Chapter 91: The Night King Unsealed! The Eternal Night Army Awakens!

The mural before Rhodes depicted a grand, almost divine artistry, with strong overtones of ecclesiastical reverence. Each scene glorified the gods as paragons of virtue and vilified demons as pure evil. The gods were exalted to unreachable heights, their praises woven into every stroke of paint.

Anyone could guess which church this masterpiece represented—it screamed the authority of the divine. But who could say what truly transpired in history?

"The victors write the annals; the vanquished are merely shadows of disgrace," Rhodes mused, his voice low.

With deliberate precision, he inserted the key into the central emblem embedded within the mural. As it clicked into place, an intricate web of cracks spidered across the surface, until the mural crumbled to reveal a gaping cave.

Darkness loomed inside—thick, impenetrable, suffocating.

Rhodes extended his hand, summoning a sphere of radiant sunfire that streaked forward, flooding the cave with light.

A long, foreboding corridor stretched out before him, lined with an army frozen in time. The soldiers stood rigid on either side, their ice-blue skin akin to frost-covered corpses. Each wore crystalline armor that gleamed coldly in the light.

These soldiers were no ordinary warriors. Their bodies bore countless scars—etched evidence of the brutal battles they had endured. Their blood-red eyes shimmered with eternal hatred, unyielding and bitter.

This was the Eternal Night Legion—a name that once incited fear across the entire world.

Yet time had eroded memory. Few today remembered the atrocities wrought by this force.

"Eternal Night Army!" Atlante, walking a few paces behind, gasped. A shadow of fear clouded her eyes—a rare vulnerability from someone of her stature.

Atlante was from an era where this name was whispered with dread. She knew what it meant.

Immortality. Invincibility.

The Eternal Night Army's advance was a curse etched into the very fabric of history. Their campaign had shattered empires. The Orc Kingdom collapsed under their advance, and the Elven Dynasty was no more. Yet amidst the chaos, humanity seized an opportunity. It was the horrors of the Eternal Night Army that inadvertently paved the way for mankind's ascension.

Now, the legion lay entombed, frozen beneath the Arctic Abyss, each warrior encased in layers of frost. Their monstrous forms were haunting, grotesque yet dormant, like feral beasts imprisoned mid-slumber.

Rhodes advanced. The corridor seemed endless, each step taking him deeper into the icy abyss. The legions' numbers dwindled as he progressed, but the further he went, the more extraordinary the beings he encountered.

There were giants, trolls, dragons, and even demigods, their auras pulsating with terrifying intensity. Every frozen figure emanated a presence that could suppress lesser beings by sheer existence alone.

"Legends, sanctuaries, demigods…" Rhodes whispered, taking stock of their power with a detached curiosity. To Atlante, the deeper they went, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. These weren't ordinary soldiers—they were commanders, generals, beings of unimaginable might.

If all of them awoke at once, even the gods might tremble.

Yet Rhodes showed no sign of concern. He strode forward with the ease of someone taking a morning stroll, his indifference cutting through Atlante's rising anxiety.

"Master, are you sure about this?" Atlante asked, her voice trembling.

Rhodes merely smirked in response.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they arrived at the end of the corridor. Before them stood a colossal throne carved from what seemed to be ice and steel, its sharp spikes protruding like jagged fangs. Wings of metal stretched out behind it, casting long shadows on the frozen ground.

Upon the throne sat a figure.

The creature's form was human-like, but its skin glistened like frost. A mane of ice-white hair draped over its broad shoulders, and a suit of armor—etched with ghostly blue flames—encased its towering frame. In its grasp rested a colossal sword radiating an aura of death.

Even in slumber, the Night King exuded an oppressive presence. His blue eyes, half-shut, glimmered faintly, as if holding an entire world frozen in an eternal winter.

Rhodes halted, gazing up at the ancient being.

"So, this is the infamous Night King," he muttered, his voice tinged with amusement.

Atlanche stiffened. "Master, please… We should leave."

"Leave?" Rhodes chuckled. "Not before I wake him up."

His words were casual, but Atlante's heart dropped.

"What are you doing?!" she exclaimed, her voice breaking.

Rhodes extended his hand, gathering a stream of aurora-like energy at his fingertips. He thrust it forward without hesitation. The energy struck the Night King's chest, piercing through the thick ice.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then the seal began to fracture.

Chains of divine power, forged by gods, exploded one by one as the Night King's suppressed strength surged forth.

"The gods…" A voice, deep and resonant, echoed through the abyss.

The Night King stirred. His icy blue eyes opened fully, glinting with malevolence.

"They dared…" he growled, his words filled with venom. "They dared to seal me. They will pay for their arrogance."

He rose, his towering frame stretching towards the cavern ceiling, his aura growing heavier with each movement. Rhodes watched with unbridled fascination.

"Do you feel it?" The Night King's voice carried both pride and malice. "My power is boundless. I am eternal. And now, mortal, I grant you the chance to bow before me. Serve me, and I shall grant you dominion over your kin when eternal night claims this world."

Rhodes laughed, the sound sharp and mocking. "Bow? To you?"

The Night King frowned. "Do you not understand who stands before you?"

"I understand perfectly," Rhodes said, his tone laced with disdain. "You're just another relic trying to cling to relevance. And if you think you can control me, you've made a grave mistake."

Without warning, he struck.

Power radiated from Rhodes like a blazing sun, meeting the Night King's frost in a battle that shook the abyss itself. Atlante watched in stunned silence as the two forces collided, reshaping the frozen cavern with every blow.

The Night King, once a terror to gods, now found himself cornered. His arrogance faltered under Rhodes' overwhelming might.

"This… This cannot be!" the Night King roared, his body pinned against the ice, blood seeping from countless wounds.

Rhodes loomed over him, his eyes cold and unyielding.

"Eternal Night?" he scoffed. "You should have stayed asleep."

The battle wasn't close—it was a massacre.

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