Chapter 1157: The Mirrored Formation

Silverwood Realm, Staghelm City.

Colorful energy roiled and expanded across the sky, a chaotic aurora, as if the gods themselves were putting on a firework show for some cosmic celebration.

"You damned traitor! DIE!"

Edward’s thunderous voice echoed across the heavens, shaking the entire battlefield.

Beside the Moonwell in the heart of Staghelm City, Isilra and Moonwell Demigod, who had been deep in meditation, snapped their heads up. Their eyes were wide as they stared at a sky that looked ready to shatter. The faint, oppressive auras of eight demigods bled through the chaos, turning the heavens above their home into a vision of the apocalypse.

"Mother, they’re here!" Isilra’s voice was a mixture of raw excitement and profound relief.

The arrival of the Champions Alliance meant the immediate crisis was over. With the enemy’s demigods occupied, Isilra was confident they could hold the walls against any number of archlords the Cult threw at them.

"Mother, we should—"

Isilra started to speak, but Moonwell Demigod cut her off with a shake of her head.

"The formation they’ve raised is too powerful. Even I can’t simply pass through it," she said, her gaze fixed on the celestial turmoil. "We have to wait. The moment a crack appears, I will go to our allies’ aid."

It was the hard truth. The Dodecahedron of Four Elements was a Destruction-class magical formation, jointly powered by four of the Cult of Four’s Pontiffs. Even a mage demigod as powerful as the Deputy Commander could only counter it with mimicry magic. If Moonwell Demigod tried to brute-force her way through, it would be suicide.

"Isilra, your duty is here," Moonwell Demigod declared, turning to her daughter. She waved a hand over the placid waters of the Moonwell, and the surface shifted, revealing a tide of demonic monsters pouring across the plains, a living flood surging toward Staghelm City. "You must lead the people and the guardians of this city. You will hold the walls."

With the Champions Alliance demigods now inside the trap, the Cult of Four had launched its all-out ground assault.

"I... Yes, Mother! I’m going now!"

Without a shred of hesitation, Isilra leaped to her feet and sprinted toward the battlements. The worry that had plagued her was gone.

Moonwell demigod watched her go, offering no further words of caution. In the face of an overwhelming foe, everyone had their part to play. She had hers, Isilra had hers, and the people of Staghelm City had a duty to defend their home.

High above, within the swirling vortex of the formation.

"Hee hee hee... Edward," a sharp, mocking voice cackled. "I call you Deputy Commander out of respect. But let’s be real, you’re just an old fossil."

It was Clown.

"Guys your age should be finding a nice quiet place to retire, not trying to scrap with the pros. You gotta understand, the real world is full of pitfalls. And when an old-timer like you takes a fall, nobody’s coming to help you back up. You’ll just die in that hole."

The taunts were met not with anger, but with a heavy, disdainful snort.

Then, a crystalline vertex, a triangular point of pure magic covered in shimmering runes, tore its way into existence. An indescribable force compressed around it and then slammed viciously into the Cult of Four’s Dodecahedron of Four Elements.

"Wait—that attack pattern... that’s a Worldbreaker’s Edge!" Valerius, the last Pontiff to arrive at the Black Tower, cried out in disbelief. The Dodecahedron formation was his trump card. "That’s an attack from our formation! How are they using the same matrix as us?"

Clown, Konak, and Yriel hadn’t even known the specifics of this formation before Valerius brought it. Yet their enemy was deploying it against them flawlessly. It was something Valerius had never even conceived of.

"Pontiff Valerius, are you certain?" Konak demanded, his eyes meeting Yriel’s. Both their faces darkened. "Could there be a traitor within the Cult of Four?"

"I saw it with my own eyes!" Valerius shot back, his voice strained. "It was a Worldbreaker’s Edge! Do you think my eyes are failing me? The principles, the operational flow—it’s nearly identical to ours!"

"It’s not one of ours. And we don’t have a traitor," Clown’s voice cut in, steadying the rising panic. "One of our opponents is a mage demigod. On his home plane, there exists a type of mimicry magic. I suspect that’s what we’re seeing now."

"Mimicry magic?"

"Yes. And never underestimate a demigod of magic," Clown warned. "Especially one from a major magical faction."

Honestly, Clown wasn’t the least bit surprised the Deputy Commander had a move like this up his sleeve. The man was backed by a legendary magocracy, an organization rumored to have once been led by a true god of magic. The accumulated power of a faction like that over millennia was no joke.

"Pontiff Jack," Valerius pressed, "do you know which plane this magic comes from? Could we perhaps..."

Clown shook his head, knowing exactly what the other man was thinking. "Don’t even think about it. We’re talking about a super-plane. Forget us, even a god would likely fall if they tried to invade. That is a world of mages, for mages. If you don’t have the plane’s explicit permission, you can’t get in. It rejects all other forms of existence."

Clown had been there once, brought through by the Deputy Commander in a disposable puppet avatar. Even then, the oppressive will of the world itself had nearly crushed him. In all the years since, he had never once entertained the thought of making a move against that plane.

"A super-plane?" Yriel gasped. It wasn’t the concept that shocked him—the Cult of Four controlled one such world themselves. What was shocking was the existence of a magical faction powerful enough to originate from one. Every super-plane was born from the presence of a true, god-tier entity.

"Well, Pontiffs," Clown said, his gaze shifting to Valerius. "Our enemy has made his move. Are we just going to sit here and take it?"

Valerius, the master of the Dodecahedron formation, was the one who had to respond.

"Hmph. If it’s just mimicry magic, then he has sorely underestimated the Cult of Four," he sneered, his confidence returning. "At the end of the day, the real Dodecahedron of Four Elements is ours."

He raised his staff, and divine power poured forth. An identical Worldbreaker’s Edge materialized and surged forward, meeting the Deputy Commander’s copy in a cataclysmic explosion of energy.

But that was only the beginning.

From the depths of their formation, twenty hulking elemental guardians, each radiating the power of a demigod, emerged and soared through the arcane battlefield.

"I’d like to see if your cheap copy can simulate this!" Valerius roared, directing his elemental legion to charge the Champions Alliance’s mimicked formation.