Chapter 93 – Midnight Chaos

The Halochassis had been hovering around Cathedral Exa for hours, their enormous silhouettes suspended in the night sky like an army of metallic stars. Their armored bodies reflected the pale moonlight, while the faint glow of their mana reactors painted the surrounding rooftops with eerie shades of blue, red, and gold. Every now and then, the mechanical hum of their propulsion systems rumbled through the air, but otherwise, the night remained strangely quiet. Even the royal guards stationed along the cathedral's perimeter had begun to grow weary. Some shifted their weight from one foot to another, while others suppressed their yawns behind their gauntlets. A few could barely keep their eyes open, their fingers tightening around their weapons whenever they caught themselves nodding off. The starry skies above them looked vibrant and beautiful, with countless points of light scattered across the heavens. However, those stars were not celestial bodies. They were the Halochassis, patiently waiting for the signal to begin their assault.

Below them, a tense standoff continued between the Empyrean army and the gathered adventurers. Rows of royal guards stood shoulder to shoulder, their polished armor gleaming beneath the moonlight as they maintained their defensive formation around the cathedral. Across from them, the adventurers occupied the surrounding streets and open spaces, refusing to retreat despite being heavily outnumbered. The scent of sweat, leather, and cold metal hung in the air, mixing with the faint smell of incense drifting from Cathedral Exa. So far, neither side had suffered any casualties, and there had been no direct attacks. Yet the absence of bloodshed did little to ease the tension. Every soldier knew that the fragile peace could shatter at any moment.

The adventurers tightened their grips on their weapons. Swordsmen rested their thumbs against the guards of their blades, ready to draw at the slightest provocation. Mages clutched their spellbooks and wands, their fingers occasionally twitching as they prepared their incantations. Archers kept their bows raised, with arrows resting against their strings and pointed toward the opposing formation. Some adventurers swallowed nervously, while others tried to hide their trembling hands by adjusting their equipment. The clinking of armor and the occasional creak of a bowstring were the only sounds that disturbed the silence.

Across the open ground, the Empyrean soldiers watched them with equal suspicion. Their expressions remained stern, but several guards glanced nervously at the Halochassis hovering overhead. They knew that the machines could unleash devastating firepower, and the thought of becoming their targets was enough to make even experienced soldiers uneasy. Nevertheless, their orders were clear. They had to hold their positions and prevent anyone from approaching the cathedral without authorization.

Both parties continued staring at each other, waiting for someone to make the first move. Neither side wanted to be the one responsible for starting a battle, but neither was willing to lower their weapons either. It was an absurdly delicate situation, one in which a single accidental movement could turn the entire area into a battlefield. A soldier could mistake an adventurer's attempt to adjust their grip for an attack. An archer could release an arrow out of fear. A mage could cast a spell before realizing that the person approaching them had no hostile intentions.

All it would take was one casualty.

Once the first person fell, the surviving members of either side would have an excuse to retaliate. The royal guards could claim that the adventurers had attacked them, while the adventurers could insist that the Empyrean army had drawn first blood. After that, no amount of explanation would matter. Steel would clash against steel, spells would tear through the streets, and the peaceful night would be drowned out by screams and explosions. Everyone present understood the danger, yet nobody dared to be the first to back down.

Inside the Azazel Halochassis, Shin Rebellium glanced at his heads-up display. The translucent numbers glowed against his vision, reflecting faintly across the inner surface of his helmet.

11:58 PM.

He watched the digits for a moment, listening to the steady hum of Azazel's internal systems. The armor's reactor pulsed with a low vibration that traveled through his body, while faint indicators flickered across the edges of his vision. His hands rested near the controls, ready to activate the next phase of their operation.

Only a few minutes remained before the deadline they had given Alexander Goldheart. The Chosen One had been ordered to surrender himself, and the Iron Bandits had made it clear that they would not wait forever. If Alexander refused to comply before midnight, they would proceed with their plan regardless of the consequences.

Shin exhaled slowly inside his helmet. The air circulated through the armor's ventilation system, carrying a faint metallic smell that had become familiar to him after so many battles. He had spent countless hours preparing for this moment, but even now, he could not completely silence the uneasiness gnawing at the back of his mind. The people gathered around Cathedral Exa were about to discover just how far the Iron Bandits were willing to go.

Before he could dwell on those thoughts any longer, a familiar figure approached him.

Zaqiel descended through the night sky, her fiery wings spreading behind her as she landed near Azazel. The flames flickered and crackled with every movement, casting a warm orange glow across the black and gold plates of Shin's armor. Her pink power armor gleamed beneath the light, its surface reflecting the burning feathers that drifted from her wings before dissolving into tiny sparks. The heat radiating from her equipment stirred the cool night air, and the faint scent of scorched mana lingered around her.

She stopped beside Azazel, staring at the towering black and gold Halochassis. For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. The surrounding adventurers and royal guards remained too preoccupied with their standoff to pay much attention to the two machines, although a few soldiers glanced in their direction when Zaqiel's fiery wings illuminated the nearby rooftops.

"Shin," Zaqiel muttered.

Her voice carried a mixture of concern and determination. She had wanted to say more, but the words seemed to catch in her throat. After everything that had happened between them, she was no longer certain how to approach him. The man standing inside that armor had once been her companion, someone she had trusted with her life. Yet he had also been the person who abandoned the Iron Bandits when they needed him most.

"Risha," Azazel replied.

Shin recognized the familiar voice immediately. He turned his armored head toward her, the mechanical joints producing a faint whir as the helmet's glowing eyes settled on her figure. For a moment, he simply observed her, noticing how firmly she stood and how her fiery wings remained spread behind her back.

"Are you sure that you're going to join us in this carnage?" he asked. "I remember Adzeel gave you an option."

He had not forgotten that Adzeel Schwarzer had allowed her to make her own decision. Risha could have stayed away from the operation and avoided getting caught in the inevitable bloodshed. Nobody would have blamed her for refusing to participate, especially after everything she had endured. She had already suffered enough because of the Iron Bandits, and there was no guarantee that she would survive what was about to happen.

Yet here she was, standing beside him with her weapons ready.

"I already made my choice, and my choice is to protect you," Risha answered without hesitation. Her voice was quiet, but the conviction behind her words was unmistakable. "I know that you will not abandon us."

The statement struck Shin harder than he expected. For a brief moment, he could hear nothing except the low hum of his armor and the distant rustling of the wind passing between the cathedral's towers.

He wanted to answer her. He wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that she should not place so much faith in someone like him. However, the words refused to come out.

He had abandoned them once before.

When he left the Iron Bandits, he had convinced himself that walking away was the best decision he could make. He had wanted to escape the violence, the guilt, and the unbearable weight of the responsibilities that came with being Azazel's wielder. Yet he had also known that his departure would leave his companions to deal with the consequences on their own.

And during his battle against Qinglong, he had been prepared to abandon Risha again. He had been willing to leave her behind while pursuing his own objective, even though he knew how much she had already sacrificed for him.

Now, standing before her, Shin could not pretend that those things had never happened. He had grown tired of making promises that he might not be able to keep. He had no right to assure her that he would never abandon them again when he could not even guarantee that he would survive the night.

So he remained silent.

The silence stretched between them, and Risha watched him through the glowing eyes of his armor. She seemed to understand that he was struggling to find an answer, but she did not press him for one. Instead, she stayed beside him, her fiery wings flickering against the darkness as though she intended to remain there regardless of what happened next.

However, beneath her calm expression, Risha harbored a far more troubling thought.

She had chosen to protect Shin because she loved him. That much was undeniable. Even if the entire world turned against him, she wanted to remain at his side. She wanted to be the person he could rely on when everything else fell apart, the one who would never turn her back on him when he was at his weakest.

But there was another woman who occupied a special place in Shin's heart.

Lireina Ashford.

The name alone was enough to make Risha's chest tighten. She had heard enough about the Untouchable Windwalker to understand the depth of Shin's feelings for her. Unlike Risha, Lireina had managed to reach a part of Shin that nobody else could touch. She had become someone he genuinely wanted to protect, someone whose happiness mattered to him more than he was willing to admit.

Risha hated that fact.

She hated the possibility that, even after everything she had done for Shin, she would always remain second to another woman. The thought stirred a bitter ache inside her, one that she had tried to suppress for far too long. She wanted Shin to look at her the way he looked at Lireina. She wanted to be the one standing beside him when the fighting ended, the one who could hold his hand without wondering whether he was thinking about someone else.

Her gaze drifted toward the distant streets surrounding Cathedral Exa. She searched the shadows and the rooftops, wondering whether the green-eyed princess would appear before the night was over.

If Lireina came here, Risha would have to make a choice.

And if that woman became an obstacle to the future Risha desired, she was no longer certain that she could let her walk away unharmed.

If Lireina dies, then Shin will be mine, Risha thought.

The thought was cold, even to her. Yet she did not allow it to show on her face. She kept her expression composed and her posture steady, hiding the jealousy burning inside her beneath the mask of a loyal companion. For now, she would protect Shin. Whatever happened after that would depend on whether Lireina decided to interfere.

Suddenly, a sharp electronic beep echoed through the night.

The sound came from every Halochassis hovering above Cathedral Exa, cutting through the silence with almost perfect synchronization. Their cockpit displays flickered as the same notification appeared across their HUDs. One by one, the machines' glowing eyes brightened, and their reactors began to emit a deeper, more powerful hum.

12:00 AM.

Midnight had arrived.

For a brief moment, the entire operation seemed to hang in suspended silence. The Empyrean soldiers continued watching the adventurers, unaware that the deadline had already passed. The adventurers remained tense, their weapons raised and their eyes fixed on the opposing army. Above them, the Halochassis waited for their command, their armored silhouettes motionless against the stars.

Inside Azazel, Shin stared at the time displayed on his HUD.

Then he smiled.

It was not a warm smile, nor was it one born from amusement. It was the expression of a man who had finally reached the point of no return. Whatever doubts he had harbored earlier, whatever regrets still lingered in the depths of his heart, he pushed them aside. Alexander had been given his chance, and the deadline had come and gone.

There was no need for another warning.

He pressed the trigger of a hidden remote.

In an instant, a series of deafening explosions erupted around the foundations of Cathedral Exa.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The ground shook violently as concealed charges detonated beneath the massive stone structure. Blinding flashes illuminated the surrounding streets, followed by thick clouds of dust that burst from the cathedral's lower walls. The shock waves rolled across the open ground, scattering loose stones and sending nearby soldiers stumbling backward. The air filled with the acrid smell of burning explosives and pulverized masonry, while the thunderous blasts drowned out every shout and scream.

The cathedral's outer pillars shuddered under the force of the explosions. Deep cracks spread across their surfaces, branching through the ancient stone like black veins. For a brief moment, the enormous structure seemed to resist the destruction, its towering walls groaning under the strain. Then the damaged foundations gave way.

A deafening roar swept through the area as sections of the cathedral's outer structure collapsed. Massive stone blocks broke loose from their supports, crashing into the ground with enough force to shake the surrounding streets. Decorative statues toppled from their pedestals, shattering into fragments upon impact. The sound of splintering stone and grinding masonry echoed between the nearby buildings, accompanied by the shrill cries of people who suddenly realized that the ground beneath their feet was no longer safe.

Debris rained down from above.

Clerics who had been standing near the cathedral's entrances barely had time to react before the falling stones buried them beneath heaps of rubble. Adventurers scattered in every direction, desperately searching for shelter as enormous chunks of masonry crashed around them. Some threw themselves behind overturned carts, while others raised magical barriers that flickered under the impact of flying debris. The sudden chaos shattered the carefully maintained standoff, leaving both sides struggling to understand what had happened.

"What the hell!" one adventurer shouted, stumbling as another explosion shook the ground beneath him. He looked toward the collapsing structure, his face drained of color beneath the layer of dust settling over his skin. "Why the hell is the cathedral collapsing!?"

Nobody answered him.

Another section of the outer wall broke apart, sending a wave of rubble cascading into the crowded streets. The impact produced a thunderous crash that left the adventurers' ears ringing. Dust billowed outward, obscuring their vision and turning the surrounding area into a choking gray haze. People coughed and wheezed as they struggled to breathe, their eyes stinging from the fine particles that coated their faces and clothes.

Those who failed to escape the falling debris were crushed beneath the collapsing masonry. Blood splattered across the pale stone pavement, mixing with the dust and forming dark stains between the scattered fragments. A few unfortunate victims were struck by flying chunks of stone, their bodies thrown aside by the force of the impacts. Severed limbs tumbled across the ground as the cathedral continued to collapse, while the cries of the wounded rose above the grinding roar of the destruction.

The smell of blood soon mingled with the stench of explosives and freshly broken stone. Somewhere beneath the rubble, someone screamed for help, their voice growing weaker as more debris settled over the ruins. Others called out the names of their companions, desperately hoping to hear a familiar voice answer from the dust. But the relentless crashing of the collapsing structure swallowed most of their pleas.

The adventurers were no longer concerned about maintaining their formation. Some rushed toward the injured, attempting to pull survivors from beneath the rubble, while others stumbled away from the collapsing walls with their shields raised above their heads. The adventurers, who had been prepared to fight the Empyrean army only moments earlier, now found themselves scrambling to survive. Their weapons lay forgotten in the dirt as they tried to escape the falling stones.

Yet amid the destruction, something strange became apparent.

Although the explosions had devastated the cathedral's foundations and outer structure, the inner walls and towering spires remained untouched. The central portions of Cathedral Exa stood firm behind the curtain of dust, their immense stone surfaces showing no visible signs of damage. The explosions had been carefully directed toward the cathedral's perimeter, destroying its outer supports while leaving the deeper structures intact.

It was not a complete demolition.

It was a deliberate purge of the cathedral's outer foundations, executed with enough precision to devastate the surrounding area while preserving the inner walls and towers.

And as the dust continued to rise into the midnight sky, the Halochassis remained hovering overhead, their glowing eyes watching the destruction they had unleashed.

However, the destruction of Cathedral Exa did not bring an end to the suffering. If anything, the collapse of the outer foundations had only marked the beginning of a far more horrifying night. Beneath the thick clouds of dust, the cries of the adventurers and clerics echoed through the ruined grounds, mingling with the groans of injured soldiers and the relentless clatter of falling stones. The air was filled with the acrid stench of explosives, pulverized masonry, and fresh blood. Fine particles clung to people's skin and hair, irritating their eyes and throats until every breath became a struggle. Those who had survived the initial collapse crawled across the broken pavement, desperately searching for their companions while trying to avoid the unstable piles of rubble scattered around them.

"My eyes! My eyes!" one adventurer screamed, clutching his face with both hands. Blood trickled between his fingers as he staggered blindly through the debris, bumping into broken pillars and overturned carts. He could barely see through the dust and tears, and every attempt to wipe his face only smeared more grime across his cheeks.

"I lost my foot! Help!" another man cried. He lay sprawled beside a shattered stone column, his face twisted in agony as he desperately tried to drag himself away from the rubble. His remaining leg scraped against the rough pavement, leaving a dark trail behind him. "Somebody, please! I don't want to die here!"

"Healer! Somebody heal him!" a woman shouted, kneeling beside a fallen adventurer whose armor had been crushed beneath a heavy slab of stone. She pressed both hands against his wounds, but the blood continued to seep between her fingers. Her voice cracked as she looked around for someone who could help. "Please! He's still breathing! Someone, hurry!"

A few steps away, an elderly cleric lay beneath the remains of a broken archway. His white robes had been stained with dust and blood, and his trembling fingers struggled to reach the holy symbol hanging around his neck. He could hear the distant cries of the wounded, but he no longer had the strength to rise. As the pain spread through his battered body, he turned his face toward the dark sky and whispered his final request.

"Tell my wife I love her..."

His voice was barely audible beneath the continuing rumble of collapsing masonry. Nobody answered him. The people who might have heard his words were either fighting for their own lives or desperately trying to rescue those trapped beneath the debris.

And above them all, the Halochassis continued to hover.

Inside Azazel's cockpit, Shin Rebellium watched the devastation unfold through his external cameras. The HUD displayed countless moving figures among the ruins, their silhouettes flickering as dust and smoke interfered with the sensors. Warning indicators appeared whenever the system detected structural instability, but Shin paid them little attention. He had expected the destruction to be considerable. After all, this had never been an improvised attack.

He had prepared for this long before the night of the raid.

During their operation in the slums, when Shin and Aether had infiltrated Cathedral Exa and assassinated Saint Elwyn, they had taken the opportunity to plant explosives around the cathedral's foundations. While the other Iron Bandits focused on their immediate objectives, the two of them had quietly prepared an additional contingency. They had concealed the charges in carefully selected locations, calculating where the explosions would cause the greatest damage to the outer structure without bringing down the entire cathedral.

It had been their Plan B.

At the time, neither Shin nor Aether had been certain whether they would ever need to use it. Their assassination of Saint Elwyn had proceeded without requiring such a drastic measure, and the Iron Bandits had managed to escape without resorting to the explosives. The charges had remained hidden beneath the cathedral, waiting for a day that might never come.

Yet Shin had never ordered their removal.

He had kept that option in reserve, knowing that a situation might eventually arise in which ordinary tactics would no longer suffice. Now, with Alexander Goldheart refusing to surrender and the deadline finally expired, the explosives had become the opening move of his assault.

The investment had paid off.

As Shin watched the adventurers struggle through the wreckage, the corners of his mouth curled upward. He could hear their screams through the external audio feed, each desperate plea reaching his cockpit with unsettling clarity. The sounds should have reminded him of the human cost of his decision. They should have stirred some lingering fragment of guilt or hesitation.

Instead, they only made him laugh.

"These hands of mine have been dirty for a long time now," Shin declared, his voice echoing through Azazel's communication system. He leaned back against his seat, his shoulders shaking as a strange exhilaration spread through him. "I've discarded all my conscience ever since I was four. This destruction was always what I sought. I'd say this is my passion!"

His laughter grew louder, spilling through the communication channel in a series of increasingly hysterical bursts.

"Ahahahahahaha!"

The sound was so unrestrained that it seemed almost unnatural coming from the usually calculating Shin Rebellium. He laughed as though the destruction below were some grand performance staged exclusively for his amusement, ignoring the suffering of those who had been caught in the blast. The deep vibrations of Azazel's reactor accompanied his laughter, while the red and gold indicators on his HUD continued to flicker across his vision.

Nearby, Adzeel Schwarzer and Risha could only stare at him through their respective Halochassis.

Inside Apollyon, Adzeel's expression darkened as he listened to Shin's manic laughter over the communications channel. He had known that Shin could be ruthless. After all, the young man had willingly joined the Iron Bandits and fought against the Celestial Wardens, fully aware of the consequences of their actions. He had also witnessed Shin's determination during their previous operations, particularly when the lives of his companions were at stake.

But this was different.

The destruction of Cathedral Exa had been calculated, and its effectiveness was undeniable. The explosions had crippled the enemy's forces before the battle had even begun. Nevertheless, the sight of Shin celebrating the suffering of the wounded unsettled Adzeel more than he wanted to admit. He wondered how much of the man he knew remained beneath Azazel's black and gold armor.

Risha shared his uneasiness. Inside Zaqiel, she watched the burning ruins through her external cameras, her fingers tightening around the gauntlets. Her fiery wings flickered behind her pink armor, casting shifting orange reflections across the cockpit's interior. She had chosen to follow Shin because she loved him, believing that she could protect him even if the rest of the world turned against him. Yet hearing him laugh at the suffering of innocent people left a bitter sensation in her chest.

She had expected Shin to be ruthless. She had expected him to do whatever was necessary to accomplish his objective.

She had not expected him to sound so happy about it.

Despite their concerns, neither Adzeel nor Risha had the luxury of questioning him. The explosions had shattered the fragile standoff, and the Empyrean army would soon recover from its initial shock. Every second they spent hesitating gave Alexander more time to prepare his defenses.

Adzeel straightened in his cockpit and opened the general communications channel. His voice boomed through the speakers of every Archangel Halochassis, cutting through the chaos below.

"The deadline is over!" he roared. "Find Alexander Goldheart and kill him! Eliminate anyone who stands in our way!"

His command swept through the battlefield like a thunderclap.

"Yes, sir!" the Archangels answered in unison.

Their voices reverberated through the communications network as hundreds of Halochassis shifted into attack formation. Their mechanical wings unfolded, their propulsion systems roared to life, and their mana reactors surged with renewed intensity. One after another, the armored warriors descended toward the battlefield, their silhouettes streaking through the night like falling stars.

The war had begun.

The adventurers who had survived the explosions barely had time to recover before the Halochassis descended upon them. The initial blast had already eliminated roughly half of their forces in the surrounding area, leaving only about two thousand adventurers capable of fighting effectively. Many of the survivors were injured, exhausted, or separated from their companions. Some had lost their weapons beneath the rubble, while others struggled to maintain their defensive formations amid the thick dust and scattered debris.

The Archangels, meanwhile, numbered only around eight hundred.

On paper, the difference in numbers should have favored the adventurers. They still possessed enough warriors, mages, and archers to surround the attacking Halochassis several times over. Yet the numerical advantage meant little when their opponents possessed superior armor, overwhelming firepower, and the ability to withstand attacks that would have killed ordinary combatants.

Most of the Archangel pilots had already experienced real combat. They understood how to exploit openings in an enemy's formation, when to retreat from a dangerous attack, and how to coordinate with their fellow pilots. Many of them could handle entire small adventurer parties alone, forcing four or more opponents to work together just to keep a single Halochassis occupied.

Their greatest advantage, however, was the Hybrid Armor protecting their machines.

The technology allowed the Halochassis to withstand tremendous amounts of physical and magical damage. Swords could scrape against their armored plating without leaving more than shallow marks, while ordinary magical projectiles often dispersed harmlessly against their defensive fields. Even when powerful attacks managed to penetrate their outer defenses, the Hybrid Armor could sustain the machines through damage that would have crippled conventional power armor.

As long as their systems remained operational and their energy reserves held, the Archangels could continue fighting for an extraordinarily long time. Their enemies, by contrast, had to worry about exhaustion, injuries, dwindling mana, and the simple limits of human endurance.

The battle quickly became a nightmare.

A swordsman charged toward an Archangel Halochassis, his blade glowing with enchanted mana. He swung at the machine's knee joint, hoping to disable its mobility, but the weapon struck the armor with a deafening clang. Sparks scattered across the battlefield as the blade bounced away. Before the adventurer could recover, the Halochassis drove its armored fist into his chest and sent him tumbling across the broken pavement.

Nearby, an archer released a volley of enchanted arrows. The projectiles whistled through the air, leaving thin trails of light before striking another Halochassis across its torso and shoulders. Several arrows shattered upon impact, their magical energy dispersing in brief flashes. The machine barely slowed down. It raised its arm, and a burst of gunfire forced the archers to scatter behind the remains of a collapsed wall.

Bullets flew in every direction.

The sharp reports of firearms echoed between the cathedral's towers as the Halochassis unleashed their weapons against the adventurers. Muzzle flashes illuminated the dust clouds, briefly revealing terrified faces and bloodstained armor. Adventurers ducked behind broken pillars, while others attempted to close the distance before the machines could bring their guns to bear.

Mages retaliated with magical missiles, hurling blazing spheres of fire, spears of ice, and bolts of concentrated lightning toward the attacking machines. The projectiles streaked across the night sky, exploding against armored bodies and scattering showers of sparks. For a moment, the battlefield glowed with a dazzling mixture of red flames, blue lightning, and violet magical energy.

Then the Halochassis emerged from the smoke.

Their armor was scorched, and some carried visible dents across their plating, but most continued advancing without hesitation. Their weapons roared again, forcing the adventurers to abandon their positions and retreat through the streets. Those who attempted to surround a single machine often discovered that another Halochassis had already moved into their blind spot.

Swords clashed. Bullets flew. Magical missiles showered the battlefield.

The air trembled with explosions, the shriek of enchanted weapons, and the desperate cries of combatants. The smell of burned mana mixed with smoke and blood, while the ground grew increasingly difficult to traverse beneath the rubble and fallen bodies. The once peaceful surroundings of Cathedral Exa had become a sprawling battlefield, and neither side showed any intention of surrendering.

Amid the chaos, Apollyon turned toward Azazel.

"Shin!" Adzeel shouted over the communications channel. "Alexander must be holed up in the underground section of the cathedral!"

Azazel's head tilted slightly as Shin recalled the layout of the structure. Despite the explosions that had devastated the outer foundations, the deeper chambers remained accessible. The underground complex had been built to house sacred relics and preserve the remains of the Demon King, making it one of the most heavily protected areas beneath Cathedral Exa.

"I remember," Azazel replied. "Aether and I fought Saint Elwyn in there. That's where they buried the remains of the Demon King."

The memory returned to him with uncomfortable clarity. He remembered the cold stone corridors, the oppressive atmosphere of the underground chambers, and the lingering scent of incense that clung to the ancient walls. He also remembered the confrontation with Saint Elwyn, the battle that had ultimately led him and Aether to uncover the secrets hidden beneath the cathedral.

If Alexander had chosen to hide anywhere, the underground complex was a logical place to start looking.

"Then guide me!" Adzeel ordered. "You're coming with me!"

"Understood."

Shin adjusted Azazel's controls, and the black and gold Halochassis angled its body toward the cathedral's entrance. Its propulsion system roared as it accelerated, sending loose dust swirling across the rooftops. Apollyon followed close behind, its powerful frame cutting through the smoky air with practiced precision.

Before they could depart, however, another voice interrupted their communications.

"I'll go too!" Risha declared.

Zaqiel surged forward, her fiery wings flaring as she joined the two elite Halochassis. The flames illuminated the surrounding ruins, their orange glow contrasting sharply with Azazel's dark armor and Apollyon's imposing silhouette. She kept her weapons ready as the three machines descended toward the cathedral, their attention fixed on the entrance leading to the underground chambers.

Together, the three elite Halochassis plunged through the haze toward their destination. The ruined outer walls rushed past them, and the immense stone entrance grew larger with every passing second. Below, adventurers and royal guards continued fighting amid the rubble, their clashes reduced to tiny flashes of light beneath the towering machines.

They were only a few meters from the entrance when a sudden flash erupted from below.

A brilliant blue beam tore through the darkness.

The attack struck with such speed that none of the three pilots had time to react. The blaster's concentrated energy swept upward, engulfing a cluster of Halochassis that had been descending toward the cathedral. Their defensive fields flickered for an instant before the beam overwhelmed them, and the machines vanished in a series of blinding explosions.

BOOOOOOM!

The blast shook the surrounding air, scattering fragments of armor and burning debris across the sky. The shock wave struck the three elite Halochassis, forcing them to stabilize their flight as their HUDs flashed with sudden warnings. Blue light reflected across their armored bodies, and the sharp smell of scorched metal drifted through the external ventilation systems.

A dozen Halochassis had been vaporized in a single attack.

For a moment, even Shin was left speechless.

"Oh, shit!" he exclaimed, wrenching Azazel around as he searched for the source of the blast. His HUD rapidly highlighted the area from which the energy discharge had originated, but he barely needed the assistance of his targeting system. The sheer destructive force of the attack had already narrowed his attention toward the ground below.

"What was that?"

Adzeel immediately halted Apollyon's descent, while Risha spread Zaqiel's fiery wings to maintain her position in the air. All three Halochassis turned toward the location of the attack, their sensors scanning the ruined streets and the surviving structures around the cathedral.

Through the drifting clouds of dust, they finally spotted the person responsible.

A woman stood below them, her figure illuminated by the lingering blue glow of her weapon. Her posture was steady despite the chaos surrounding her, and the pistol in her hand remained pointed toward the night sky. Wisps of smoke curled from the weapon's barrel, while the light reflecting across its surface faded as its energy systems settled after the devastating discharge.

Her presence alone seemed to command the attention of the battlefield.

Shin recognized her immediately.

It was Lireina Ashford.

The Untouchable Windwalker stood amid the ruins, her weapon still raised toward the Halochassis hovering overhead. Her expression was difficult to read through the drifting dust, but there was no hesitation in the way she held her pistol. She had just annihilated twelve Halochassis with a single shot, and she appeared perfectly prepared to fire again.

Inside Azazel, Shin's smile vanished.

The woman he had hoped would remain far away from this battlefield had finally arrived.