Chapter 173: The Descent of the Heavenly Host
The shattering of the Archangel's spear sent a shockwave through the spiritual ley lines of the world, a definitive signal that the Demon King's farmhouse was no longer a mere residence, but a forbidden zone for the divine. As the broken messenger dissolved into particles of fading light, the sky above did not return to its winter darkness. Instead, the clouds swirled into a golden vortex, and the rhythmic sound of celestial trumpets began to vibrate through the very atoms of the air. The High Council had seen enough; they were launching a full-scale "Sanctification" to erase Volt and his growing influence from existence.
Volt stood in the center of the yard, the golden crest on his wrist now burning with a fierce, obsidian-edged radiance. He looked up as hundreds of streaks of white light began to descend from the vortex—the Vanguard of the Decree. These were not individual warriors, but a collective legion of divine soldiers, their wills synchronized to a single purpose: the total annihilation of the "Author" who dared to rewrite their script.
"Father, the barrier is holding, but the pressure is immense," Anos shouted, his voice barely audible over the roar of the descending host. He stood on the porch, his hands outstretched, maintaining a dome of violet energy that shielded the house. Behind him, the windows rattled violently, and the ground groaned as it absorbed the divine radiation. Vanessa and Aki were inside, fueling the house's ancient wards with their own essence, knowing that if the barrier fell, the sheer holiness of the invaders would incinerate their mortal forms.
Akuto stepped down from the porch, his boots crunching on the crystallized grass. He didn't look afraid; he looked hungry. The Sakuna root within him was thrashing like a caged beast, sensing the abundance of divine energy it could consume. "Anos, keep the shield on the house," Akuto commanded, his voice dropping into a guttural register. "The ones in the air... they belong to me."
Volt glanced back at his youngest heir. He saw the shift in Akuto's aura—a blend of royal demon blood and the chaotic hunger of the cursed root. "Do not let the hunger consume your reason, Akuto," Volt warned, though he made no move to stop him. "Eat their light, but remain the master of your own soul."
With a roar that tore through the celestial music, Akuto launched himself into the sky. He didn't use wings; he propelled himself with explosions of cursed energy. In mid-air, he collided with the first wave of the divine legion. His strikes were no longer just physical; they were conceptual. Every time his fist connected with a golden shield, he tore away a portion of the angel's essence, absorbing it into the crimson markings on his skin. He was a black hole in a sea of light, a predator among the self-proclaimed judges.
Down on the ground, Volt watched as the sky became a chaotic canvas of red, violet, and gold. The growth of his family's power was now visible to the entire world, a massive spike in spiritual data that threatened to crash the system of fate itself. Every angel Akuto struck down, every second Anos held the barrier, their legend grew, cementing Volt's status as the True Author of this new age.
Suddenly, the golden vortex in the sky expanded, and a figure ten times larger than the others emerged. This was Uriel, the Warden of Order, carrying a shield that represented the unchangeable laws of the universe. He looked down at the scene with eyes that held the coldness of absolute zero. "Volt! Your arrogance has reached its limit. You claim the title of Author, but you are nothing but a glitch in the grand design!"
Uriel raised his shield, and a beam of pure, conceptual "Order" shot toward the farmhouse. This wasn't a physical attack; it was a command for reality to reset, to delete everything that didn't fit the gods' plan—including the farm, the princes, and the Demon King himself.
Volt finally moved. He didn't fly up to meet the Warden. Instead, he simply pressed his palm against the earth. The golden crest on his wrist flared, and for a moment, time itself seemed to stutter. "You speak of design," Volt whispered, his voice resonating through the foundations of the world. "But you forget who invented the language you use to describe it."
Using the massive influence he had accumulated, Volt rewrote the properties of the air around the beam of Order. Instead of a reset command, the beam was transformed into a shower of harmless flower petals as it hit the violet barrier. The Warden's eyes widened in genuine terror. To rewrite a divine decree in real-time required a level of authority that was supposed to be impossible for any being, demon or otherwise.
"Akuto! Anos! The Warden is the anchor," Volt commanded. "Break him, and the sky is ours!"
Anos didn't hesitate. He released the barrier on the house, trusting the internal wards, and joined Akuto in the sky. The two brothers hovered on either side of the massive Warden, their auras intertwining to form a spear of absolute negation. They were the ultimate expression of Volt's power—the proof that the Demon King's legacy was not just a memory, but a living, breathing force of nature.
The battle above the farmhouse had become a war of the heavens. Below, the ground continued to change, turning into a throne of obsidian and gold, rising from the earth to meet the feet of the King. Volt sat upon the rising stone, his eyes never leaving the sky. He was no longer just a farmer defending his home; he was a Sovereign watching his heirs conquer the gods. The thirty-day trial of patience was being replaced by a trial of blood, and the Demon King was winning.