Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory-Chapter 480: Latent power

Honestly, just looking at her stat panel...

Ethan didn’t see any huge changes at first glance. Her base stats—attack, defense, spell power, even magic damage—had only gone up slightly. Barely noticeable, really. The only thing that had jumped out?

Her HP.

That had skyrocketed from 100,000 to 150,000—a full 50% increase.

In the world of Glory Lords X, Tier was king. No matter the class, the race, the skillset, or the divine rank—Tier was the ultimate measure of power. The higher the Tier, the stronger you were. Period.

That was the golden rule.

But what exactly made Tier so powerful? And how much stronger did it actually make someone, if you tried to break it down into raw numbers?

Short answer: no one really knew.

Seriously. Tier strength wasn’t something you could quantify with stats. It wasn’t about numbers—it was about definition. About essence.

Because no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t calculate the true gap between Tiers with any stat sheet.

That’s where the concept of "latent power" came in.

Tier was a form of latent power. So was Divine Power. These weren’t things you could see on a character sheet. They didn’t show up in attack values or spell damage. But they were real—and they made all the difference.

That’s why, even earlier, when Seraphina’s stats looked pretty similar to Malenthia’s on paper, the difference in actual combat power had been obvious. You could feel it. That was the hidden power gap at work.

Back then, Seraphina had only been a Lesser Deity.

Now? She was an Intermediate Deity.

A Lesser Deity trying to take on a Greater Deity? Not a chance in hell.

But an Intermediate Deity going up against a Greater Deity?

Still tough. But not impossible.

"Let’s use this chance to let Seraphina get used to her new power," Ethan said quietly to Isaryne. "As for us... let’s go clean up those Black Dragons, Red Dragons, and Shadow Matriarchs."

With that, he rose into the air and shot off toward the battlefield where the regular units were still clashing—where Orryn, Kaiin, and Balthazar were holding the line.

"Master!"

"My Lord!"

"My Lord!"

Voices called out as he landed.

"Orryn, Kaiin, Balthazar—you’ve done well. What’s the situation? Any rough numbers on our losses?"

Ethan glanced around, and his heart sank a little.

Both sides—the Dungeon army and their own Emerald Castle forces—had clearly taken a beating. Their numbers were way down.

That... wasn’t a good sign.

Don’t tell me we lost that many...

"My Lord," Balthazar spoke up, his tone grim but steady. "Preliminary estimates suggest we’ve lost over half of our regular troops. We don’t have exact numbers yet, but... yeah. Around fifty percent, give or take."

"Half..." Ethan muttered, his voice low.

Damn.

This might’ve been the worst loss he’d ever taken.

And it wasn’t like he’d brought cannon fodder this time—these were high-tier units. Tier 13s and 14s. Losing half of them? That was a serious blow.

But what could he do?

They were up against a Dungeon King.

If he could take down a Dungeon King without suffering any losses, he wouldn’t be stressing over the upcoming Faction Wars.

Anyone with the kind of power to casually crush a Dungeon King...

That kind of strength would be more than enough to breeze through the faction conflict.

Unfortunately...

His Emerald Castle wasn’t quite there yet.

"My Lord, even though we took heavy losses, Malenthia’s dragon legions and that Shadow Matriarch army—they got hit even harder!" Balthazar said, his voice rising with a mix of excitement and pride. "Their casualties are probably double ours."

And honestly, he wasn’t wrong to sound proud.

For them, death in battle was just part of the job. It was war—people died. But as long as they had Creature Dwellings back home, they could always bring troops back. Spend some resources, wait a bit, and boom—revived, re-recruited, ready to fight again.

It was just a matter of time and slots.

No big deal.

But winning a battle like this?

That meant everything.

They’d gone up against Black Dragons, Red Dragons, and thousands of terrifying Shadow Matriarchs—and not only held their ground, but crushed them. Their losses were half of what the enemy suffered. If that wasn’t something to be proud of, what was?

"Yeah, I know," Ethan said, his voice steady but serious. "You’ve all done well. But from here on out, I want you to be careful. We’ve come this far—I don’t want to see any more unnecessary deaths. Stay sharp, and finish this with the least cost possible."

Balthazar nodded immediately, his eyes gleaming. "Understood, my great Lord. From this point on, it’s time for the Emerald Castle army to unsheathe the blade!"

At this point, Malenthia’s dragon legions were down to maybe 200 or 300 units at most. The Shadow Matriarchs? Maybe 1,500 to 2,000 left.

Sure, those were still decent numbers—but for a force like theirs, led by 14-Tier Mythic Ace Units and Crimson Ultimate Heroes like Kaiin and Orryn?

That was nothing.

In fact, if they really wanted to, Ethan could probably just let the three of them—Balthazar, Kaiin, and Orryn—handle the rest on their own.

Both Kaiin and Orryn were already past level 50. They hadn’t hit their second awakening yet, but they were close. Very close.

Two nearly-awakened Crimson Ultimate Heroes, plus a 14-Tier Mythic Ace Unit? That kind of lineup could grind down the enemy forces without breaking a sweat. It’d take time, sure—but they’d win. No question.

But there was no need to drag it out.

"My Lord, we’re heading out!" Balthazar called, then turned and charged forward, leading his Ancient Behemoths and Behemoths into the fray.

His kind were born for war. Bloodlust ran in their veins. And after everything they’d been through, they were already boiling over with battle frenzy. If Ethan hadn’t been there to hold them back, they probably would’ve kept fighting nonstop.

"Master, we’re going too," Orryn said.

"Go," Ethan replied with a nod.

Orryn and Kaiin both gave a sharp salute.

"At your command!" freeweɓnovel~cѳm

"At your command!"

Then they each led their forces into the battlefield, charging toward the remnants of the enemy army.

Their roles were already clear.

Balthazar and Kaiin were both targeting the Black Dragon and Red Dragon legions.

Only Orryn and his Green Dragon forces had a different mission:

The Shadow Matriarchs.

Earlier in the battle, things had been too chaotic. No one had the time or space to deal with the Shadow Matriarchs properly. They’d hung back, just outside the main clash, raining down devastating spells like a death machine from hell.

No exaggeration—at least 70% of Emerald Castle’s casualties had come from them.

That’s the kind of raw destruction a powerful magic corps could unleash on a battlefield. They were like a living meat grinder—cold, efficient, and terrifying.

But now?

Now the tide had turned.

The battle was decided. The momentum had shifted. The war was theirs to finish.

And that meant it was finally time to deal with the Shadow Matriarchs.

At range, they were nightmares—unstoppable engines of magical death.

But up close?

They were nothing but fragile dolls beneath the claws of the Green Dragon legion.

...