School Transmigration: I, Chosen as the Saint by Dragons at the Start-Chapter 105 --The Descent of a Deity

"Nothing left to say." Owen dropped these words, suddenly launching an attack.

Radiating golden light from his hand, he slapped Quincy directly on the head.

Stanbeck, his eyes red, intercepted Owen with his sword.

"Stop, I must obtain the Heart of the Ocean," Stanbeck declared, his body riddled with wounds inflicted by the black protodragon.

Despite the blood gushing from his injuries, he showed no fear.

As a prodigy of the sea race, nurtured with their resources, he believed it was his duty to offer his life for the sea race if necessary.

Owen, not wishing to expend more effort than needed, had no desire to engage in conversation.

The arcanergy within his body churned, causing an instant change in the atmosphere.

Dark clouds gathered, filling the sky with a suffocating tension.

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning tore through the sky, followed by a thunderous roar that echoed through the heavens.

It was as if the gods were enraged, with furious thunder rolling in the sky like wild dragons, their teeth bared and claws extended, plunging toward the earth.

The speed of the lightning was incredibly fast, slicing through the air and whipping up a fierce wind.

Dust from the ground was lifted, creating swirling sandstorms.

Trees, battered by the violent wind, swayed precariously, as if they would be uprooted at any moment.

The oppressive force of the descending thunder grew stronger, making it seem as if the whole world was trembling.

black protodragon raised its head to observe the thunder: "A thunder-based spell, this Gold Divine Dragon seems to have a diverse array of skills."

Boyd, witnessing Owen’s use of magic for the first time, realized something profound.

Before, Owen had only engaged in physical combat, which hadn’t left a deep impression.

But now, in this moment, Boyd understood just how terrifying Owen could be.

Just then, a massive bolt of lightning descended from the sky, striking directly at Quincy.

The area around Quincy instantly collapsed under the force of the lightning, with boulders scattering and dust filling the air.

The entire ground shook under this immense power, as if it was the end of the world.

Thunder-based Forbidden Spell·Thunder Resonance.

When Owen acted, he did so with staggering impact.

Even black protodragon lowered its head, curious to see whether Quincy had survived the devastating attack.

Ignoring the gasps of shock around him, Finn’s mind raced.

With the Blood Ritual Magic Array already activated and about to take effect, he pondered his next move, searching for a path to survival.

His gaze fell on the Ambition Army’s commanders, who hadn’t strayed far and stood like guards around them.

Finn’s eyes darted around, and he bellowed, "Attack—charge towards the Heavenly Thunder Magic Array!"

In the past, such a reckless command would have left the Ambition Army’s commanders bewildered and stupefied.

But now, these ghosts, devoid of consciousness and acting solely on military orders, were the only remnants of their will.

Thousands of spectral warriors turned in unison, converging around their commanders.

They charged relentlessly towards the Heavenly Thunder Magic Array, with Finn following closely behind.

Soon, thousands of spectral warriors collided with the magic array and vanished into smoke.

The sight of tens of thousands of ghosts assaulting the magic array was spectacular.

The entire array was shrouded in mist, with only the blood-red eyes of the spectral warriors flickering eerily, sending shivers down the spine.

The scene was truly awe-inspiring, like a dam bursting, the sound of their hooves thundering.

The Heavenly Thunder Magic Array trembled under the assault, its lightning flickering uncertainly, clearly struggling to maintain its strength.

Finn’s heart leaped with joy, knowing his decision was the right one.

Without hesitation, he roared, "Continue, charge!!"

The commanders of the Ambition Army, their eyes blazing with blood-red fury, echoed his command with a howl towards the sky, a sound Finn and his companions could not hear.

However, from a distance, numerous claps of thunder rolled in, as dark clouds stretched endlessly, unseen.

Finn and his companions gasped in astonishment at the sight before them.

The sky was filled with ghosts, all armed with lances and swords, a mix of cavalry and infantry.

The first three rows of ghosts barely had time to emit a roar before they turned into ashes.

Successive ranks filled their places without a moment’s hesitation.

Thunder roared in the sky, but the number of spectral warriors began to diminish.

Finally, under the relentless assault of the seventh row of ghosts, the Heavenly Thunder Magic Array, fragile like a film on a boiled egg, quivered and burst with a soft ’pop’.

Finn didn’t wait a second longer; he leaped out of the magic array.

Just as he stepped out, agonizing screams filled the air behind him, as if souls were being dragged into hell by malevolent demons.

Turning back, Finn witnessed a chilling scene: the Blood Ritual Magic Array’s crimson light shot towards the heavens, its voracious glow reminiscent of a ravenous demon.

Thirty or so masters of the sea race, slower to exit the magic array, were suddenly struck down, collapsing as if drained of all strength.

In the next second, their skin rapidly caved in, deflating like leaking balloons.

Within three seconds, they were reduced to skin and bones, their nails falling off, their hair turning white as snow, like lifeless, withered straw sucked dry of vitality.

Finn saw one of the sea folk reach out a hand towards those around him for help, his hand already outside the magic array.

But his head had turned into a skull, eyes bulging grotesquely.

Finn wanted to lend a hand, but ultimately withdrew.

The man’s eyes rolled out of their sockets and slid far away, eliciting panic in the bystanders.

They all hastily avoided the eyes, fearing the residual power of the blood ritual might latch onto them.

Phyllis, strikingly beautiful yet ruthlessly efficient in her actions, was quick to react.

Transforming her hand into a blade-like form, she flung arcanergy and sent a seaturtle master flying.

However, the seaturtle’s lower body was already ruined, with a third of its shell turned to charred remains, leaving it wailing in agony on the ground.

As the crimson light of the magic array faded, all that remained within were a dozen skeletons dressed in clothes, their hair fluttering in the wind.

Unbeknownst to all, a white light ball had mysteriously appeared amidst them.

Before anyone could get a clear look, the ball of light vanished as swiftly as it appeared, plunging into the well.

Confusion and terror engulfed the group as the myriad of ghosts followed the fleeting light into the well.

Being incorporeal, they entered the well in a disorganized stream.

Soon, not a single ghost remained in the entire temple, only the heavy breathing of the survivors.

Finn, still shaken, cursed inwardly: "Where did that villain Quincy come from, daring to plot against me like this? That scoundrel truly deserves to die." Even if he was slow to catch on, it was now clear to him.

This was all but a devious scheme orchestrated by Quincy.

Beside Phyllis, a member of the seaturtle race trembled, his body shaking her skirt.

Finn glanced over and said, "He can’t be saved. The power of the blood ritual is still consuming his body. Give him a quick end."

Phyllis’s face, usually radiant, was now ashen.

She gave a meaningful look to a sea race master beside her.

With gritted teeth, the master knelt down, patted the seaturtle’s neck gently, and then, with a flash of arcanergy on his blade, swiftly ended the seaturtle’s life, whose eyes remained wide open in death.

Phyllis parted her lips slightly, closing her eyes to take a deep breath.

Saving the sea race master from the magic array had only prolonged his suffering, and in the end, he couldn’t escape death.

When Phyllis reopened her eyes, the panic in them had dissipated, replaced once again by a calm demeanor.

Without hesitation, she leaped and descended into the well.

The Heart of the Ocean was a must-have for their sea race.

The remaining sea race masters, without time to grieve, followed her into the well.

At that moment, with a clang, Quincy’s beast-headed staff fell to the ground, drawing everyone’s attention.

Before they could react, it suddenly flew up and plunged into the well.

Berkeley raised an eyebrow and asked, "What do we do now?"

Finn, clutching his sword tightly, gritted his teeth and declared, "Mr. Owen is still down there. We will follow suit."

...

At that moment, a glimmer of light pierced through the ruins.

Something flew towards Owen, who swiftly dodged.

In this orb of light, Owen felt an inexplicable oppressive force, reminiscent of the God of Sea phantom summoned by Stanbeck.

However, this time, the mental pressure emanating from the light was purer and more terrifying.

"The ivory carving – it must be that ivory carving," Owen thought.

Despite the great effort, had they still failed to interrupt the God Descending Spell? Were Finn and the others in danger?

Owen fell silent, a storm brewing in the depths of his eyes.

Simultaneously, the tightly shut eyes of the ivory carving snapped open!

With a crisp sound, the carving shattered, releasing a beam of white light that fluttered and circled in the air, seemingly hesitant.

Boyd, appearing again at Owen’s side, wondered aloud, "Is this the god summoned by Quincy?"

Owen’s face remained expressionless, his suspicions mirroring Boyd’s.

This entity was far more sophisticated than what Stanbeck had summoned.

The orb of light clearly possessed its own consciousness.

In contrast, Stanbeck’s God of Sea phantom seemed more like an amplification of the summoner’s power, lacking any autonomy.

black protodragon spewed flames at the white light, which, although seemingly drifting, skillfully dodged each time.

Movement stirred in the ruins of the underground pit.

Quincy, looking at the white light, shouted with all his might, "Oh deity above, you have finally arrived."

With that, he lifted the unconscious Stanbeck beside him.

Owen’s pupils constricted sharply.

He finally understood why Quincy had been sparring with Stanbeck.

The coming of the deity required a vessel.

Stanbeck was to be the vessel – or rather, the weapon – for the deity’s descent.