Chapter 1288 The Skyhall's End Is Nearing
Standing alone on a mountain top, Michael stared out at the dark ocean, its waters even darker than usual. The realm had plunged into utter darkness, mirroring the void he felt within. Thoughts of Diana his mother, surged within him. He had grown up as an orphan, abandoned early in life. Despite their strained relationship and his rough upbringing, he understood the harsh necessity behind her decisions. They were right, perhaps, but not easy.
Now, knowing that Andohr intended to torture her, a fierce anger took hold of him, mingling with a newfound determination. He couldn't stand idly by; he needed to save her. The loss of Eve already weighed heavily on him, and the world's plunge into darkness seemed to feed him, making him feel stronger than ever. This strength, born from the shadows that now enveloped the world, fortified his resolve.
Unfortunately Michael's peace was shattered when a massive airship sliced through the dark clouds above, its engines a dull roar against the howling winds. As it hovered ominously over the mountain peak, several figures descended from it, their silhouettes sharp against the dark sky. These were the angels of the Skyhall, clad in metal armor that gleamed dully in the sparse light. Attached to their armors were metallic, feathered wings that spread wide, fluttering with the sound of rustling metal sheets. Each angel radiated a formidable aura, their cultivation at the Half Celestial stage, making them powerful opponents in any encounter.
Leading this formidable group were several elders of the Skyhall, their faces stern, and their eyes cold and unyielding, fixed on Michael with clear intent. These elders, veterans of countless skirmishes against the dark army, carried themselves with an air of authority and deadly purpose.
As they formed a tight circle around Michael, the lead elder stepped forward, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Dark Lord, your reign of terror ends today," he declared.
"Surrender now, and perhaps your end will be swift. Refuse, and not only you but also those you hold dear, Harry and Lailah, will be hunted down."
Michael sighed deeply, his gaze piercing through the encroaching darkness around him. The bitter wind whipped at his clothes as he faced the assembly of Skyhall's forces arrayed against him. "I'm already in a bad mood, so get the fuck out of my sight before I kill all of you and toss your bodies into the ocean below," he said coldly, his voice barely louder than a whisper yet carrying an unmistakable threat.
The lead elder, undeterred by Michael's menacing tone, responded with equal coldness. "You are far from your strongholds in the Southern Continent, and without the powers of a god at your disposal here, we stand on even ground," he retorted sharply. "Make no mistake, Dark Lord, we will use Lailah and Harry as leverage if necessary."
As the Skyhall angels and elders tightened their circle around Michael, a sudden surge of dark energy rippled through the air. From the shadows of the dark castle, figures began to emerge, led by Azazel, Lenora, and Trista. Behind them, the powerful dark army advanced, their presence menacing under the heavy, oppressive sky. The army halted just behind Michael, poised and ready to engage at his command.
Michael raised his hand, signaling them to stop. The battlefield fell into a tense silence, punctuated only by the rustling of metallic and feathered wings of the encircling angels. "Where are Harry and Lailah?" Michael demanded, cutting through the cold air with sharp authority.
Azazel stepped forward, his face grim. "They are still in Mazeroth, my lord," he reported.
As the standoff intensified, the lead elder's voice pierced the tense air, his words laced with menace. "You've already lost Eve, Dark Lord. Are you prepared to lose Harry and Lailah as well?" The threat echoed ominously, causing Michael's hands to tremble slightly.
In that moment of hesitation, a new voice resonated across the battlefield, distinct and commanding. "Dark Lord!" Michael turned sharply, his eyes widening at the sight of the figure approaching through the mist.
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