
Black Qilin groaned. "Don't remind me…"
With a smirk, Ethan lifted one hand.
"Spear—emerge!"
A beam of white light shot across the dky, solidifying in his palm. The weapon buzzed with joy, its energy brushing against his mind like an affectionate pet.
"Master, Master!"
Ethan smiled faintly. The voice inside the weapon was gentle and androgynous—youthful, full of emotion.
"Easy, little one. We're going to war again."
The spear shimmered in response, glowing brighter with excitement.
Ethan took a deep breath.
"Panther Form… activate. Transform: Ancient Demigod—awaken."
A hum vibrated through the sky.
Suddenly, a system notification appeared in his vision:
[Ding... Panther Demigod Ashaman cannot use 'Twilight War Spear.' Convert to a compatible weapon?]
Ethan blinked. Oh, right. Last time he used Bear Form, he hadn't been wielding anything. That form could use forelimbs to hold weapons. But Panther Form… it was fully beastial. No hands. No weapon wielding.
"Yes," he answered.
[Ding… Conversion complete.]
A golden beam descended, enveloping him.
His body exploded in size.
In his place stood a massive panther, shrouded in red starlight. Armor-like plating covered its forelimbs, face, and muzzle. Metallic fangs glinted in the light, etched with the name:
[Ashaman's Fang]
Even in beast form, his power felt boundless.
Below him, Black Qilin staggered slightly. "Damn, Boss—you're so heavy!"
"Hold steady!" Ethan barked.
He flexed his claws, glowing with a deep crimson hue.
"Still good… I can charge it."
Minutes passed as Ethan compressed his energy. The front half of his body now glowed with a blood-soaked aura—one that screamed death and domination.
"Alright, Blackie," he growled. "Let's go."
Black Qilin had been holding its breath the entire time. Even it, with its ancient bloodline, was rattled by Ethan's current aura. Managing the fire-lightning orb had become nearly impossible. In desperation, it had swallowed the orb whole just to keep it stable.
Now, finally, it dove.
---
On the ground, Julian caught sight of them.
He immediately ordered the Illusionary Qilins to scatter, creating a path in the clouds—a visual corridor straight to the city's barrier.
From the ground, Astrid saw it too.
A dark blur descending—wrapped in thunder and blood.
---
"Once the barrier is down, hit them with everything we've got!" Ethan roared.
At the right altitude, he leapt from Black Qilin's back, diving headfirst toward the shimmering dome of the city's defenses.
"BREAK!"
His claws slashed forward.
BOOM.
The sky cracked and the world dimmed.
Twin claw marks—hundreds of meters long—ripped through the air, glowing red, intersecting in the shape of a cross. They shimmered with killing intent so intense it choked the wind.
Below, Alistair and Astrid felt it.
A presence above them—dominant, ancient, impossible to resist.
Astrid dropped to her knees, paralyzed. Alistair barely stayed standing.
Even Black Qilin, airborne and proud, shuddered in the presence of that power.
This wasn't just a technique, It was bloodline suppression.
Black Qilin, though gifted with a rare mutation, had a lineage that traced directly to the mythical King of Qilins—a beast said to command all five elemental affinities and the fundamental essence of strength itself.
And yet, Ethan's Demigod form made even it bow its head.
Below, Alistair understood none of that. He only felt his legs going numb, his lungs squeezing shut, his instincts screaming at him to run.
Even with his status as a late-stage War God-rank, he was still leagues below Uncle Jed, whose power teetered on the edge of Saint-rank. But even Jed had sealed himself to avoid triggering the Heavenly Tribulation of Annihilation, a legendary event that destroyed everything in its path. One misstep, and there was no coming back.
So no… no one could stop this attack.
The crimson cross of energy slammed into the barrier.
CRACK.
The shield warped, twisted, and groaned. Reality itself seemed to buckle.
Astrid collapsed completely.
Alistair couldn't look away.
Ethan had no idea his Demigod Form had evolved to this level. Had he known, he would've led the charge personally a long time ago—instead of waiting for Black Qilin to gather energy.
But it was too late for second-guessing now.
The sky was falling.