Chapter 177: The Counter-Invasion of the High Heavens
The atmospheric pressure following the annihilation of the Seventh Wing did not dissipate; it solidified. The air around the farmhouse, now transformed into a spire of jagged obsidian and glowing violet runes, hummed with the resonance of a world-changing event. The data of reality had been pushed beyond its breaking point—the Demon King's influence had grown so vast that the mortal realm could no longer contain his essence. Volt stood at the summit of the spire, his golden crest of the Author shining with a light that was no longer dark, but a blinding, absolute authority that rivaled the sun.
"The defensive phase is over," Volt declared, his voice vibrating through the souls of everyone present. He looked up at the closing rift in the sky, where the terrified remnants of the divine host were retreating. "They have brought the war to our doorstep for too long. Now, we shall bring the narrative to theirs."
Anos and Akuto landed beside their father, their bodies still radiating the stolen divinity of the Arch-Seraphim. Anos's eyes were cold and analytical, his mind already calculating the structural weaknesses of the Upper Realm's gates. Akuto, however, was a storm of barely contained energy; the Sakuna root had evolved, merging with the divine ichor he had consumed to create a new form of "Cursed Divinity." He was the perfect weapon for what was about to come.
"Father, the Seventh Gate is closing," Anos noted, pointing his sword at the shrinking white void in the sky. "If we do not move now, the High Council will seal the dimensions and hide behind their veils of order."
Volt smiled—a sharp, predatory expression. "They think they can close a book I am still writing. Anos, Akuto... hold my hands."
As the family joined their power, the golden crest on Volt's wrist expanded, turning into a massive, metaphysical pen of light. Using the astronomical growth of their collective influence, Volt didn't just fly toward the rift; he rewrote the distance between the farmhouse and the High Heavens to zero. In a flash of violet and gold, the entire spire—and everyone within it—was transported.
They materialized not in the frozen valley, but in the Square of Eternal Light, the heart of the Upper Realm. The ground was made of solid diamond, and the air tasted of ambrosia and ancient incense. Thousands of minor deities and celestial servants froze in terror as the obsidian spire erupted from the pristine diamond floor, shattering the perfection of the gods' sanctuary.
The High Council, seated upon their ivory thrones in the distance, rose as one. These were the Twelve Primes, the beings who claimed to have managed the universe since its inception. Their leader, Aethelred the Unmoving, stepped forward, his face a mask of divine fury. "Volt! You dare to trespass upon the Throne of Truth? You have brought your filth into the purest realm of existence!"
"Purist?" Volt laughed, his voice echoing through the diamond halls. "This is not a realm of truth; it is a realm of stagnation. You have spent eons recycling the same tired stories, afraid of any 'data' that you didn't create yourselves. I am not a trespasser. I am the Editor come to cut the dead weight from the manuscript."
Vanessa, Sasha, and Karin stepped out from the spire's entrance, their weapons drawn. They were the first mortals to ever set foot in the High Heavens without a divine invitation. Their presence alone was a paradox that caused the diamond ground to crack and turn into dark glass.
"Anos, take the left flank. Akuto, the right," Volt commanded. "Destroy the pillars of their 'Order.' Let them see what happens when the characters they tried to delete come back to reclaim the ink."
The battle for the High Heavens began with an explosion that shook the foundations of the multiverse. Anos moved like a ghost of violet flame, his God-Slayer blade severing the connections between the gods and their sources of worship. Every pillar he destroyed caused a god to lose their immortality, turning them into screaming, mortal husks. Akuto, meanwhile, was a whirlwind of destruction. He didn't just fight the deities; he consumed their concepts. He tore the "Concept of Justice" from a minor god and crushed it in his fist, using the energy to fuel the Sakuna tendrils that were now wrapping around the Ivory Thrones.
The High Council attempted to cast the "Final Erasure," a collective spell designed to reset the entire timeline. But Volt was already there. He stepped onto the central dais, the Author's Mark on his wrist flaring with such intensity that the gods' spell simply evaporated before it could be cast.
"You cannot erase me," Volt hissed, his hand closing around Aethelred's throat. "I have already reached the milestone you feared most. My influence is no longer a number you can manage; it is the new standard of reality."
Volt lifted the leader of the gods into the air. "Your chapter is finished, Aethelred. The ink has run dry for your Council." With a surge of demonic authority, Volt didn't just kill the god; he erased his name from the memories of every living being in the universe. Aethelred vanished into a cloud of colorless dust, forgotten before he even hit the ground.
The other Council members fell to their knees, their golden armor tarnishing and their halos flickering out. The Upper Realm, once a place of blinding light, was now being draped in the regal violet shadows of the Demon King's empire. The "Applying" phase of their destiny was over; the contract with fate had been signed in the blood of the divine.
Volt stood at the center of the High Heavens, looking out over the crumbling paradise. His family stood beside him—stronger, wiser, and more powerful than any beings in history. They had not just survived the gods' judgment; they had become the judges.
"The heavens are quiet now," Sasha whispered, looking at the broken ivory thrones.
"They are quiet because they are waiting for the first word of the new age," Volt replied, his eyes turning toward the infinite void beyond the High Heavens. "And we have a lot more to write."