Chapter 38: The arrival 

Chapter 38: The arrival 

The heavens trembled, and the earth shuddered.

The battlefield, which had moments ago been a cacophony of screams, steel, and fire, fell into absolute silence. A divine presence had descended upon the war-torn land. The sky above the Imperial Capital split open, golden and ethereal light spilling from the rift like liquid divinity. The radiance was overwhelming—neither blinding nor scorching, but imposing, as if the very fabric of reality bent to its arrival.

Jason stood at the center of this phenomenon, his figure glowing with an authority no mortal should possess.

The ground cracked beneath his feet, unable to bear the weight of his presence. The sheer pressure exuding from him forced even the mightiest warriors and generals—friend and foe alike—to their knees. None could resist. Even those who had been chanting in fervent devotion to the Creator found their bodies instinctively bowing, betraying their supposed faith.

Fear. Awe. Reverence.

The Holy Crusaders, who had slaughtered their way through the Imperial Capital, now trembled not in arrogance, but in absolute terror.

The Commander General of the Holy Crusade, a battle-hardened veteran who had led countless campaigns in the name of the Creator, felt his very soul waver. His instincts screamed at him—we have committed an unforgivable sin.

He clenched his fists, his breath shallow.

This… This being…

Even the newly ascended Pope, the most powerful figure in the Church of the Sun, would be nothing before the being that stood before them.

For the first time, he understood.

"We must surrender."

He tried to speak, to issue the command, but before the words could leave his lips, a man in elaborate crimson robes—a symbol of the highest Inquisition authority—rose to his feet.

It was the Head Inquisitor, the most fanatical of the Creator's disciples.

His eyes burned with fanatic hatred, his expression twisted in absolute denial.

"No… NO!" His voice was a mix of rage and disbelief, his breathing erratic. "This cannot be! There is no being in existence that stands equal to the Creator! What blasphemy! I must—no, we must—eliminate this thing from the mortal realm!"

The Commander General's eyes widened in horror.

"Head Inquisitor, what are you—?!"

Before he could intervene, the Head Inquisitor's divine aura erupted, his entire body igniting with crimson holy fire. His voice, fueled by raw zealotry, rang across the battlefield like a prophet delivering judgment.

"All Inquisitors! Eliminate this abomination! Even if it costs your pathetic lives!"

A monstrous, deafening chant erupted from the 800 surviving inquisitors, their eyes glowing red, their minds consumed by madness.

"Yes! We shall give our lives to the Holy Creator!"

Their combined voices roared through the air as divine scripture manifested around them, illuminating their forms in sacred, yet terrifying radiance.

Then—

They attacked.

800 Inquisitors vs. One Supreme Being

The sky turned crimson, the sacred hymns of the Church of the Sun intertwining into a single, destructive invocation. They raised their hands, golden sigils forming in the air, rotating like celestial gears. Holy scripture materialized, floating above them in circles of divine light.

The air vibrated as Holy Cleansing—Absolute Wrath of the Creator was invoked.

A pillar of holy flames, wide enough to engulf an entire continent, formed in the heavens.

The Commander General, seeing this, fell to his knees, gripping his head.

"This… This power… it will obliterate everything!"

The Holy Crusaders felt pride—they would purge the heretic.

The Imperial defenders felt dread—nothing could withstand such an attack.

The Head Inquisitor grinned. "Die, filth."

The sky exploded.

A colossal holy beam, crimson and gold, descended from the heavens, obliterating the ground beneath it. The very air ignited, the battlefield warping under the pressure of divine destruction.

The attack struck Jason head-on.

The impact shattered the landscape, sending shockwaves across the city. The explosion sent debris and dust thousands of meters into the air, obscuring the battlefield in a blinding storm of holy fire.

The Holy Crusaders cheered.

The Imperial soldiers fell into despair.

The Head Inquisitor laughed.

"Blasphemy cannot stand against the will of the Creator! You are nothing before His might!" He roared in triumphant arrogance.

Then—

The dust cleared.

A single figure stood unscathed.

The Supreme Power Revealed

Jason smiled.

Not a smirk of arrogance, nor of mockery.

A calm, knowing smile.

He raised his right hand.

A blade of golden light materialized in his grip.

"Are you done?" His voice was steady, unwavering.

The Head Inquisitor's laughter stopped.

His eyes widened in absolute horror.

"Impossible…" he whispered, stepping back. "That should have… you should have…!"

Jason stepped forward.

"You wanted a battle of gods?" His voice carried not wrath, but absolute authority.

"Then let me show you why you were never meant to win."

He raised his sword.

A brilliant light, pure and divine, exploded from its blade.

He did not chant.

He did not call upon scriptures.

He simply willed it.

A single golden slash surged toward the enemy, cutting through time and space itself.

The Head Inquisitor panicked.

"DEFEND! HOLY DEFENSE—!"

His words never finished.

The golden wave passed through them, disintegrating the entire Inquisition force.

800 bodies—reduced to nothing.

The battlefield was silent.

The Commander General, the once-proud leader of the Holy Crusaders, fell to his knees, his hands trembling.

He knew.

They had lost.

Jason's golden eyes met his.

"Do you want to continue this war?" His words were not a threat.

They were a simple statement of truth.

The Commander General lowered his head, shame and fear gripping his heart.

"No. We… surrender."

The surviving 500,000 Crusaders—the army that had massacred their way through the Empire—dropped their weapons.

That day would forever be remembered.

The Sunset of the Church of the Sun.

The battlefield was eerily silent, the once-proud Holy Crusade now kneeling before a single man.

The Crown Prince, bloodied and wounded, stood watching.

He had spent his entire life believing in his own superiority.

Yet today, he realized his insignificance.

He clenched his fists, staring at Jason—the brother he had cast aside.

"Was this… the power of the Supreme?"

Jason turned, his golden glow fading, his presence returning to mortal limits.

The battle was over.

But the war was far from finished.

With the Church of the Sun crushed, and their allies now vulnerable, Jason turned his gaze west.

The sources of all this war The Magul Empire, the Eastern Alliance, and the Southern Rebels—all still stand against the Empire.

The real war was about to begin.

But first—

He turned to the surviving Holy Crusaders.

"You made a mistake following the wrong god." His voice was calm. "And now, you will pay the price."

The surrendered army felt their hearts tighten.

The Jason's reckoning had only just begun.

(Continue…,.)