Divine Apostasy Book 11 - Chapter 50

Chapter 50

Ruin had created this portal so that his friends in the alchemy camp could easily return home. That’s why he placed it just outside the crystal forest surrounding the Shattered Sun dungeon and a thousand feet from Bliz’s bar, Pour Judgement. Calf-high grass bent in the cold wind flowing off the mountains behind New Eiru. Despite the reception, it felt nice to see home again.

“Lir, it’s Ruwen!”

Ruin could feel the power gathering around the guardians. He’d need to defend himself soon, so he spun his Apocalypse Destruction Core up to a velocity of one thousand. His Saraph body yearned to fight these puny creatures daring to confront him.

“Lir, listen, things went sideways and I’m stuck in this body!”

The guardians had formed into a practiced formation, surrounding Ruin. Lir wasn’t taking chances; most of the defenders were over level fifty, and a significant amount had passed level seventy-five. His skin itched from the amount of overlapping buffs the Order Class Enforcers generated. He wished he could see this with Harmony—the concentrated energy would certainly be beautiful.

A woman strode toward Ruin. She wore white plate armor that gave her the appearance of being sculpted from marble. Her short brown hair covered the tops of her ears, her delicate features a stark contrast to the obvious martial training her stance suggested. She held her full helm under one arm and her other hand rested on the hilt of her sheathed long sword. A large shield was strapped to her back. Her Charisma, either natural or a result of Class choices, was high enough for him to notice. She exuded trust, calm, and beauty.

Ruin Identified her.

Name: Cyrilla Mintshull

Realm: Material 

Type: Mana Dependent 

Race: Human 

Tower: Not Available

Estimated Power: Tier 2 Level 4 

Armor Class: 1,400

Health: 6,500

Mana: 2,100

Class: Order

Level: 92

Sub Class: Judge

Specialization: Righteous Assessor

Dual Class: Order

Level: 51

Dual Sub Class: Enforcer

Dual Specialization: Holy Fortress

Deity: Ruwen Starfield 

Might: Medium

Durability: High 

Support: High 

Strengths: Defense, Self-Healing, Area Buffs, Charisma

Weaknesses: Harmonics, Soul Power, Concentrated Aura, Destruction Essence

Disposition: Neutral 

Multiple pieces of information distracted Ruin. First she was neutral, not hostile, despite the seven plus foot entity of Destruction standing in front of her. She had doubled up her Class choices by keeping both in Order. He still disliked having people worship him as their deity, but it was a fact he needed to accept.

“Righteous Assessor?” Ruin blurted. “Holy Fortress? Those must be new Specializations. They sound so much better than the old ones.” He looked into the sky and shouted. “Good job on the names, Lir!”

Cyrilla stopped, Ruin’s outburst giving her pause.

I assume you had a hand in that? Ruin asked Overlord.

Sure did. Lir let people convert directly into the new ones if they wanted. You want us out there?

Not yet. I can only create Destruction Minions and they’ll be much weaker here in the Material Realm even with Uruziel’s enhancements.

Cyrilla gave Ruin a nod and spoke in a clear voice. “Stranger of the Shadow Realm, you tread upon the lands of Uru. I am Cyrilla, the Assessor and Judge assigned to this region. Those before you are sworn by blade and blood to preserve order and protect our people. Your arrival was unexpected, and such an unannounced entry raises questions of intent.”

Cyrilla’s posture turned stiffer, more official, and she locked eyes with Ruin as she continued. “By the authority vested in me by the Third Temple, I command you to state your name, purpose, and allegiance. Should you harbor peace, you may find safe passage through our lands. But mark my words: if you intend to sow chaos, harm our citizens, or act deceitful, justice will descend swiftly. Your shadows will not save you. Speak now the truth and let us determine the course of this day.”

Ruin grinned, which he realized too late might not look friendly coming from a seven-foot Saraph. “That was fantastic. Did you come up with that? Or do all the Assessors make that speech? Can you really cut off access to the Shadow Realm?”

Cyrilla frowned and Ruin knew her truth-based magic informed her he’d spoken honestly with no ill intent.

Ruin looked into the sky. The Third Temple still floated high in the air as Lir had kept the country on a war footing. Ruin shouted again. “Come on, Lir. Don’t make me come up there.”

A beam of multicolored light shot directly at Ruin from the Temple, and only his Arcangel reflexes saved him from getting hit.

“Stop that,” Ruin shouted. “I don’t have Harmony to protect myself. That’s actually dangerous.”

Lir knew human Ruwen as well as anyone, including his abilities. Lir would logically reason that such a powerful attack constructed of densely packed light would easily be dispersed with Ruwen’s Harmony abilities. Cyrilla on the other hand didn’t know this was just a test and thought the Temple had judged Ruin as guilty or dangerous.

Cyrilla slammed her helmet on and her whole team attacked Ruin.

Hang tight, Ruin told Overlord. I’ll try and handle this myself. I don’t want any accidental deaths or serious injuries.

Ruin increased his Core Velocity to three thousand and the pressure inside his chest increased.

Without Harmony Ruin couldn’t just dissipate the oncoming magical attacks. He needed to deflect or absorb them.

Ruin’s Destruction based magic wasn’t as durable or potent in the Material Realm, but that hardly mattered. The hardest part of fighting these defenders was avoiding killing them.

The defenders closed in from every direction. They formed groups, shields locked together, with chanting mages behind them, and archers nocking arrows in the distance. The air hummed, saturated with magic.

Another streak of light shot from the temple, slicing through the air toward Ruin. He sidestepped, the beam turning the stone where he’d stood to dust and boring a twenty-foot hole in the ground.

Ruin extended his hands. Destruction essence coiled around his fingers, forming orbs of devastating power. He flicked his wrists, and the orbs shot out, striking the ground ahead of the advancing guardians. The dirt and stone shattered into jagged chunks, pushing the closest team back without harming anyone.

“Stone anvil!” Cyrilla shouted. “Formation three!”

The other groups adjusted their ranks, shifting to compensate for the delayed team. Mage attacks struck Ruin, creating craters around him or dissolving his skin if they made contact. The power bursting from his Core mended the damage just as fast as it occurred. Someone conjured a bridge to cover the whole he’d made, impressing him with their reaction time.

Another ray from the Third temple lanced downward.

Ruin rolled to the side, the heat grazing his shoulder. He clenched his fists, channeling destruction magic into the air around him. With a sharp motion, he released it.

A shockwave rippled outward, distorting the air and slamming into the defenders. Shields rattled, weapons clattered to the ground, and the front line fell to their knees, disoriented but unharmed.

Ruin leaped to avoid another beam from the Temple.

“Do that one more time, Lir, and you’ll regret it,” Ruin shouted.

Summoning a swirling vortex of black energy in his palm, he waved his hand in a circle above his head. A vortex of shadowy fog expanded outward engulfing the distant archers in a cloud of harmless darkness that obscured their vision and rendered them useless.

Barrier spells, roots, and stuns struck Ruin in constant waves causing the air around him to glow. He narrowed his eyes and thrust his hands downward. Tendrils of destructive magic surged through the ground; a moment later a forest of black trees surrounded the guardians, each covered in razor sharp thorns. The defenders stalled as they focused on avoiding the trees rather than advancing.

Cyrilla had made it close enough to attack and she struck at Ruin with her longsword, her shield held up to deflect any counterattack.

Ruin caught the blade with his right hand. A burst of Destruction essence traveled down the blade, dissolving it and leaving the Assessor holding just a hilt.

Ruin sensed the gathering of energy in the Temple above, warning him of an impending attack.

“I warned you,” Ruin said flatly.

Ruin clenched his hand, compressing the Destruction essence he’d summoned. He opened his fist to reveal a flawless black gem.

As the Temple fired its light beam, Ruin shaped the air in front of him into a concave dish, making it millions of times denser than normal. With his other hand he held out the black gem.

The ray struck the compressed air and bounced around the dish until it struck the focal point and reflected outward, directly into the gem Ruin had created. The gem concentrated the light further and a finger-sized black ray vaporized the air as it arced into the sky.

Black smoke rose from the temple where an obvious hole appeared.

“Try it again,” Ruin shouted. “I’ll punch back so hard you’ll use contractions for a week.”