Chapter 1311 Attack On Mazeroth Academy III

Chapter 1311 Attack On Mazeroth Academy III

The three Half-Celestial ancestors hovered in the sky, slowly floating towards Michael. Their appearances reflected their ancient age: long white beards, deeply wrinkled faces, and eyes filled with a mix of fear and anger. Their robes were pure white, yet the witness of their robes barely showed under the darkness around them.

"Dark Lord, if you don't abandon this path to destruction, we will move heaven and earth to stop you." One of the elders, who had long white hair and beard hovered forward before warning Michael.

But when Michael heard the elder, he threw back his head and laughed as the sound echoed ominously through the air. His laughter was mocking, filled with a dark amusement that made the ancestors' warning seem pathetic.

"Your dialogues are cringeworthy," Michael sneered, shaking his head. "And just so you know, I'm not a cultivator of this realm anymore,"

As he spoke, the darkness around Michael thickened, his eyes turning completely black with no trace of whiteness. The already darkened sky grew even darker, casting an eerie shadow over everything. Harry and his friends watched from below, feeling the atmosphere grow thicker and colder. The temperature dropped considerably, a chill settling over the courtyard.

Looking at the sudden increase in the darkness, Clara could sense the immense power radiating from the Dark Lord. She could tell he was not playing around, he meant business.

"They're vastly outmatched. The Dark Lord's power is on a completely different level." Clara whispered.

However, the elven twins Aric and Lyria, unable to sense the Dark Lord's cultivation energy, clung to a fragile hope. "Maybe the ancestors can defeat him," Aric muttered, his voice betraying his uncertainty.

"We have to believe in them. They're our only hope," Lyria, echoing her brother's sentiment, added. But their support for the ancestors was short-lived as they quickly remembered who the Dark Lord was. "Shit, we shouldn't be saying this," Aric blurted out, glancing at Harry. "Sorry, Harry."

Even though he was best buddies with the elves and would die for them, he couldn't let go of a good opportunity to roast the elves. After all, the dwarves shared an inherent hatred for the elves because the elves were everything the dwarves despised.

"You elves and your flip-flopping loyalty. Stick to a side, damn it!" Thrain growled.

Meanwhile, Michael remained focused on the ancestors. The dark energy around him swirled violently, exuding a power that dwarfed anything the Half Celestials could muster.

"You elders might have moved heaven and earth in your prime, but now, you're just old men clinging to past glories," Michael chuckled.

[Ding! Congratulations to the host for successfully being a badass. The reward is 50,000 Badass points] [Ding! Congratulations to the host for successfully being a badass. The reward is 50,000 Badass points] [Ding! Congratulations to the host for successfully being a badass. The reward is 50,000 Badass points] ...

While Michael was ignoring the system notifications, the elder woman floated forward, her long, silver hair flowing behind her like a river of moonlight. Her face was lined with age, but her eyes sparkled with a shrewd intelligence. She was draped in ornate robes adorned with celestial symbols, signifying her authority in the SKyhall.

In addition to the two spells from the ancestors, the angels of Skyhall began casting their own spells. Though powerful, their spells were dwarfed by the massive ones cast by the Half Celestial stage ancestors. The angels surrounded Michael, hurling bolts of energy and conjuring elemental attacks.

Suddenly, Nithroel's warship hummed to life. The elves on board moved like a whirlwind, arming the cannons. Each cannon fired with a thunderous boom, smoke trailing behind as the cannonballs streaked across the dark sky. The sheer number of cannonball volleys hit many angels, making their bodies explode into blood, bits and pieces.

"Look out!" one angel screamed but was cut off mid-sentence as a cannonball tore through him, leaving a splatter of blood in the air.

"Retreat!" another angel yelled, only to be silenced by an explosion that sent shrapnel through his body.

But on the other hand, Michael remained calm amidst the chaos. He raised his head slightly, and dark beams shot out of his eyes, cutting through the spells cast by the ancestors as if they were made of paper. The beams were barely visible in the dark sky, but Harry and his friends caught glimpses of them under the light of the spells before they were obliterated.

"Unbelievable," Clara whispered with a mix of awe and horror.

As the beams sliced through the air, the two elders began to fly, trying to avoid them. Michael moved with them, his dark beams cutting through angels and the very air as they chased the ancestors.

"He's... unstoppable," Aric said, his voice trembling.

"Watch out!" Lyria yelled, pointing as one of the beams narrowly missed an ancestor, cutting through a line of angels behind him.

Now Harry realized what his mother meant by saying his father was on a whole different level compared to anyone in this realm. Seeing the Half Celestial stage ancestors, who were supposed to be akin to gods in the mortal realm, flying desperately to avoid his father's dark beams, he was stunned. This was what a true god could do.

"He's not even moving," Thrain muttered, disbelief etched on his face. "It's like he's toying with them."

Harry watched in awe as his father barely moved, only tilting his head slightly to adjust the trajectory of his dark beams. The ancestors, despite their god-like status in the mortal realm, were utterly outmatched. They dodged and weaved, but the dark beams seemed to anticipate their every move, cutting through the air with terrifying precision.

"Look at them, they're supposed to be the most powerful beings we know, and they're helpless," Lyria said.

"This is the difference between power we think we understand and true god power," Clara, clutching her spellbook tightly, could only nod in agreement. "I never thought I'd see something like this. It's... It's beyond anything we could have imagined," Aric, usually so confident, seemed lost for words. The sky was a chaotic mess of spellfire, dark beams, and the desperate maneuvers of the Half Celestial ancestors. The angels, caught in the crossfire, continued to be decimated by the relentless cannon fire from Nithroel's warship. Each shot sent more angels plummeting from the sky, their screams echoing through the night.

"We are doing good, Dark Lord...Elidyr's team will breach the shield around Mazeroth short. You just give them all a good show," ithroel's voice sounded in his head, making him smile in amusement.

"Oh, I am planning to. Besides, I am enjoying every second of this,"