Extra's POV: My Obsessive Villainous Fiancee Is The Game's Final Boss-Chapter 238: Light And Resonance

The battlefield that was half inside and half outside Edenhold had already descended into madness, but madness had yet to meet its master.

As columns of smoke curled into the sky and the sound of steel clashing against steel filled the air, a new shadow descended from the east.

On a normal day, it would've been spotted, but today, it went largely unnoticed. Everyone was too preoccupied with staying alive.

The entire mass moved like a living mist, writhing with the sickly rhythm of rot. They ran and slithered forward in silence, creeping like the edge of a nightmare.

And then, as if the world itself realized the horror that approached, the screaming began.

The army of the infected had arrived.

There were thousands of them. Their eyes burned with blood and their bodies twisted with the fury of the Red Tree.

Most had previously been human, but right now, they were anything but. Some had grown extra limbs, and others skittered on all fours like predators, skin mottled and sloughing.

Blood dripped from open wounds that refused to close. They were a force without reason, a tide of madness.

And at the head of this horde stood Vesper.

He rode atop an infected horse like a conductor before an orchestra, his tattered cloak fluttering dramatically. His arms were raised, and in his face was pure delight.

Behind him, the infected howled and shrieked as they surged forward. Vesper smiled wider and brought his hands together with a thunderous clap.

A dozen explosions erupted across the already broken wall, tearing a wider hole in it for his army to join the fight.

A large section of the wall simply vanished, reduced to debris. The towers along them collapsed inward, falling on some of the fighters, taking out the lives of both the Chosen and the king's army under it.

Smoke billowed upward, obscuring the sun. And through the breach, the infected poured in.

They did not march. They didn't hold formation. They swarmed.

Even as the soldiers struggled to hold their own, the citizens of Edenhold didn't stand a chance.

The infected tore through the outer streets with the kind of speed that was anything but natural. Women, children, elders, none were spared.

The air filled with blood and burning wood. Doors shattered. Bodies fell. Chosen scrambled to form defensive lines, but the chaos was too deep.

Vesper stepped through the flames, laughing like this was a party.

With a twist of his back, wings burst from his shoulders, flesh and bone rearranging themselves into grotesque limbs. The wings stretched wide, dripping thick blood like hot wax.

With a beat, he launched himself into the air.

High above the rooftops, he soared. Attacks flew at him, approaching in the form of metal, or other forms like fire and blades of wind. He dodged with glee, leaving behind the sound of his laughter.

One brave Chosen met him in mid-air. Vesper didn't even pause. His clawed hand tore through the man's chest.

Another came at him from behind. Vesper turned in a whirl of wings and teeth, his jaw unhinging creepily, and devouring the man's head whole.

With a final laugh, he descended toward the cathedral.

He didn't enter through a door. He crashed through a stained-glass window at full speed. The holy image of the Creator shattered into fragments. Glass rained like knives. Priests inside screamed. Acolytes ran.

Vesper didn't even slow down.

He slammed into the marble floor, cracking it beneath his feet. Then he rose, eyes wild.

"Rennnnn." He sang, dragging his claws along the marble. The gouges hissed, steam rising from them. "Come out and play."

He stalked through the halls of the holy cathedral, tearing apart anyone who stood in his way.

One priest raised up his copy of the holy scriptures, muttering prayers. Vesper grabbed his skull and crushed it. Two Chosen leapt at him with flaming swords, and he didn't even move. His wing whooshed through the air, slicing through both of them at once.

Every barrier they tried to raise failed. Every line broke.

And still, he searched.

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Meanwhile, outside the city, the skies were bright with light.

The Pope hovered above the battlefield, his robes glowing brightly. His eyes were pure golden flame. The wind swirled around him, lifting dust, ash, and awe.

He landed with the force of a meteor. The ground split.

Standing before him was King Mikael, his red cloak torn and his armor scorched. But his stance remained the same. Proud. Unshaken.

"Finally." he snarled as he raised his sword. "Let us begin."

The air warped between them, and the Pope made the first move.

With a grunt, he summoned a pillar of light. It streaked towards Mikael like a spear from the heavens.

The king bellowed and a blast of his Vibration resonance left his outstretched hand, shattering the Pope's attack.

"You thief." The Pope hissed.

Mikael smirked. And with a bellow, he charged.

They collided like titans.

The Pope summoned blades of light, meeting Mikael's special sword in the air. There was a clang as the sword repelled the light, sending a shockwave through the air.

The soldiers around them were hurled in all directions. Some died instantly from the pressure alone.

The Pope shimmered and blades made of light appeared, circling him like angels. Mikael snarled as he shot blasts of vibrations, bursting each one apart with perfect frequency. Then, he attacked with his sword, tearing golden streaks from the Pope's robes.

The Pope responded with lances of condensed light that burned through Mikael's armor, but before it could touch the skin beneath, it was shattered by vibrations.

With a scream, Mikael unleashed the bulk of his loop. Eyes going wide, the Pope unleashed his loop.

BOOM!

Chasms split the earth. Columns of fire rose around them. Trees ignited, and rocks melted.

The explosion blew them back, but a second later, they were before each other. Mikael struck, aiming for the Pope's heart, but the man twisted, a blade of light batting the attack away.

And just as Mikael pulled back, the Pope grinned as a beam shot through his chest, scorching through Mikael's ribs.

And the Pope capitalized.

Mikael fought hard, dodging and twisting, his vibrations like a shroud around him. But light was everywhere.

And with a giant pillar, the Pope forced him down to a knee. Mikael coughed, blood staining his hand.

He looked up at the Pope who hovered above, floating like a divine being. With a single motion, the old man summoned a hundred spears of pure light.

They circled him like the wrath of heaven.

He pointed.

And the spears fell.

A wave of vibrations swept through the air, but they were nothing against the power of a loop that had been cultivated for decades.

Mikael screamed as they struck. Blood sprayed. His armor cracked, and his sword fell from his hands.

The Pope descended slowly, raising one hand to deliver the killing blow.

But Mikael smiled.

Despite the pain, despite the blood, he looked up at his enemy and smiled.

"You've already lost, Pope." He said, voice ragged.

The Pope's eyes narrowed.

"Because everything you feared would come to pass... already has."

The Pope snarled and struck the final blow. Mikael's head fell and rolled to the side, his body following a second later.

He might be dead, but he wasn't wrong.

Within the cathedral, Vesper was tearing through the priests, acolyte and the Chosens who had remained as a last stand.

Beneath their feet, Ren and his group stalked the halls, drawing closer to the Blood Chosen.

And above them all, the Chained Man watched.

For the war was far from over.