Becoming a God Starts with Acting-Chapter 471: Reinforcements

A streak of darkness shot across the sky. The six cardinals, led by Sylus, had now transformed into grotesque shapes, twisting through the air before plunging straight downward.

But before they could reach the ground, magic circles appeared simultaneously, blocking their path.

Nana floated high above. Though her light had clearly been stripped away, the talent that had been with her since birth still remained.

She clenched her fist. The circles of light exploded at once, blasting the six cardinals away.

At the same time, she raised her hand and did what she had always done.

"Aurellan's Blade!"

Her roar thundered through the air. From the center of her body, waves of violent, trembling light surged outward, gathering into a massive form—a queen gripping an enormous blade in her hand. The queen lifted the great sword high, let out a resounding cry, then brought it down in a sweeping strike, slashing straight toward the darkness ahead!

The darkness before her dissolved into thin smoke, vanishing faster than it could gather.

She was like a machine built to eradicate darkness—the only light left in a world slowly losing its own.

The Saintess let out a sound like the shriek of wind. The tentacles behind her coiled violently, propelling her forward. They had a slick, leather-like texture, silver-white in color, with fine down covering their surface. They should have borne the radiance of light, yet now, tainted by darkness, they looked like a mass of gigantic worms writhing endlessly across the torn body of their master.

But the moment the tentacles spread out at once, that immense spectacle blotted out a vast stretch of the sky. The writhing appendages rose high, then sharpened into spikes, ready to pierce anything before them!

At that very instant, however, a streak of pitch-black light flashed past, slicing the tentacles into countless pieces. Feathers scattered through the air before returning to their master.

Cain's skirt fluttered in the wind. His long hair was blown loose, a few strands brushing against his chin. Beneath the dim and overcast sky, his face seemed almost radiant.

Jet-black feathers hovered around him like a host of loyal servants. He lifted a hand, long nails painted in delicate, beautiful colors gliding lightly across his own lips. He smiled and said softly, "Don't be in such a hurry. I'm still here, waiting for you, Saintess."

The words rolled in Cain's mouth as though he had chewed them to pieces before swallowing them down.

Facing the one who had severed her tentacles, the Saintess let out a piercing shriek. Her tentacles writhed at once, regenerating almost instantly before shooting straight toward Cain!

Cain swiftly evaded. The feathers floating around him whirled madly, clashing head-on with the Saintess. The two sides fought fiercely—many of the Saintess's tentacles were cut apart, while Cain's feathers were shattered into countless wisps of smoke more than once.

"Grawww!"

At that moment, a thunderous roar shook the entire earth. From within the cathedral, masses of mangled, pulpy flesh suddenly poured out, black mixed with a sickening green.

They rapidly gathered into clumps. The Pope still retained the shape of his face, but his "skin" occasionally sloughed off and dripped downward. From the neck down, his body began to swell and swell, until by the time it reached his "legs," it had expanded to a radius of more than twenty meters. Everywhere he slithered, whether ordinary people or shadow creatures, all were devoured without a single scrap of flesh left behind.

"Crack! Thud!"

All of a sudden, wings burst out from every part of his body—countless wings, large and small alike. Their base color was clearly pure white, yet now they were drenched in thick black and dark green slime, turning into a revolting, chaotic mass.

The wings moved in unison, lifting the Pope's enormous body into the air. He ignored everything else and charged straight toward the black hole. It was as if he wanted to devour more—eat until he was utterly full, until he had enough strength to fight without end.

But a massive tree branch suddenly appeared, blocking his advance. It surged upward endlessly, as though it had no limit. At its highest point sat Dorian, his beautiful wings shimmering like crystal, slightly raised. His face still carried a gentle expression, more indifferent than concerned.

He looked at the Pope's grotesque form without much disgust in his eyes. Slowly, he lifted his hand. At the same time, a colossal bow of light materialized in his grasp, blazing brilliantly within the dim sky.

"Fwoosh!"

"Whistle! Boom!"

The sound of air being torn apart rang out. A gigantic arrow of light shot forth, striking directly into the center of the Pope. It vanished within him—then detonated, a violent explosion that made the Pope's body seem like an enormous yet fragile sheet caught in a raging wind.

But clearly… he did not die.

From the very center of his body, a storm of energy began to spin relentlessly, gathering and then reversing Dorian's attack—hurling it back toward him!

Dorian's eyes widened. He flapped his wings, moving at a speed so fast it resembled teleportation as he left his original position. At the same time, massive branches surged upward once more, shielding against the returning arrow of light.

"Boom! Crash!"

Two explosions erupted in succession high in the sky.

And on the ground below, because the main forces were all being held back by opponents of equal strength, it quickly became clear that the shadow creatures were relying on their overwhelming numbers to crush everything in their path.

No matter how powerful they were, facing an endless tide of enemies, they could not avoid being pushed into a disadvantage.

Especially now, as the black hole in the sky seemed to receive an additional surge of energy. In mere moments, it expanded even further, and the shadow creatures still trapped inside poured out like a waterfall, carrying an overwhelming force ready to drown everything in its path!

"We need reinforcements!"

Nick roared, unable to stop himself from thinking of the army Silvanus had mentioned.

As if their minds were connected, the entire ground suddenly trembled violently—so fiercely that even the sky itself seemed to sway.

Far away, directly above the Relics of the Hobbit, in the misty region at the edge of Chaosland, the earth quaked repeatedly before splitting apart. Massive chunks of land cracked open, as though awakening the colossal "creature" that had long slumbered beneath the soil.

A streak of light shot into the sky as Silvanus rose from the ground. At the same time, the earth fractured completely, revealing the first iron forms beneath.

Sharp spires thrust upward first. Then came the highest structures of the Hobbit city. Layer by layer, it emerged. A city that housed an entire race and a civilization of machinery was, of course, anything but small—it was as vast as a territory of humans. And the moment it fully rose from beneath the earth, the details of that colossal structure began to shift. In the blink of an eye, it transformed into a Titan, its massive body assembled from iron houses and mechanical architecture—an immense, almost overwhelmingly heavy figure.

Silvanus raised his hand. Before them, surging light tore open into a crack, which rapidly widened—large enough for the entire Titan to pass through.

Light flared brilliantly, powerful enough to drive back the mist at the borders of Chaosland, carrying hope toward the heart of the battlefield.