Chapter 251: Anderdun (Part 1)
Darkness condensed in the void, wandering through the entire Formless Land, like an endless abyss that swallowed all colors and concepts. In this unified place, only the concept of “Death” could remain.
Suddenly, a golden flame lit up. The light of the fireworks pushed away the “Death” it touched. Verafia’s slender feet lightly touched the ground, and opening her brilliant gold eyes, she looked around with interest.
“Yo, this is it. Just as this young lady expected. Tsk, I thought that Necromancer bringing out Anderdun’s domain was to seize the remaining fragments of “Authority” here. But now it looks like they want even more?”
Although the Black-winged Monarch of the past fell under Lancaster’s Sacred Sword, and the Sacred Sword’s power even shattered half of this Deathwing’s “Divine Spark” into fragments, Lancaster’s strength, excluding the Sacred Sword, was at most at the peak of legends at that time. His mastery of deities was not as good as hers at that time.
Therefore, Verafia guessed that Lancaster, like her, at the time had no idea that the Black-winged Monarch possessed half a “Divine Spark.” And before Anderdun fell, he shattered his entire will, hiding it between the shattered demonic power and Divine Spark.
Then, for a century, until the Necromancer, suspected to be Fatter, arrived here.
“Fatter, this person…”
Verafia thought of her former teammate, who had the title of “First Mage.” A trace of surprise flashed in her moon-like golden eyes, and then she lightly shook her head.
From the Necromancer’s previous words, although not explicitly stated, it was clear that he had colluded with Douglas, the local lord, and was not only after Antaros’s “Bereavement” Authority, but also set his sights on her “Nirvana” as the Bl.
“Goo goo goo!”
Verafia’s golden eyes swept over the Fire Pigeon she held in her hand, and she stroked its wings with her fingers:
“Are you asking what I want to do? Does this need to be said? This young lady, of course, is also here for this Deathwing.”
Ever since stepping into this domain, Verafia had felt that it was being manipulated, but she had never felt the urge to leave, much less allowed his actions.
The only thing that could catch Verafia’s attention in this place was naturally her lifelong enemy, the Black-winged Monarch Anderdun. She just didn’t expect this Deathwing to also possess half of the Creation God’s Divine Spark.
“A deity’s status, even if incomplete, is enough for me to do many things.”
Verafia fiddled with the Fire Pigeon’s feathers, raised her pretty head, and said softly.
Just as the Necromancer said, she naturally did not come here without any means. It’s just that it wasn’t as the other party thought, relying on her power from her previous life.
As Lothel of the past, she was also extremely familiar with the Black-winged Monarch’s power. And now that he was dead, the demonic power scattered in this domain could be competed for by Verafia if she wished!
However, when Verafia arrived above the abyss at the core of this domain, she gave up on this approach and jumped directly down.
Verafia raised her golden eyes. Beside her delicate body, burning golden flames were like golden chalice flowers. Beyond that, in the pure deathly stillness, formless particles were like twinkling morning stars, possessing a familiar aura.
Upon arriving here, Verafia could feel more clearly that the life force and power of nearly ten thousand adventurers, extracted by the Necromancer, were continuously pouring into this shattered land of will and Divine Spark.
However, what was displayed was not just the re-refining of the “Divine Spark,” but rather, it seemed to reawaken the ancient will condensed in this space.
“To reawaken the Black-winged Monarch, does Fatter have some means to control him? That doesn’t seem right either. Why trick this young lady here as an ingredient? And no matter how strong Lancaster is, he wouldn’t allow a powerful Demon Race to revive, would he?”
Verafia muttered with her arms crossed, her slender eyelashes blinking her golden eyes, as she surveyed the rune fragments in the substance of the surging death “Authority” that were kept away by the golden flames.
“However, seeing how troublesome you all are, why don’t I lend you a hand?”
“Goo goo goo!”
The Fire Pigeon in the young girl’s hand suddenly felt something was wrong, but it couldn’t break free, so it could only cry out “Goo goo goo!”
Verafia grabbed the Fire Pigeon in her hand, her beautiful golden eyes blinked, and a slightly ill-intentioned smile suddenly appeared on her youthful, flawless face.
“Look, this young lady fell to this place to save you, this pigeon. So, why don’t you help me a little? Hmm, if you don’t say anything, I’ll take it as you agreeing.”
The Fire Pigeon felt immense fear and struggled its wings desperately. However, the girl ignored its “Goo goo” calls. Golden flames flowed from her fair fingertips, condensing into a sharp short blade, which she forcefully slashed at the base of the pigeon’s wing.
“Goo!”
The Fire Pigeon let out a miserable cry, but the wound cut by the girl actually bled substantial blood, which dripped into mid-air, dyeing the space around the girl. Golden flames quickly outlined markings.
“Alright, this should be enough to wake up Anderdun. Hmm, I was right about this pigeon. This is indeed a very pure Fire Spirit. Although it has no demonic power, even this young lady finds it desirable.”
Verafia patted the head of the miserably squawking Fire Pigeon in her hand, put it aside, and then raised her pretty head.
Against the gray-black background, the flames embellished with brilliant gold and crimson colors were striking. Following the girl’s will, lines of scorched gold markings rose and fell, shining brilliantly and dazzlingly.
Given Verafia’s current situation, the best choice to have enough power to permeate the core of this domain and reconstitute Anderdun’s rune fragments was naturally to use the Fire Pigeon beside her. Although this pigeon had no demonic power, its quality alone was more than enough.
“However, the Black-winged Monarch, Anderdun… well, he can be considered an old friend. Hmm, it’s about time.”
Verafia’s flashing golden eyes lifted, and a slight smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. She was looking forward to meeting another acquaintance.
In the space of a few of the girl’s thoughts, the patterns of firelight rapidly spread, and the brilliant golden flames connected the twinkling rune fragments of the entire sea of deathly stillness. Verafia’s snowy cheeks lightly lifted, revealing a hint of relaxation.
The sea, filled with the concept of “Death,” was illuminated by the firelight for an instant. The unimaginably “Bereavement” Authority was reflected as a substantial storm. In the boundless space, all substantial energy flowed rapidly, swallowed by the howling storm.
Amidst this surging tide of infinite energy, the solid rocks that had been differentiated for tens of thousands of years shattered, and the still waters evaporated, all reformed into the purest Death Magic. And a terrifying fluctuation was being born from it.
Verafia’s crimson long dress was also blown by the wind, revealing her fair and tender skin beneath the soft silk cloth.
The girl’s fingertips lightly pulled a strand of stray hair. On her delicate and flawless face, adorned with a slight smile, her scorched gold eyes gazed at the continuously forming entity… In the expanding pitch-black demonic power, the most iconic black wings could already be vaguely seen.
Anderdun, the Black-winged Monarch from the Demon Race War a hundred years ago. Legend had it that he was originally an ordinary black-winged skeleton from the Demon Realm, who, through countless bloodshed and killings, grew into a powerful being who mastered the “Death” Authority.
Of course, Verafia now knew that Anderdun’s “Death” Authority largely came from half of Atros’s “Bereavement” Divine Spark.
Although, in terms of sheer military might, Anderdun was not among the top-tier of the Demon Race’s Four Heavenly Kings, in terms of his influence on the entire war, no one could compare to him, not even the Demon King.
In the war that Verafia personally experienced back then, her Deathwing, which covered the entire sky, and the Death Magic that ruled the war could be seen almost everywhere.
As she thought of the past, a slightly cold smile appeared on the girl’s tender and flawless face. She raised her golden eyes, and in the continuously observed phantom, although it was difficult to look directly with the naked eye, for her, it was clearly not difficult to see that a concept called “Divine Spark” was rapidly reconstituting and condensing.
“Atros’s ‘Bereavement’ Divine Spark… but it looks like it’s a bit damaged?”
Verafia whispered to herself.
Just then, under immeasurable demonic power, the entire space distorted. The fierce storm was forcibly torn apart. The pitch-black demonic power, permeated with endless “Death” Authority, covered the entire abyss like a demonic cloud.
“Lancaster, humans! Heh ha, you didn’t expect this, did you? I can return! You will all pay the price!”
From the twisted, pitch-black demonic power, a voice filled with pain and hatred transmitted, weaving like threads to form a massive reflection.
A reflection of massive black wings appeared in the darkness.
The black wings obscured the sky, and menacing bone spikes protruded, flowing with gray-black demonic power. Even though it was not substantial, the moment this massive phantom appeared, the demonic power in the entire space beneath the abyss condensed into thick, liquid-like state, like an overturned great flood. The remaining peaks and gullies were instantly smoothed out, and real flesh and blood grew on the black phantom.
But the Black-winged Monarch’s voice suddenly stopped. Within his sight, a point of vibrant color, out of place with the entire world, appeared.
On the girl’s slender, delicate body, the magnificent crimson and scorched flame dress was lightly swept by the wind. Beneath her soft, lustrous hair, like the brilliant golden sun of the dawn, her exquisite and perfect face, like an artwork meticulously carved by the gods, bore a faint smile.
“Anderdun, long time no see.”
A clear, crisp girl’s voice, as clear as crystal and as melodious as a lark’s song, appeared in the entire silent space.
The demonic power burning on the Black-winged Monarch’s demonic wings abruptly stopped. His eyes fixed on the gorgeous and peerlessly beautiful Flame Girl, who had landed her delicate feet in his domain.
“You, you are Herafir of Flame…”
The Black-winged Monarch’s voice was full of shock, but he soon felt a familiar fluctuation from the girl’s delicate body. “No, you are Lothel!”
Verafia’s scorched gold eyes lifted, gazing at him.
The Black-winged Monarch’s voice instantly turned into wild laughter, transmitting throughout the entire space, causing the gales to dance. “I never expected that the hero who contended with me back then would not only crawl into her body, but also turn into a woman!”
