The Witcher: Start with the Lord Marrying a Wife.

Chapter 618 The Howling Shadow

The Silver Moon Saintess, Aliya, stood before the dilapidated temple, her long silver hair fluttering gently in the morning breeze, her eyes as cold and resolute as if frozen in ice.

Her gaze was fixed on the burning and destroyed Temple of Nature ahead, a sacred place that once worshipped the spirits of nature and witnessed the harmonious coexistence of all races, now being wantonly burned by the Church of Holy Light as heresy and evil.

Flames licked at the stone pillars and trees, and thick smoke rose like a black torrent, turning the entire sky dark red.

The remaining altars were littered with fragments of burnt offerings and charred holy books, their once sacred, solemn, and pure aura now completely destroyed.

“David is the true savior of all races.” Alia clenched her fists, her cheeks flushed slightly, a burning emotion a mixture of anger, grief, and an incredibly clear understanding of the future.

At that moment, a beam of emerald green light suddenly shot out from her large, clear eyes, which shone like morning stars.

A natural force surged forth from the depths of her body, resonating intensely with the power that was filled with redemptive divinity.

The surrounding air trembled suddenly, and swirling emerald-gold vortices slowly rotated among the ruins, like the spirit of the forest awakening, rousing the silent earth.

Aria's eyes gleamed with unwavering determination as she raised her ancient war staff high. The staff was entwined with green vines and dazzling gems, and every slight tremor released the vitality of all things.

With a wave of her arm, a barrage of emerald green magic arrows rained down on the twelve Holy Light Transmission Towers in the distant sky.

These transmission towers soared into the clouds, each radiating pure and powerful spiritual energy fluctuations, serving as crucial hubs for the church to maintain logistical supplies throughout the battlefield.

The emerald green arrows struck their targets with precision, and the transmission towers were paralyzed amidst the violent explosions. A large amount of runic energy broke apart and disintegrated, and fire quickly spread and engulfed their structure.

The sudden attack caught the defenders of the transmission tower off guard. They frantically brandished their weapons in an attempt to resist, but they could not stop the destructive storm that was a product of the combined forces of nature and redemption.

The entire logistics system of the Holy Light Alliance was paralyzed in an instant, supply lines were broken, and transit stations were in chaos.

"Faith is our strongest, most unyielding shield!" Alia's voice was clear and resolute, each word striking deep into the hearts of her allies present.

"The Dawn Cult has betrayed the true duty of protecting all living beings. They disguise justice with hypocrisy, yet they desecrate the blessings of heaven and earth. Today, we will ignite the true dawn with our faith!"

She raised her hand and tore apart the Dawn Cult emblem that had hung on her chest for many years. The emblem cracked with a sharp sound as it fell to the dust like a broken oath.

A burst of rousing drumbeats soon resounded throughout the city and its streets, inspiring 30,000 devout and determined new believers to respond to the call.

They wore traditional costumes of various ethnic groups, but all wore emerald green capes, symbolizing their unwavering pursuit of Mother Earth and the truth of salvation.

Holding long guns and sharp blades, they were not afraid of powerful forces and used their actions to announce that a new revolutionary prelude had been opened!

The procession stretched along the streets and alleys, with countless citizens peeking out from their doorsteps to watch. Some had tears streaming down their faces, some were praying quietly, and others were clenching their fists in a show of unwavering support.

They witnessed the corruption and incompetence of the former ruling class, but now there is a group of ordinary people who dare to challenge taboos and stand up for their homeland against the icy storm.

This is an emerging force that cannot be ignored; it is a symbol of the human spirit that remains unyielding even when faced with battles between gods.

The atmosphere throughout was tense yet full of hope: flags fluttered in the streets and alleys, bearing the words "Truth," "Freedom," and "New Dawn."

The elderly and children walk hand in hand, protecting each step together;
The soldiers stood in tight formation, their eyes fixed ahead, without any fear, only a sense of mission driving their hearts to pound against their chests.
The mages carried various runic artifacts, flanking the ranks to cast defensive spells and enhance physical and magical abilities, aiming to maximize both the safety of the march and the effectiveness of attacks.

Meanwhile, some residents of the old town, whose buildings were severely damaged but still stood on the edge, also joined the march.

Their faces were covered in dirt and abrasions, but the tenacity shining in their eyes was moving. Among them were elderly women and young children. This was a group of people who had endured hardship but had not fallen. They were the most fundamental and real source of hope for the new era!

At this moment, a strange phenomenon suddenly appeared in the sky: a rumbling and shaking sound suddenly came from the depths of the distant clouds, and a huge emerald-gold hurricane, like the branches of a giant tree, spiraled and rose, intertwining with the afterglow of the heavenly palace, and continuously devouring and refining the dark gray clouds.

It brings not only new vitality through the fusion of natural elements, but also a declaration of ruthless judgment against the oppressors.

Several crystalline runes could be faintly seen flickering in the eye of the hurricane. These runes drew in the energy of heaven and earth, causing it to flow and spread wildly, providing allies with continuous buffs and protective barriers.

This greatly boosted morale on the front lines. Many wounded soldiers felt a wonderful warm current flowing into their bodies, as if their life force had been replenished and their spirits were lifted!
One of the leaders, Salil, the Grand Master of the Silver Moon Knights, was the first to step forward and stand next to Alia. He was clad in heavy silver armor and fully armed, yet he remained humble.

His face was resolute with distinct features, and the silver strands at his temples revealed the vicissitudes of life, but his eyes were still full of fighting spirit.

"We will fight a bloody battle in this 'revolt of faith,' and no matter how many times we fall, we will rise again! Because this is our era!"

He raised his sword and shouted, prompting 30,000 people to respond in unison: "For freedom! For the future! For truth!"

The sound was loud and deafening, as if it could shake the heavens and startle all sleeping beings.

This moment is no longer a cold-blooded scheme between gods, but a magnificent epic chapter of the true will of mortals!

However, victory is by no means easy; the road ahead is fraught with difficulties.

Various enemy sentries could be vaguely seen scattered outside the city wall. They were armed and on high alert, and used complex barriers to strengthen their defenses.

Meanwhile, shadowy worms lurk in the surrounding area, spreading their tentacles and web-like structures in an attempt to find a way in. Those who oppose them must be fully armed and highly vigilant, or they will face a deadly crisis.

Furthermore, sudden dimensional fluctuations frequently occur on the ravaged land, and various spatial distortions affect the pace of the war, making it difficult for participants to predict the situation in the next second...

But none of this could stop the flames burning fiercely in the hearts of mortals, who used their own flesh and blood to build an indestructible spiritual wall.

We will shatter and rebuild the history of past oppression and trampling, just to welcome the dawn of a new era that belongs to all races!
The chaotic flames continued to burn within David's body, but his form seemed to be torn and twisted by countless invisible hands, and pain spread across his brow.

"Boom—!" A series of deafening roars came from the depths of the earth, and countless shadow worms surged into the edge of the End Corridor like a tide.

They were enormous, their bodies viscous like ink, writhing, their tentacles intertwining in the air to weave a dense, dark grid that seemed capable of devouring all life and light.

The corrosive aura emanating from these creatures rapidly eroded the surrounding laws and remnants of faith. Whenever they touched a sacred domain, its radiance dimmed and vanished. Within the divine realm, countless believers, burdened with the responsibility of protection, gradually succumbed to unprecedented despair.

"Aaaaah—!" A shrill wail erupted from the infected, and the souls of those who were once devout and steadfast believers began to twist and mutate.

Their eyes were vacant and their faces were contorted, as if they had lost their self-awareness and were left only with the instinctive reaction to pain and destruction.

The souls are entwined with eerie shadows of dark blue and crimson, which raise their heads and howl wildly, turning this sacred land into an endless nightmare.

This is the "Wailing Shadow," a terrifying and corrosive mutated monster formed by the parasitic and corrupting souls of shadow worms.

Liliana stood at the edge of the royal court, her dark blue robes fluttering in the wind, shimmering with wisdom like a ghostly blue flame in the twilight.

She frowned, focused, and closed her eyes, her deep purple eyes surveying the entire battlefield situation like a starry sea.

As she slowly opened her eyes, a dazzling rune of law burst forth from her fingertips, radiating a brilliant silver-white light that scattered across the entire altar like stars, gradually purifying the area filled with corrosive miasma.

"Activate—the Law Purification Protocol." Her voice was deep yet firm, echoing a solemn vow in the silent depths of the universe.

In an instant, deafening chants resounded throughout the royal court's administrative hall and numerous temples, as countless silver-white souls spontaneously gathered.

It was formed by the combined will of 100,000 high-ranking priests who willingly gave up the constraints of their physical bodies and voluntarily melted their souls into this purification ritual to completely dispel the remaining pollution.

Their faces were solemn and peaceful, their eyes revealing an infinite longing for the future and a determination to sacrifice.

When they transformed into a pure torrent and flowed into the world, endless silver ripples spread out, like a vast galaxy falling to earth, injecting the final cohesive force into the nascent order that was on the verge of collapse and teetering on the edge of an abyss.

However, the cost was exceptionally high.

As the purifying power was being infused, many loyal believers perished due to the immense mental burden they bore, with some even losing their souls and dissipating at the climax of the ritual.

The pure torrent they sacrificed to create erected a temporary but indestructible barrier for the Hall of the End, but it also caused the territory of the divine kingdom to shrink by a third.

One by one, once glorious and splendid places fell, countless towns were reduced to ruins, and the townspeople cried out and pleaded, but those places were no longer within their protection...

David stood in the center of the altar, his hands gripping the halberd tightly, yet he felt his own divine power tremble violently, as if the blazing chaotic flames were being extinguished by the surging tide of filth.

Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, but he gritted his teeth and endured the excruciating pain. Under the reflection of the shattered runes of heaven and earth, blood kept spilling from the corners of his eyes, dripping onto the ground, mingling with the embers of battle fury.

This blood is not only a physical wound, but also a symbol of his will, a manifestation of his determination to protect the new order at all costs!

"I...will not fall!" he murmured resolutely. "This land, this new world, and the future of all races...cannot be destroyed because of my weakness!"

His voice pierced through the smoke and dust of war, was heard by the guardians, and was engraved in every corner of the heavens and the realms.

This was a low roar, a life declaration bursting forth from the crimson flames before they reached their limit!

Meanwhile, outside the Corridor of the End, howling demonic shadows relentlessly attacked the defensive barrier. Their sharp cries pierced the air, and each impact brought waves of shock, causing the already riddled earth barrier, which was painstakingly repaired by the gentle magic net woven by Lucia, to frequently flicker with cracks.

Lucia's forehead was slightly sweaty, and her hands trembled as she repeatedly chanted incantations, using her last strength to dispel the decaying gloom.

But faced with a massive and relentlessly attacking enemy force, she clearly felt overwhelmed and could only keep reactivating the remaining runes to repair the broken protective layer...

Cynthia gripped her sword hilt tightly, her silver-blue cloak billowing wildly in rhythm with the battle. She opened her cold, icy purple eyes, like sharp blades of ice, and stared at wave after wave of shadow worms about to break through the defenses.

With a single swing of the sword, the emerging tentacles were shattered into pieces;

Another sword danced and whistled through the void, buying his allies a brief respite.

Even so, this seemingly impregnable line of defense has crumbled in many places, and the perilous situation has everyone holding their breath, waiting for the next sudden change...

Hill stood before the collapsed city gate, his silver armor scarred but still upright and resolute.

"This is our last line of defense," he said in a low voice. "We must not let the enemy cross even a single step!"

Before the words were finished, a powerful shockwave struck, and a large number of howling demonic shadows instantly surrounded them. Their companions brandished their weapons to fight back, but they could not withstand the overwhelming numerical advantage.

A stench of blood mingled with the smoke of gunpowder, filling the air and making it almost freeze. Some people screamed and collapsed in the crowd, some held on until the very last moment, and others prayed silently for their lives to continue, tears welling in their eyes...

David stood in the center of the altar, his whole body enveloped in scorching, chaotic flames that danced like living things, yet his eyes shone with a calm and resolute light.

He gripped the halberd across his chest with both hands. It was a sharp blade forged from fragments of the Great War God's authority, the key to turning the tide and protecting the last hope of the Corridor of the End.

With a deep, cold roar, the power of chaos and order within his body intertwined and merged, and a crimson-gold halo quietly formed, slowly rising above the altar, as dazzling and brilliant as a burning star.

This is the "War Ring" that he created by harnessing the power of his war authority.

The War Star Ring was surrounded by furnace-like scorching flames and battle runes. Each rune contained ancient war laws, and its power fluctuations distorted and deformed the space between heaven and earth.

The blazing light, like the radiance of the sun, dispelled the surrounding gloom and decay, infusing the guardians with fearless courage and boundless energy.

Just then, a black, ghostly shadow slowly rose from beside the altar. It was the soul of the sorcerer, a remnant of his will awakened after being sealed by his old war armor and his ancient bloodline was revived.

Clad in crimson-gold armor, which gleamed under the blazing sun, they infused every cell of their bodies with mysterious and ancient power.

(End of this chapter)