Floating Islands: SSS Gacha Lord-Chapter 55 - Spirit of the Grove

Atlas stood tall at his floating throne, his gaze fixed on where Ashroot Grove awaited.

And then, it began.

The sky before him twisted, clouds writhing as if seized by a violent current. Without warning, the very air seemed to fracture. From above, chunks of land began to descend; others surged upward from depths unseen. They floated, shifted, then clicked into place, like pieces of some massive puzzle aligning themselves by unseen hands.

"So this is the Warfare Zone?" Atlas murmured.

[The battle begins now.]

Atlas’s gaze sharpened as the warfront continued to shape itself. All around Gacha Haven, teleportation portals spun into existence.

"Everyone, to your positions! Let’s show them how ready we are for this challenge!" Atlas shouted.

His command ignited a surge of motion. A fierce rally echoed from every corner of the island.

And then, they came.

Soren hadn’t been bluffing.

From each portal, waves of enemy units began to pour out. Dozens at a time, twelve, fifteen, twenty in a breath, until their numbers swelled to nearly four times the size of Atlas’s own force.

High atop the central watchtower, the great bell tolled once.

Every defender locked into place.

"Just how many battles has he fought, and won, to build a force like this?"

And then came the voice.

"Attack and destroy them!" Soren’s command thundered across the zone.

Soren’s troops echoed their commander’s war cry with a thunderous roar as they surged forward. But they hadn’t even touched the island before the sky lit up.

Flame Beacons activated.

Massive volleys of fireballs screamed down through the air, raining destruction on the approaching forces.

"AAARGHH!!"

"GET DOWN, GET. NO, NO!"

"WE DIDN’T EXPECT THIS MANY!"

The explosions rocked the outer rim of the Warfare Zone, engulfing the first wave of attackers in blazing flames.

"Welcome to Gacha Haven, bastards!"

"Tell your Lord we don’t do surrender!"

"Keep screaming! That’s music to our ears!"

Atlas tightened his grip on the Fang of Infernos, feeling the rising heat of battle course through him. His gaze swept the battlefield.

"Brace yourselves!" he shouted. "Fight fiercely. And destroy our enemies!"

Atlas was ready to jump into the heart of the battle, until something made him stop cold.

Where is Morganna...?

He turned, scanning behind him. But she wasn’t there.

A sudden, bloodcurdling scream snapped his head forward again.

And then he saw her.

Far off to the left, Morganna stood alone, her form wrapped in the fearsome armor of the Bloodshadow Regalia. In her grip was the Bloodkissed Scythe.

In the next breath, she moved. Fast. Too fast to follow.

She spun once, and the scythe swept through the air in a blur of red and black. The frontmost enemy soldier didn’t even have time to scream.

"CONTROL HER!"

"STOP HER. STOP. AAARGHH!"

"RETREAT! GET AWAY FROM THE LEFT FLANK!"

"DON’T LET HER GET CLOSE. SOMEONE DO SOMETH. GAAAAHH!"

Morganna moved like a storm wrapped in shadow. Her footsteps made no sound, her figure flickering between one strike and the next. Blades slashed at her, arrows flew past, but not one touched her.

She was there, then gone. And in the blink that followed, her Bloodkissed Scythe spun once more, cutting through armor and flesh alike.

"Attack! Attack! Take her down!" Soren’s voice thundered across the battlefield.

But it was already too late.

She wasn’t just attacking.

She was ripping straight through his lines, one kill after another. Almost twenty soldiers had fallen, their bodies sprawled across the scorched ground.

Soren’s troops faltered, their formation breaking apart under the weight of her assault. They fought to hold their ground, but none could stop the storm she had become.

At the same time, from the opposite side, Soren’s second wave surged forward. Using the chaos Morganna created, they launched a brutal counterstrike, charging straight into the heart of Gacha Haven’s defenses.

And then, Soren lifted his right hand, as if grasping something that wasn’t there.

Without a word, he slammed it into the ground.

[Spirit of the Grove]

[Summons a guardian spirit from the grove’s heart.]

The ground shook beneath them. Then it appeared.

A massive bear. Spectral and towering, exploded out of thin air. It was twice the size of any normal beast, its glowing form leaving smoky trails as it charged forward. With a deafening roar, it slammed into the battlefield, tearing through the left flank.

Morganna’s nearby allies were scattered like leaves in a storm, flung aside as the beast crushed everything in its way.

The Spirit of the Grove.

A powerful summon, likely one drawn directly from Soren’s Lord System. Just how many more of these monsters he could call forth was impossible to tell. But even one was more than enough to turn the tide.

"Damn, is that the system ability Soren has?" Atlas muttered.

Even with the chaos rising again, Soren’s forces didn’t hesitate.

Flame Beacons rained fireballs down on them, turning the ground to ash, but they kept coming. Fire clung to their armor and boots, yet they pressed on.

The real battle had begun.

Seeing the perfect opening, Atlas reached into his Inventory and pulled out the Stormcaller’s Amulet. With the enemy clustered tightly, pressing toward their frontlines, the timing couldn’t have been better.

He commanded the floating throne forward, rising above the battlefield as lightning began to swirl in the skies above.

Below him, Morganna clashed violently with the Spirit Bear. She struck again and again, but the bear held firm, refusing to fall. But Morganna had been pushed to her edge, and that was what made her terrifying.

"Now... let’s test how devastating this item really is!" Atlas roared.

He raised the Stormcaller’s Amulet high into the air. Energy surged through it, the sigils along its surface glowing a fierce, electric blue.

"Activate the item! Bring down the lightning strikes!"

The sky darkened in an instant. A sharp wind tore through the battlefield, carrying with it the scent of ozone and coming destruction.

Then. BOOM!

A blinding bolt of lightning crashed down, splitting the sky with a scream of raw power. It struck the heart of Soren’s formation, erupting in a dome of light and force that threw soldiers into the air like leaves in a storm.

Then came another strike.

And another.

"GAAAAARGHHH!!"

"THE SKY. IT’S TEARING US APART!"

"HELP ME! HELP. AAAAARGHH!"

"FALL BACK! FALL BA. KRRZZZZZTT!"

And only after the lightning had torn through the battlefield did the thunder arrive.

**

The battlefield roared with chaos. Fireballs from the Flame Beacons fell like meteors, exploding across the ground. Soren’s once-unified army scattered in all directions, their formation broken, their order gone.

"FOR GACHA HAVEN!"

"BRING THEM DOWN!"

"NO MERCY. HOLD THE LINE!"

"MAKE THEM REGRET EVER CROSSING US!"

Only a fraction of Atlas’s warriors had fully entered the melee. At the front, Karian stood like a living battering ram, each swing of his blade carving through enemies too slow to move.

On the left flank, Garen charged like a juggernaut, his shield smashing aside any who stood in his path. And through the cracks between them, Kurogasa moved with ghostlike speed, ending wounded enemies with clean, merciless cuts.

Behind them, the rest of the army held their ground at range. Arrows rained, spells cracked through the air, and traps snapped shut, waiting for enemies to draw too close. The tide of battle clearly shifted in their favor.

And then. It happened.

With one final, whirling strike, Morganna’s scythe cleaved clean through the Spirit Bear’s thick neck. The beast let out a terrible, gurgling growl.

For a breath, the massive creature stood, headless. Then, like ink spilled in water, its form blurred and broke apart, dissolving into dark mist.

For a second, there was silence.

And then, the cry of victory erupted from Atlas’s forces.

"THE BEAST IS DEAD!"

"THEY’VE LOST THEIR MONSTER!"

"PUSH! NOW’S OUR CHANCE!"

Morganna stood at the heart of the battlefield. Around her, Soren’s soldiers faltered, their morale crumbled and their confidence shattered.

But Morganna paid them no mind. She had only one target: Soren. Their lord.

Surely it looked as though Morganna could end this war by herself. But was it truly possible Soren had no hidden weapon, no final trick?

She lunged. The Bloodkissed Scythe shimmered mid-arc, a stroke meant to finish it all.

"Okay... is this really a win?" Atlas murmured.

And then, suddenly, Morganna froze.

The blade hung suspended, mere inches from Soren’s throat.

Her eyes widened, just a fraction.

"What just happened?"

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