Even with light magic, harming her would require at least Ninth Rank magic.
Winnidith might have the ability to cast it, but her mana couldn’t sustain it.
But she had already created too many miracles.
“Accidents should not exist.”
A vortex formed in Elaril’s palm.
Once formed, it frantically absorbed the wind, wood, and dark elements in the environment.
She would use her three most proficient elements to personally destroy the mistake she had once made.
But as a mage, the most taboo thing was letting a warrior get close.
“Where are you looking?!!”
Leah, wielding the royal sword, had already reached her.
Her body radiated golden light.
Any darkness that tried to approach was riddled with holes by the light.
Divine Arts had no effect on her.
Elaril summoned a defensive magic.
The royal sword was naturally the most suitable weapon for the Elven King.
When Leah held it, her Douqi intensity was not inferior to a 9th-tier warrior.
The defensive magic wouldn’t hold long.
Reluctantly, she abandoned the vortex and instead used a fusion magic of wood and earth elements to resist Leah’s attacks.
This gave Winnidith ample time to prepare her magic.
In her mind, she rapidly recalled the structure of the Ninth Rank magic she had obtained from the Fountain of Memory.
Beneath her fingers, countless light elements converged under the guidance of mana, forming mysterious golden curves.
No, this is too slow.
The Spirit Cat formed from Spiritual Power screeched on her shoulder.
Countless light elements she had attracted began to split rapidly—but it wasn’t enough!
Ninth Rank magic required a terrifying amount of elements.
Even relying on the Authority of Creation, it would take at least three minutes.
So she needed complex incantations to attract more light elements—even the Source of Light.
Winnidith parted her red lips.
Complex and mysterious words combined into a grand, elegant ancient poem.
“I tunnel into the collapsed solar graveyard, gouging out the silent degenerate bones from the belly of the black hole—the white dwarf corpse wax crushed by gravity, wrapped in a shroud of iron oxide, waiting to be ignited!”
“Vacuum is not a nothingness of absolute void!”
But a boiling dark sea.
I pierce the Dirac abyss with a neutron star spear, pumping negative energy currents to forge a convex lens.
“The lens reflects the wrinkles of the cosmic amniotic sac!”
With the first stanza complete, sweat covered Winnidith’s forehead.
Each line of a high-rank incantation consumed massive mana.
She had only finished an opening, yet her internal mana was completely depleted.
She could only rely on the mana within the Sapphire.
Fortunately, the surrounding light elements became more active.
Steadying herself, Winnidith began the second stanza.
“Behold! This curved glass prison gate—a hundred billion light-years of gravitational ripples collapse within the lens. Galactic arms twist into spiral filaments. Dark matter erupts into chrome-purple toxic flames beneath the scar tissue!”
“I sacrifice constellation arms as fuel, comet corpses from the Oort Cloud as lamp oil… When the lens edge is coated with the blood of redshift, within the vacuum prison… a phantom of light begins its fetal movement!”
The second stanza ended.
Mana supply could no longer keep up.
The Sapphire emitted its life’s most brilliant glow.
On its smooth, polished surface, countless cracks rapidly spread.
She needed more mana!
Bearing the pain in her head, Winnidith diverted a portion of mana to launch a large fireball into the sky.
It was a prearranged signal—her mana was completely exhausted, and she urgently needed replenishment.
Seeing the signal, the Elven Hero Souls, already gaining an advantage on the external battlefield, unhesitantly leaped into the sky.
They abandoned their wills, turning their mana bodies that sustained their existence back into pure mana.
Countless streams of mana converged and flowed into Winnidith’s ocean.
Replenished, Winnidith’s mind cleared.
Beneath her fingers, countless lines of light had taken on the rudiments of magical theory.
But to unleash true power, it had to be fully perfected.
“Reignite! The coiled ancient light serpent! Spit out the carbon-based civilization embers you devoured—let the giant beast’s flesh regress into the rain of creation, let the pyramid’s giant stone become falling star dust! At this moment, the umbilical cord of time and space will reverse. Supernova remnants gather into a cradle of hydrogen.”
“Human gene chains unspiral into primordial soup.”
“And my right arm… crystallizes into an entropic epitaph!”
The magic array began to vibrate violently, shaking Winnidith with it.
But this was the most critical moment.
The slightest mistake would let the chaotic elemental currents devour the mage.
Now I finally understand why those Ninth Rank mages are unwilling to cast Ninth Rank magic.
This mana consumption and risk are unbearable!
Winnidith’s head pounded as if she had stayed up for a week straight.
Her eyes were bloodshot, her skull aching as if her brain was trying to jump out from the inside.
But it didn’t matter.
She really had stayed up for a week before.
Compared to facing heavy workloads and a boss’s scolding in the office, this trouble was nothing!!!
She squeezed out the last trace of mana from the Sapphire, maintaining a lone boat of reason amidst the chaotic, turbulent sea of thoughts.
Final stanza: Cost • Monologue of the Tombstone.
“This body is a reverse monument!”
She shouted, keeping the sail of reason with her high-pitched voice.
“The epitaph carves the lie of heat death:”
Elaril suddenly felt a palpitation in her heart.
Impossible!
This is just a Ninth Rank magic—why does it make me so terrified!!!
“All things are born of light…”
“They will be buried with the testament of light.”
Something’s wrong!
This magic is not right!
It’s not ordinary light magic—it was created from the very beginning to target Dark Elves!
“Finally realized it? Unfortunately, the time is too late?”
Elaril’s pupils contracted sharply.
Countless light spikes pierced her body, nailing her to a cross of wind.
At the critical moment, Alvain released the last of the power he could muster, completely cutting off any chance of Elaril interfering.
In an instant, his body aged further, but he smiled at Winnidith on the ground.
His moving lips matched Winnidith’s mouth.
“And the signer… Is the withering afterimage in the vacuum mirror!”
With the final incantation complete, the magic array, as tall as Winnidith herself, finally formed.
Its form was extremely unstable—Winnidith’s mana could not sustain it for long.
But its mere appearance was enough to change the battlefield.
“This is!”
“Twilight of Creation!!!”
In Elaril’s pupils, a point of light was rapidly expanding.
As if the very cause of the universe’s birth was merely the explosion of a point.
Boom!!
The City of Emerald Shadows welcomed its brightest day ever.
Everyone looked up at the white sun rising from the holy ground.
In their hearts, there was nothing but shock.
“Cough… cough, cough, cough, cough…”
After releasing the spell, Winnidith collapsed unsteadily to the ground.
She wanted to breathe deeply, but what came out first was fresh blood.
So tired, so tired, so tired.
She lay on the ground, suppressing the nauseous feeling in her chest, staring at the white sun she had created in the sky.
Only one thought remained in her mind:
If he takes this head-on, Elaril should be done for, right?
“Father!”
Lia, who had dodged in time, rushed toward Alvain.
But she found his face filled with urgency.
“Don’t come near!”
Alvain was too late.
Just as Lia approached him, a vine suddenly burst from the ground and pierced through her body.
How is this possible?
Lia’s pupils widened in shock.
Within the pure white sun, a black dot appeared.
Elaril was not dead.
Non-Saint Realm magic could not kill a Saint Realm.
But she was in an extremely sorry state now.
Her body was covered with scorch marks from the burning sun.
Her aura had withered to an unprecedented degree.
Even the black crown spinning above her head—the symbol of the Sacred Tree’s blessing—was now covered in countless cracks.
Right now, calling her the weakest Saint Realm would not be an exaggeration.
But she was still a Saint Realm.
With the Sacred Tree’s blessing, she would quickly recover.
“Your Highness, the fun ends here.”
She had captured Leah.
So this was over.
But Leah, despite the severe wound to her chest, did not give up.
She gritted her teeth and threw her sword with all her might.
Elaril watched the scene without moving.
That sword had no special features.
She had been extremely wary of it before—it was the sword of successive Elven Kings, possibly containing some powerful power.
Moreover, Leah’s repeated furious pressing of the sword’s pommel had convinced her that the power inside was Leah’s true reliance.
But later, Elaril had easily forced out that sword with a mere two-element fusion Thunder Spear.
She was disappointed—the sword had no hidden power.
It was merely more convenient for Light Elves to use than other weapons.
Perhaps it could strengthen some of the Elven King’s power, but from Lia’s combat performance, that strengthening was nearly negligible against a Saint Realm.
Let’s start the sacrifice of Leah.
She controlled the vines to rush toward Leah’s body, intending to use her life to replace Alvain and break the seal.
But her arrogance never made her consider one thing:
What if all of this was exactly what Leah wanted her to see?
Alvain caught the sword.
This was the first Elf King Anaris’s sword.
Forged from the Sacred Tree’s scattered twigs at its birth and fused with extraterrestrial iron, it had followed him to great achievements in the War of Divine Fire.
For a thousand years, it had served as the successive Elven Kings’ sword, guarding the Elven race.
After a millennium of baptism, it was no longer an ordinary weapon.
Its body bore the imprint of the Elven King.
Even without a true sword spirit, as long as it appeared in the Elven King’s hand, it would resonate with his will!
The next moment, a pillar of light more dazzling than the Twilight of Creation soared into the sky.
Looking at that pillar of light, everyone’s hearts settled.
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