Multiversal Ascension-Chapter 124: A Goddess’s Growing Interest

The silence that followed was suffocating. None of the archers dared to move, not even to breathe too deeply. They weren't alone in their terror—the entire army understood now. If Mikael had wanted to, every single one of them could have been dead already.

They weren't warriors. They weren't even soldiers.

They were nothing more than insects caught in a spider's web.

Mikael's voice rang out once more, his tone cold, merciless.

"This is your last chance. Surrender, or next time, I will not limit my judgment to just your leaders. I will personally ensure that every single one of you pays the price."

The weight of his words settled over them like a heavy storm cloud.

"I surrender..." a voice trembled out.

"Don't kill me—I surrender!" another quickly followed.

Like a plague, the surrender spread. The sound of weapons clattering against the ground filled the air, iron and steel ringing out in a chaotic symphony of defeat. One by one, the soldiers dropped to their knees, pressing their foreheads to the dirt in complete submission.

Only the archers remained standing, their bodies frozen in place with Mikael's aura threads still grazing their necks.

Mikael watched the sea of prostrating soldiers before giving a slow, satisfied nod. "A wise choice."

The next moment, the threads at the archers' throats vanished, dissipating into the air like mist. Their legs, weak with fear, gave out beneath them, sending them collapsing to the ground. Without hesitation, they, too, followed the example of their fellow soldiers, bowing their heads low in submission.

Even with the aura threads gone, no one dared to rise.

The memory of them lingered, a silent reminder that a single misstep could end them all.

And so, under the suffocating pressure of absolute power—

The Valden army fell to its knees.

It was an unfathomable sight—seventeen thousand soldiers utterly subdued in mere minutes by only two individuals. A story so surreal that few would believe it, yet it was undeniable reality.

But neither Mikael nor Amelia displayed any emotion. They maintained the facade of divine envoys—beings beyond mortal sentiments, unaffected by the fear and awe surrounding them.

They exchanged a brief glance before Amelia wordlessly drew her bow. A gleaming blue arrow of pure aura materialized on the string, its radiance reflecting in the wide, terrified eyes of the soldiers below. Yet to their relief, she did not aim at them.

Instead, she lifted her bow toward the sky and released.

The arrow streaked upward, a brilliant streak of blue piercing the darkness before—

Boom!

A deafening explosion tore through the silence of the night, accompanied by a dazzling burst of blue light.

This was one of Amelia's experimental techniques—an explosive arrow. Though still in its early stages, the prototype had proven functional.

After the arrow's detonation, Mikael and Amelia merely hovered in silence, waiting. Their gazes bore into the kneeling soldiers, a silent warning to remain still. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

Under the crushing pressure of those unwavering stares, the soldiers did not dare move. Minutes passed, stretching unbearably as the fear Mikael had instilled in them remained fresh. His earlier display—restraining thousands of archers with nearly invisible aura threads—had left a shadow in their hearts.

But what they didn't realize was that the terrifying divine envoy looming above them was utterly exhausted.

The level of control required to manipulate thousands of aura threads simultaneously was monstrous, totally inhuman. Even with Mikael's current strength, the maneuver had mentally drained him. He was tired—very tired. Right now, all he wanted was to collapse into a bed and sleep for days.

Yet despite the exhaustion weighing on him, he had no regrets. The move had achieved its purpose flawlessly. Even now, long after the attack had ended, the soldiers below remained frozen in fear, unwilling to test his limits.

More minutes passed—fifteen in total since Amelia had loosed her arrow. And then—

The heavy gates of Blackthorn Fortress creaked open.

From within, six thousand Rithen Kingdom soldiers poured out, their morale soaring as they charged toward the subdued Valden army.

At the sight, some of the Valden soldiers instinctively scrambled to their feet, hands reaching for their weapons.

But before they could act—

"Stop."

Mikael's voice cut through the air like a blade.

The soldiers flinched, their movements halting on instinct.

His gaze swept over them, cold and unyielding. "The Rithen Kingdom soldiers are here to capture you. If you do not resist, you will not be harmed."

A heavy silence followed. Unease flickered across the faces of the Valden soldiers, but in the end, the fear Mikael had instilled in them won out. One by one, they dropped their weapons, surrendering completely.

The Rithen soldiers wasted no time, quickly subduing the prisoners and taking control of the war camp. However, with seventeen thousand captives, there was a logistical problem—the fortress prisons weren't nearly large enough to contain them all.

As a result, the Valden soldiers were forced to construct makeshift prison cells within the camp under the watchful eyes of their captors.

While most of the Rithen soldiers followed orders, some couldn't help but sneer at their fallen enemies, throwing out mocking remarks. After three years of war, the hatred between the two kingdoms had reached its peak. The fact that they settled for mere insults—without resorting to violence—was already a testament to their discipline.

Mikael and Amelia remained in the air, watching over the process for two full hours. They couldn't afford to leave until every last Valden soldier was secured. If they left too soon, there was a real possibility the prisoners might revolt and massacre the Rithen forces with sheer numbers.

But now, with the situation under control, Mikael's thoughts drifted elsewhere or more precisely to somebody else. He couldn't but wonder about Seraphis and asked himself was she once again watching them?

***

Divine Realm, Seraphis's Temple

Within the celestial expanse of the Divine Realm, a figure of ethereal beauty stood motionless, her golden gaze fixed upon an image shimmering before her. Silky silver hair cascaded down her back, reflecting the divine radiance of her temple. Before her, the veil separating the heavens from the mortal realm parted, revealing the situation below in perfect clarity. Every word spoken, every movement made—nothing escaped her attention.

Once again, her eyes were drawn to him. Mikael. The man she had come to appreciate far quicker than she believed possible.

She observed in silence as he infiltrated the war camp with calculated precision, each step taken with unwavering confidence. A faint nod of approval crossed her lips, a silent acknowledgment of the cleverness behind his strategy. Yet, as her gaze lingered, thoughts swirled within her mind. The three women accompanying him... Were they in a relationship with him?

Kiara's possessive demeanor and Amelia's occasional affectionate gestures during their travels certainly suggested as much. As for Lyra, she wasn't entirely certain, but something within her whispered that the possibility existed. A strange tightness formed in her chest at the thought, an unfamiliar sensation she couldn't quite place.

As they ventured deeper into enemy territory, eliminating high-ranking officers with cold efficiency, she found herself once again approving of Mikael's methods. Many mortals hesitated when faced with the prospect of taking another life. Their hands trembled, their resolve wavered. But he... he was different. There was no hesitation, no unnecessary cruelty—only purpose. He understood what needed to be done and executed it without a change in expression.

Not too soft. Not too weak.

A rare quality among mortals.

And yet, while she observed with growing admiration, she found herself—perhaps deliberately—ignoring the presence of Amelia at his side.

But when the two of them ascended into the air, their figures illuminated by the flickering glow of the battlefield below, and Mikael's voice thundered across the war camp, demanding their surrender...

Something stirred within her.

His presence, the way he stood above thousands, exuding absolute dominance—it was... captivating. She felt the warmth of her own skin, an unfamiliar heat blooming in her chest. And then, the soldiers retaliated. Thousands of arrows darkened the sky, aimed directly at him.

A sharp breath escaped her lips.

"It didn't work..." she murmured, a sigh of disappointment laced in her tone. More mortals would die. And yet, against her better judgment, her golden eyes flickered with a trace of concern. It was irrational. She knew he was strong. She knew he would be fine. And yet...

Then, as if to prove her fears unfounded, he retaliated.

A single, overwhelming display of power. His voice, his aura, his sheer presence crushed the will of seventeen thousand soldiers, forcing them to surrender without any unnecessary massacre. It was an absolute, undeniable triumph of dominance.

Seraphis's breath hitched.

Her fingers instinctively curled against the fabric of her divine robes, gripping tightly. Heat rose to her cheeks, a rare—no, an impossible occurrence. And yet, here she was, her breathing unsteady, her composure shaken.

"This is certainly... something," she murmured, the words barely leaving her lips. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears, the warmth in her body refusing to fade.

It took her a moment—longer than she would have liked—to steady herself. Closing her eyes, she forced a slow exhale, pushing away the unfamiliar sensations until her expression returned to its usual serenity. This was nothing. She simply appreciated this mortal. Nothing more.

Convincing herself of that, she continued watching.

For the next two hours, nothing particularly noteworthy happened, and when Mikael and Amelia finally left Blackthorn Fortress, her attention shifted. With a mere thought, her divine sight swept across time and space, bringing forth another vision—one from two hours prior, centered in Redgate City.

The offensive had unfolded quite differently there.

Kiara and Lyra had infiltrated the city with an almost laughable ease. Had they slipped in unnoticed, it would have been ideal. But no—the two women had done something far bolder. Instead of sneaking through the shadows, they had simply walked through the main gate, blending seamlessly with the flow of people entering the city. Not a single guard stopped them, no suspicion was raised—they had passed through effortlessly, as if the very concept of obstruction didn't exist for them.

Not long after reaching the heart of Redgate, Kiara retrieved her harp, her fingers gliding across its strings with practiced grace. The melody that followed was nothing short of enchanting, its ethereal notes weaving through the streets like an unseen tide. No matter where they stood—whether soldiers, merchants closing shop for the night, or mischievous children lingering past their bedtime—every last person succumbed to its power, their bodies collapsing into a deep, dreamless slumber.

It had taken less than five minutes.

Seraphis's lips parted slightly in silent acknowledgment. In that moment, she found herself doubting whether even Mikael, with all his strength, could have subdued an entire city with such efficiency. A music-based attack of this scale... It was nothing short of extraordinary.

With Redgate rendered defenseless, Kiara and Lyra led the Adamant Guards inside, systematically rounding up every last Valden soldier and securing them within the city's underground cells. Only once the task was complete did Kiara finally release the lingering effects of her melody.

As the civilians stirred from their enchanted slumber, confusion spread like wildfire. The realization that their city had fallen sent ripples of unease through the populace, their anxious murmurs filling the streets. However, the tension gradually eased when Kiara and Lyra were proclaimed divine envoys of the Goddess of Purity and Protection.

Her name alone was enough to temper their fear. Even among the people of Valden—despite knowing she was the patron goddess of Rithen, their enemy—she was still regarded as a benevolent deity. Unlike other war gods who demanded unquestioning loyalty, Seraphis was revered rather than feared, a figure of purity whose divinity transcended the borders of nations.

As she observed the two women—both undoubtedly connected to Mikael—her thoughts drifted away from the unfolding events, drawn instead to the man who had unexpectedly captured her interest.

She had guided mortals for countless ages, watching civilizations rise and fall, yet never before had she felt... this. A strange anticipation, a quiet curiosity, a subtle yet persistent stirring in her chest whenever her gaze lingered on Mikael.

It was nothing.

It had to be nothing.

Shaking off the unwelcome thoughts, Seraphis refocused her attention on the mortal realm, observing as Kiara and Lyra diligently worked to stabilize Redgate. The hours slipped by, yet her divine gaze never wavered. Though the task was tedious, the two women executed it with precision, ensuring the city's transition remained as smooth as possible. Eventually, to Kiara's great delight, their work was finished. With Redgate secured and its people pacified, they finally set out to reunite with Mikael.

Seraphis, however, no longer paid them any mind. As soon as they departed, she shifted her focus once more. Her divine sight pierced through space and time, honing in on Mikael and Amelia.

The moment her vision settled upon them, her golden eyes widened, and a quiet gasp escaped her lips.

"Huh?"

The scene before her was nothing like what she had expected.

Author Note:

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