Chapter 1298 Welcome Back Demons

Chapter 1298 Welcome Back Demons

As Michael watched, the intensity of the battle escalated dramatically. The warships above and on the sea fired volleys of cannons, each projectile infused with arch energy that glowed with a strange purple hue. The impact of these enhanced cannonballs was devastating, each hit causing the floating mountain to shudder more violently under their force. Michael steadied himself against the tremors while his eyes narrowed at the display of Skyhall's augmented firepower.

Just then, Ricky returned, his face pale and his expression tense. He quickly approached Michael, urgency evident in his steps. "I just received news from Sadie," he reported in a low voice. "One of the Skyhall elders got drunk and started talking to one of her girls."

Sadie Kaplan had established herself as a prominent figure across all the continents, even after Skyhall dismantled all the sects, including her own Silvermoon sect. Being Michael's subordinate and with his support, Sadie had risen to head his spy network. Her approach was both simple and effective, glamourous women who could extract secrets from men loosened by drink and the company of beauty. This made Sadie an invaluable asset in Michael's intelligence operations.

"The elder was mumbling something about awakening a demon army," Ricky continued.

Michael's brow furrowed deeply as he processed this information. He remembered how the Skyhall angels had been excavating the bodies of demons in the Demon's Grave and another realm, suggesting that they might now be utilizing these remains for some sinister purpose.

Ricky looked at Michael with a worried expression as his voice carried a hint of fear. "What's that supposed to mean, boss?" he asked, seeking some understanding or reassurance in the face of this ominous development.

"It means," Michael said slowly, piecing together the puzzle. "That Skyhall might be planning something even bigger than this attack. They're not just fighting, they're preparing for war, the upcoming war with us on a scale we haven't seen yet,"

His eyes drifted upward as he said, drawn to a sleek warship hovering further in the sky, its design distinct and ominous. Shaped like a sword, it sliced through the clouds with its pointed bow and streamlined body, the dark metal of its hull gleaming menacingly against the stormy backdrop. The warship's presence loomed large, and Michael had a bad feeling as he watched it.

Inside, the warship's command center was a hive of activity. A bold elder with white robes and a noticeable scar running across his face stood at the large window, his gaze fixed on the floating mountain and the unfolding battle below. The tension in his eyes mirrored the storm outside.

Around him, the hall buzzed as Skyhall soldiers hurried back and forth. They checked glowing runes on consoles, barked orders, and coordinated attacks with other forces.

Skyhall had achieved remarkable success in their dark experiments, managing to reanimate the demon corpses to nearly 80% of their former power from when they were alive. This achievement was one of many aces Skyhall had strategically held up its sleeve, preparing to unleash a reanimated demon army that had not seen the light of day for centuries.

With a measured pace, Elder Tarsus walked toward the center of the spacious hall filled with the silent coffins of demons. Reaching the center, he paused and tapped his foot against the cold stone floor. Instantly, a mechanism activated, and a pillar slowly rose from the ground. Atop this newly emerged pillar rested an orb, glowing faintly with an inner light that pulsed in sync with the lifeless hall around it.

The elder extended his hand and placed it on the orb. His face, usually impassive, now reflected the seriousness of the moment. Closing his eyes, he began to chant in a low, clear voice, each word of the activation sequence reverberating through the hall and causing the orb to glow brighter with each syllable. The runes on the coffins began to respond, flickering with renewed energy as the ancient magic that bound the demons to their eternal rest was slowly reversed.

As Elder Tarsus's chant filled the air, the elf stood nearby, watching the scene unfold with a mix of fear, awe, and anticipation. He listened intently, the atmosphere growing tenser with each passing second. Soon, the unmistakable sound of clicking echoed through the hall as the locks on the coffins began to disengage one by one. The air within the hall grew perceptibly chillier, a coldness seeping into the very bones of those present. Then, a series of low growls started to emanate from the nearby coffins, sending a shiver through the elf. The sounds were primal, filled with hunger and rage from eons of enforced slumber. The coffins started to shake more violently as whatever was inside began to stir, awakening from its deathlike sleep.

Amidst this charged atmosphere, Elder Tarsus completed his chant, his hand still resting on the glowing orb. He opened his eyes, which now flickered with a dark triumph. Looking over at the visibly shaken elf, he said with a sinister smile.

"Let's give the Dark Lord a taste of his own medicine."

Suddenly, the rattling and tremors emanating from the coffins ceased, and a chilling silence enveloped the hall. The abrupt stop in noise was more unnerving than the cacophony that preceded it, filling the air with a tense anticipation of what was to come next.

Feeling the oppressive quiet, the elf instinctively reached for the sword dangling at his waist. His hand gripped the hilt tightly, ready to draw it at a moment's notice, his eyes darting nervously around the dimly lit hall. Each shadow and every slight sound seemed magnified in the heavy stillness.

Meanwhile, Elder Tarsus maintained a confident, even grin on his face as he looked around, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of pride and malice. He seemed utterly unfazed by the eerie quiet, almost as if he relished the suspense and fear that filled the room.

Just as the tension seemed unbearable, a sudden, violent movement broke the silence as the top of a nearby coffin was violently thrown off, clattering across the stone floor. Then, a dark figure slowly rose from the opened coffin except the figure's features were obstructed under the dust cloud around it.

"Welcome back, demons," Elder Tarsus declared as his voice was filled with satisfaction, anticipation and dark amusement.