The Witcher: The Journey to Transcendence from Marvel...

Appearance in Chapter 536

Each swing generates a strong gust of wind, causing the surrounding air to whoosh and whistle sharply.

An angel brandished a longsword burning with golden flames, its blade blazing with intense light, and brought it down fiercely on David's head.

David's eyes sharpened as he keenly sensed the danger. He swiftly dodged to the side, his movements as agile as a cheetah, easily avoiding the fierce attack.

At the same time, he swung the Black Death Sword in his hand, and a black sword aura shot out like a black ribbon, instantly severing the angel's arm.

The angel let out a painful scream, and golden blood gushed from its severed arm like a fountain.

Without pausing, David seized the opportunity when the angels' formation was briefly disrupted due to the injury of their comrade, and his figure moved like a ghost through the angels.

Under his control, the Black Death Sword was like the Grim Reaper's scythe, constantly reaping the lives of angels.

In an instant, the angels' bodies fell like withered flowers, and golden blood sprayed everywhere like a fountain, turning the originally snow-white ground into a shocking golden color.

David stomped heavily on a fallen, pristine white wing. The feathers on the wing were soaked with golden blood, looking disheveled and losing their original holiness and beauty.

His face was also splattered with the golden blood of angels, which slowly slid down his cheeks and dripped onto his clothes, staining them with golden spots.

"So you can die too."

David had always thought that angels were high above, invincible beings, symbols of holiness and justice. But now, watching these creatures he once regarded as sacred fall one after another under his sword, his awe of the so-called gods and heaven had long since vanished.

At this moment, the fire of hatred in his heart burned even more fiercely, like a raging inferno that could not be extinguished.

A pair of black wings suddenly grew from David's back, formed from a thick, almost tangible dark magic.

David felt a powerful thrust from behind, so strong that it made him fly rapidly toward the sky island.

During the flight, the gale howled across his face like a ferocious beast, making his hair and clothes flutter, but he gripped the Black Death Sword tightly in his hand, his knuckles turning slightly white from the force.

After David left, Wes and Mephisto appeared quietly.

Mephisto was so excited he was like a madman, waving his arms and legs, his face beaming with an almost manic smile.

"This is truly the most wonderful show I've ever seen in my life."

He spoke excitedly, rubbing his hands together incessantly, his eyes gleaming with schadenfreude.

For him, the prospect of Heaven, a place he had long considered his mortal enemy, facing a great disaster and trouble filled him with an irrepressible sense of pleasure.

Wes completely ignored Mephisto's excitement and began collecting the blood of the angels on earth.

Meanwhile, Mephisto opened his gaping maw, his appearance ferocious and terrifying, and swallowed the corpses of angels without hesitation.

With each corpse he swallowed, his body would swell slightly.

"boom!!"

A deafening roar suddenly shattered the peaceful atmosphere.

An empty island began to shake violently without warning, as if a strong earthquake had occurred.

On the floating island, David is caught in an incredibly fierce battle.

He relentlessly brandished the Black Death Sword in his hand, its blade gleaming with a cold, icy light, as he engaged in a fierce battle with the angels guarding the island.

During the battle, David gradually became familiar with the characteristics of the Black Death Sword, and its powerful strength began to slowly emerge.

Each swing unleashed a black sword aura that could tear through space, leaving the angels nowhere to hide.

The angel struck by the sword energy vanished instantly, as if it had never existed.

David's eyes were no longer filled with confusion and fear, but instead with determination and resolve.

The Black Death Sword in his hand might be the key to changing everything, and in this thrilling battle, he will completely rewrite his destiny, making those once high and mighty, arrogant gods pay a heavy price for their deeds.

In this dreamlike paradise, yet ravaged by the ruthless flames of war, the melodious music, like a gentle breeze, rises once more.

This melody is ethereal and sacred, possessing a transcendent power that can penetrate the deepest part of every soul and touch the softest part of people's hearts.

Accompanied by this beautiful music, a six-winged, four-headed seraphim slowly emerged from nothingness.

His six wings were as white as snow, radiating a soft yet dazzling light. Each gentle flap brought a sacred breeze, which seemed to carry a faint floral fragrance, making people feel relaxed and comfortable.

His four heads each displayed a different solemn face, their expressions dignified and sacred, their mouths singing in unison the majesty of God. The voices were grand and awe-inspiring, echoing throughout the entire heavenly space like a resounding bell, as if to let all things in the world know the greatness of God.

Immediately afterwards, the four monarchs Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, and Uriel appeared in everyone's sight.

Michael was clad in gleaming golden armor, which seemed to be woven from the finest gold thread and shone brightly in the sunlight.

Gabriel holds an exquisite horn, his face gentle yet dignified, as if he were a messenger of God, ready to sound the horn at any moment and convey God's will.

His eyes revealed a sense of tranquility and peace, which made people feel extremely at ease.

Raphael was surrounded by a warm and healing light, like the spring sunshine, gentle yet full of life.

With a gentle wave of his scepter, he could dispel the pain and suffering of the world and give people hope and strength.

Uriel, on the other hand, had a piercing gaze, his eyes revealing a steadfast sense of justice.

Surrounded and protected by the four monarchs, the figure of God slowly appeared.

He radiated a divine radiance that defied description, a light that was gentle yet contained boundless power, as if it were the primordial power of the universe.

When people look up at him, a deep sense of awe arises in their hearts, as if they are so small and insignificant in the face of this sacred being.

Around God, a group of little angels surrounded him, holding various exquisite musical instruments such as harps and flutes.

Music flowed gently from their fingertips, music that seemed to possess a magical power to cleanse people's souls and expose all the evil and filth in the world.

Heaven, which had been in chaos and devastation due to the fierce battle between David and the angels, now seemed to have regained its former tranquility and solemnity under this sacred scene, as if all the strife had never happened.

(End of this chapter)