Chapter 691 Glyphfire Storm

Dusk swallowed the sky, an ode with dark red clouds, as if the world knew another storm was coming. Above the ruins of Sanctuary Plum Blossom, the Earth forces moved in tight formation, carrying large magic cannons adorned with glyphs: Glyphfire Cannons—destructive weapons specifically designed to burn, penetrate, and erase all forms of ancient protective magic. Among the crowd of soldiers, faces were filled with tension and uncertainty; some were young recruits who had just joined this battle, holding swords almost larger than themselves.

King Ardaius watched from a distance, his eyes sharp and restless. With fingers glinting under the dimming sunlight, he twisted a gem-studded ring, a symbol of his power that now felt like a burden. Beside him, General Kestral and Fitran discussed with battle mages, their voices mingling with the hissing of dark magic. Kestral, with curly hair shining like metal in the light, planned the steps that before nightfall, the Sanctuary must be defended at all costs. Below ground, Joanna and the angels were busy evacuating the remaining people—children, guardians, and mothers half-conscious from trauma. In this framework of darkness, Joanna's gentle voice reminded them to stay calm, while the holy light from the angels' wings shimmered with hope. Iris, weak yet resolute, sat among them, occasionally glancing at the sky through the cracks in the stones. She knew that in the final moments, hope could emerge from the deepest void.

The warning came too late. The sound of magic sirens echoed throughout the Sanctuary's underground corridors. As flashes of light erupted from the cannons, Iris's heart raced; she felt the urge to protect those around her, and her inner voice screamed for them all to be safe.

"GLYPHFIRE! EVERYONE TAKE COVER!"

In an instant, the sky ignited. Dozens of glyphfire projectiles were launched from various points around the city and the plains of Oda. The projectiles danced in the air, exploding into bursts of blue flames that not only burned but also unraveled every protective spell into dust. Ancient stones melted, the spiral carvings of Oda passed down from ancestors turned black, and the air filled with the scent of hot metal and blood. A sense of despair enveloped the souls witnessing this horror, many silently praying for help that would not come.

Joanna, standing at the forefront, opened Michael's wings of fire—a wall of light and heat that held the glyphfire from directly penetrating the people she protected. "We will not fall!" Joanna shouted, her voice piercing through the thundering and screaming, igniting the spirits of the frightened. Yet, behind her steadfast demeanor, her heart was filled with doubt. She had never imagined facing darkness this deep. But the power of glyphfire was overwhelming. Some surviving guardians tried to strengthen the barrier, but one by one they fell, their bodies charred in the blaze of glyphfire. Joanna felt every pain born from the sacrifice of her friends, burning the emptiness within her soul.

Zadkiel and two other angels called upon sky spells, creating shields of water and wind, but the glyphfire thrown by Fitran from above pierced through every layer of protection. The walls of the Sanctuary began to crumble, bringing dust and the cries of the people seeking an escape. In this panic, Zadkiel felt not only as a protector but also as a brother. He remembered the hopeful faces of those he had to protect, and that courage strengthened the spell he recited. Each verse was filled with the souls that continued to fight.

In the midst of the chaos, a remaining guardian—Eiko, a young girl from the Oda family—betrayed Joanna and the others. Caught between her deep fear and fading hope, Eiko felt trapped in a labyrinth of decisions. She opened a secret passage that had been hidden from the angels, hoping the Earth forces would grant her amnesty and a new life. As she ran through the dark corridor, she turned to see the faces of her struggling friends, guilt beginning to churn in her heart.

However, as the passage opened, the Earth automatons surged in, burning the corridor and eliminating anyone they encountered. Eiko barely had time to scream once before the glyphfire consumed her body—a futile betrayal, like the world's vengeance on its last traitor. In her final moments, Eiko's face was filled with doubt and regret, realizing that her hope for forgiveness was merely an illusion.

Joanna knew their time was running out. With a heavy voice, she gathered the angels and the people at the ancient altar that still stood intact. The rumble of the Earth automatons shattered the silence, and fear haunted her eyes. Within her, there was a profound sense of responsibility to protect her loved ones, making her even more determined to face whatever came.

"This is the final limit. There is no more refuge. If we endure, we endure together. If we must die, let the world know that this last fire is not a fire of destruction, but a fire of forgiveness and courage." Behind her, the angels looked at her with hope and uncertainty, waiting to hear her next words.

She ignited the sacrifice glyph on the altar floor—the glyph passed down from Michael, a fire spell that burned sins, not just bodies. Joanna called upon Michael's power fully; her body was surrounded by a circle of gold-red flames, her eyes shining bright. For a moment, she felt connected to all the souls that had ever fought against the darkness, as if their strength flowed into her as a bearer of hope.

The glyphfire from Earth crashed against the altar's walls, but this time it halted, as if Michael's fire consumed every burst of destruction. Joanna stood in front of Iris and the people, her body nearly destroyed, but the light from within did not extinguish. The image of her mother flashed in her mind—all the sacrifices made for this battle, and she knew she was not alone in her struggle.

"If you want to pass us," she cried out to the Earth forces that began to advance toward the altar, "pass over my name. Pass over the sacrifice of every soul that has fallen. Pass over the history you buried with your hatred." Her voice was strong and full of determination, as if inviting everyone around her to rise against the darkness that sought to destroy them.

Fitran, the exorcist, led the Earth forces toward the altar, bringing the final destruction glyph. He looked at Joanna with a gaze full of hatred and doubt, his struggles from the past flashing in his memory—a moment when he still believed in miracles. His heart battled between hatred and longing for a better time when peace could be achieved.

"There are no more miracles, Joanna. This world belongs to us now," he shouted with certainty, but the voice trembled slightly, as if fighting against the shadow of doubt lurking in the corners of his feelings.

Joanna only smiled bitterly, her smile containing the depth of wounds and hope. "Even the world cannot rewrite courage," she added, her voice soft yet echoing as if challenging the darkness surrounding them.

The battle at the final altar erupted in flames and light. Angels fell one by one; civilians fled to the back corridors. Iris, though weak, prayed silently—not for her own safety, but for Joanna and those still standing in the line of protectors, envisioning their cheerful smiles before the storm approached.

Fitran plunged the destruction glyph into the altar floor, his hand trembling slightly, memories of the past making him hesitate. An explosion of glyphfire occurred, destroying the top of the altar, yet Joanna remained standing, Michael's wings of fire spread wide, holding back the final wave of destruction. She clenched her fists, channeling the strength from all those she had ever protected.

Seconds that felt like eternity passed, the world paused between life and death, each moment counted by a racing heart and breath held between hope and bitter reality.

When the explosion ended, only dust and orange light remained. Joanna, her body nearly burned away, embraced Iris, holding back tears amidst the rubble and death, her voice trembling as she whispered, "We can still fight." She rekindled the hope that had almost dimmed in the light of her eyes.

"Forgive me, Mother. I was not strong enough to protect them all. But I choose to stand—until Michael's name is no longer whispered as a curse, but as a promise," Joanna said with a voice full of determination, that voice defying the flames that burned her soul.

The Sanctuary Plum Blossom truly collapsed that night. From a distance, blue flames and orange light illuminated the night. The Earth forces finally took control of all the corridors, but the names of Joanna, Iris, and the surviving protectors filled the folklore spread through whispers—about the night when glyphfire burned everything, but courage held everything until the end. Amidst the chaos, Iris remembered her mother's gentle voice, reminding her that true courage is not just about fighting, but also about enduring through pain. Hoping that all that had been lost would always live on in her memories.

The world turned into a sea of rubble and fire, but from the ashes, the promise of new life slowly grew, waiting for the time to rise again—in a world without the old magic, but with names that history would not easily forget. In the silence of that chaotic night, a small child whispered a prayer, hoping that the souls of the fallen warriors would find peace, and that a new light could illuminate the path filled with darkness. This new strength, though rooted in sorrow, would bring hope for future generations.