Chapter 1330 The Clone of Jasmine Voldiguard

1330 The Clone of Jasmine Voldiguard

Michael scanned the area intently, his keen eyes searching for the source of the voice. Despite his enhanced senses and X-ray vision granted by his status as the God of Darkness, he found himself unable to pinpoint its origin. The voice seemed to emanate from everywhere at once, filling the vast expanse of Skyhall. A slight frown creased his brow as he realized his usually infallible abilities were being thwarted.

Beside him, Lenora spun in a circle, her eyes darting from one floating palace to another. "What the hell?" she muttered, a mix of confusion and frustration in her voice. "Where's that coming from?"

As they searched, three figures began to materialize in the distance, shimmering into existence as if stepping out of thin air. Michael's gaze locked onto them immediately.

The first was a tall elf with flowing golden hair and piercing blue eyes. His presence exuded power, marking him clearly as a being of Celestial cultivation. Next to him materialized a short, burly figure with a prominent pot belly. His thick, bushy beard and long hair gave him a wild appearance, but there was no mistaking the power that radiated from him as well.

Finally, a white-haired woman clad in sky-blue armor appeared. She stood tall and stern, her very posture speaking of a seasoned warrior. Like the others, she too was clearly at the Celestial stage of cultivation.

As Michael observed these three figures, something nagged at the back of his mind. A sense of familiarity, of importance, pricked at his consciousness. Yet, try as he might, he couldn't place why these individuals seemed significant.

Unbeknownst to Michael in that moment, these were the three elders who had attacked Harriet Hunt, his mother, and cast him into the void when he was just minutes old. They were responsible for his imprisonment on Earth, a fact that eluded him now but would soon come to light with earth-shattering consequences.

For now, Michael stood alert, his senses on high alert as he prepared to face these powerful beings, unaware of the personal history that bound them together.

As the three figures materialized fully, Elidyr's reaction was immediate and intense. His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, the veins in his forearms standing out from the strain. His jaw set in a hard line, and his eyes blazed with a mixture of recognition and barely contained rage.

To Elidyr, these weren't just powerful celestial beings - they were the very elders who had burned his parents alive and stolen the Celestial Cannon from him. He knew firsthand their power, cunning, and cruelty. The memories of his past trauma surged forward, threatening to overwhelm him.

Michael, attuned to the emotions and body language of his companions, immediately noticed the change in Elidyr. He could feel the waves of killing intent radiating from his friend, so potent it was almost tangible. The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed as he glanced between Elidyr and the three figures, quickly deducing that there was a significant history between them.

What Michael failed to realize in that moment was that he too shared a dark history with these elders - one that had shaped the entire course of his life. "It's them," Elidyr hissed through clenched teeth, his voice trembling with barely contained emotion.

Michael turned to look at his friend, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to Elidyr's visible distress. The half-elf was shaking, his body wracked with a potent mixture of rage and fear. The memories recently unlocked by Wulfric had left Elidyr's psyche raw and vulnerable, and now, faced with the very beings responsible for his deepest traumas, he teetered on the edge of a breakdown.

Michael considered her words carefully. He knew he could easily overpower these three, despite their celestial cultivation. However, something about their presence, particularly the composed demeanor of Erael and the calculating look in Devdan's eyes, suggested there was more at play here.

While the dwarf seemed driven by emotion and old grudges, Michael sensed that the elf and the lady before him were not so easily dismissed as fools. Their very presence here, facing a god without fleeing, spoke of either great courage or a hidden agenda - possibly both.

Intrigued by what they might reveal, and always one to gather information before acting, Michael decided to entertain their request for talks. "Alright. Talk." He nodded slightly, his voice low and controlled as he responded.

Michael's gaze shifted expectantly to Erael, anticipating her to take the lead in this dialogue. However, it was Devdan who stepped forward, his blue eyes fixed intently on Michael.

"Before we proceed, Dark Lord, there's a matter of great importance we must discuss." Devdan paused, as if carefully considering his next words.

Michael waited, his patience masking a growing sense of unease. Something in Devdan's tone suggested that whatever was coming would be far from trivial.

Finally, Devdan broke the tense silence with a question, "What do you know about Jasmine Voldiguard?"

The name hit Michael like a physical blow. His frown was immediate and deep, a mixture of surprise and concern etching itself across his features. Jasmine Voldiguard - the name conjured a flood of memories and associations. She was the younger sister of Eve Voldiguard, Michael's best friend. The mere mention of her name in this context sent a chill down his spine.

As the implications of the question began to sink in, a sense of foreboding washed over Michael. The fact that these celestial beings were inquiring about Jasmine could only mean trouble. "What about her?" Michael coldly asked as his patience began to wear thin.

Revealing a cunning that had been masked by his earlier composure, Devdan's lips curled into a devilish smile.

"We have several contingencies for this exact situation, Dark Lord," he said, his voice laced with smug satisfaction.

"We've been several steps ahead, forming contingencies against you, the God of Darkness. One of those contingencies involves your best friend's younger sister. If you want to see her alive, you'd do well to listen carefully."

Michael's frown deepened, his mind already formulating a plan. He was about to order Azazel, his demon butler, to locate Jasmine when Devdan interrupted, as if reading his thoughts.

"Don't bother," the elf said, his smile widening. "The one out there in the mortal realm is nothing but a clone we created. The real Jasmine is secured and safe... for now."