My Celestial Ascension

Anna and the others also continued to slaughter the Holy Church’s army left and right. Severed heads and blood flew into the air as they carried on with their relentless onslaught.

“W-Who are these people? How are they so strong??”

“There’s no way we can fight them! They’re all terrifyingly powerful!”

The Holy Church’s army began to panic as they watched their comrades being massacred by the beautiful women who had suddenly appeared on the battlefield, showing no mercy.

They pressed forward without stopping, cutting down hundreds of enemy soldiers with a single attack. They were unstoppable, displaying a level of strength and power that couldn’t be contained.

“One Sword One Strike!”

Yuan swung his sword at the enemy, cutting down thousands of soldiers in one sweeping attack, shocking both armies on the battlefield.

However, this was just the beginning. There was more to come. The Holy Church still had thousands of soldiers who hadn’t yet joined the battle.

Their numbers were still overwhelming compared to the Lionheart Empire’s army. Even though Emperor Philip had received aid from a neighboring empire, it was still small when matched against the Holy Church’s massive force.

“Hahaha! Finally, the help we’ve been waiting for has arrived. It’s time to push the Holy Church back!”

Suddenly, Crown Prince Daniel burst into laughter as he spotted a figure hovering above the battlefield. He immediately recognized who it was.

“Is that Young Master Yuan? And where are Lady Valeria and the others? I can’t see them.” Minister Vesta appeared behind Prince Daniel, a puzzled look on his face.

“Aunt Valeria and the others are thinning out the enemy. You can’t see them—they’re at the other end of the battlefield,” Prince Daniel replied.

“Is that so…” Minister Vesta felt a wave of relief knowing the reinforcements they had anxiously awaited had finally arrived.

‘With them on our side… victory is nearly assured. The Holy Church will now pay for their sins with their lives… a scene we must witness,’ Minister Vesta thought, his expression deep before a small smile formed on his wrinkled face.

“Everyone! Attack with full power! Destroy the enemy with our most powerful magic!”

At once, all the mages began preparing their strongest spells, working together to form a massive magic attack powerful enough to obliterate the enemy and shake the world itself.

Boom! A massive explosion rocked the battlefield as the colossal spell struck its center, engulfing countless enemy soldiers in searing flames.

War cries and bloodcurdling screams filled the air. The clash of steel echoed across the battlefield, spilling blood onto the ground and painting a gruesome scene that rattled even the bravest soldiers to their core.

“Interesting… I can’t believe they cast such a powerful spell, capable of obliterating thousands of soldiers.” Yuan stared at the scene, a look of surprise on his face as he halted his rampage on the battlefield.

With his Divine Sense covering the entire battlefield, Yuan could clearly see how the mages of the Lionheart Empire had pulled off such a feat.

‘I see… they combined their mana into a single spell capable of destroying thousands of enemy soldiers… not bad for mere mortals.’ Yuan smiled before fixing his gaze on the enemy soldiers approaching him.

His grin widened as his battle instincts took over. A crimson miasma emerged behind him, and his killing intent burst forth from his body.

The enemy soldiers instantly froze upon sensing the otherworldly aura surrounding Yuan. They felt their bones crack under the immense pressure radiating from him.

“Agh! What the hell is this guy?!”

“He’s crushing our bones without even lifting a finger!!”

The soldiers screamed in agony as their bodies bled and their bones shattered from the pressure. One by one, they collapsed onto the ground, barely clinging to life.

“Few mere mortals dare to stand in my way… how laughable! Even the Celestial Emperor wouldn’t dare oppose me—let alone a bunch of mutts!”

Yuan’s voice boomed as his laughter echoed across the battlefield. Behind him, thick, overwhelming killing intent morphed into a pair of majestic, ethereal wings.

All the soldiers trembled in terror as they beheld the wings on Yuan’s back. And before they could even react, Yuan vanished and reappeared right before them.

In the blink of an eye, the heads of every soldier caught in his rage were severed from their necks. Their heads flew through the air, trailing blood in their wake.

The sight stunned everyone watching from a distance, as though the ground itself had vanished beneath their feet.

The Pope, observing the war from within his luxurious chariot, was overwhelmed with shock. Panic painted his face, his heartbeat pounding loudly in his chest as silence took over the chariot’s interior.

The tension was suffocating. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead. He had never seen a battle like this—one man tearing through his army as though they were helpless swine, not elite Holy Knights.

“This doesn’t make any sense… How can someone like him exist in this world?! How is he so powerful and overwhelming?!” the Pope exclaimed, jumping from his lavish sofa.

Shock and disbelief were etched into every wrinkle on his face as he watched Yuan mercilessly decimate his army, blood spraying left and right.

“HAHAHA! More! I want more blood! I want more carnage! This isn’t enough!” Yuan laughed maniacally as he continued slaughtering the enemy. It was as though he had become an entirely different person.

The more he killed, the wider his smile grew. His killing intent intensified, becoming so lethal that soldiers died the moment they entered its range.

“One Sword One Strike!” Yuan roared, unleashing a devastating blow laced with Sword Aura that killed tens of thousands of heavily armed soldiers in the blink of an eye.

But he didn’t stop there. He kept releasing such attacks, rapidly thinning the enemy’s numbers. Now, only a few thousand soldiers remained on the Holy Church’s side.

“This is impossible! How could a single man wipe out my entire army?!” the Pope cried out in disbelief as he realized the outcome of the battle.

His army had been reduced to a mere fraction of its size. It made no sense—especially since it had been done by just one man. A one-man army.

“I can’t let the rest of my soldiers die! We have to win this war no matter what!” the Pope shouted, his fury boiling over as he turned toward Valthariel and Selvariel with a grave expression.

“This is the perfect time for both of you to act. Bring that man down immediately! If not, we’ll lose this war—and disappoint the Goddess!” the Pope commanded.

“Indeed. It’s time for us to act,” Valthariel said with a grim nod before vanishing from the lavish chariot room, closely followed by Selvariel.

“I hope they manage to take down this group of highly skilled and dangerous enemies. If they fail, our army will be annihilated, and we’ll lose everything,” the Pope muttered, his tone heavy with frustration.

He was rapidly losing patience. Fury surged through him like fire, all directed at one man—Yuan, the cause of his wrath that burned like a blaze in his heart.

“I’ll crush you! Just wait! With the divine protection of the Goddess, we’ll bring the Lionheart Empire to its knees!”

Meanwhile, Valthariel and Selvariel floated high above the battlefield. Their eyes turned cold as they locked onto one man—Yuan.

“This person is too dangerous to be left alive,” Valthariel muttered, his expression icy.

“And so are his wives… They wield powers beyond our comprehension, powers unfamiliar to this world,” Selvariel added, agreeing they must be eliminated quickly.

“I don’t think I can face this man alone. Back me up with your support magic,” he said, his voice low and resolute.

“Without hesitation. For the sake of the Goddess,” Selvariel nodded as she began casting her spell.

A massive magic circle appeared in the sky, covering half the battlefield as lightning began to crackle within its formation.

In the blink of an eye, Valthariel vanished from where he stood and reappeared behind Yuan, who was still busy slaughtering the Holy Church’s soldiers like pigs.

“God’s Judgment Blade!”

Valthariel swung his massive blade at Yuan from behind, convinced he had caught him off guard and could finish him off easily.

‘This is it! Die, you mortal bastard!’ Valthariel grinned inwardly, certain Yuan hadn’t noticed him. He was confident the strike would be fatal.

But suddenly, Yuan’s figure disappeared from his spot and reappeared behind Valthariel like a ghost, a wide grin spread across his face.

‘What?! When did he notice my attack?’ Valthariel was both confused and shocked.

“Did you really think a sneak attack like that would be enough to take me down? How laughable!” Yuan sneered.

A powerful kick slammed into Valthariel’s back, sending him flying several meters before crashing down violently onto the battlefield.

‘What the hell is with this guy’s strength?! He’s unbelievably powerful!’ Valthariel winced in pain, feeling it course through his body. He could no longer feel one of his wings.

“What?!” He looked over his shoulder—and his eyes widened. One of his wings was missing, and blood was dripping steadily from the wound.

When he looked back at Yuan, his expression shifted to disbelief. Yuan was holding his severed wing in one hand, that same grin still etched onto his face.

“When…? When did he grab my wing and tear it from my back?!”

For the first time in his life, Valthariel felt true fear toward a human, especially as Yuan casually tossed the bloody wing aside like trash.

“VALTHARIEL!!!” a panicked voice thundered across the battlefield, and powerful lightning bolts rained down upon Yuan from the sky.

But Yuan dodged them effortlessly, weaving through the strikes as if he were merely taking a stroll. Not a single bolt managed to touch him.

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