The Seven Sisters and Their Hidden King-Chapter 412: Stamp it into Pieces

Seeing this, the faces of the Kingslayer alliance's soul realm warriors darkened. How could they have anticipated this? Their victory had seemed inevitable, but the situation had been completely upended by the unexpected shield. Their confidence shattered in an instant.

Alex, his pride wounded, swung the Excalibur with all his might, but the blade couldn't even make a dent in the shield. His face contorted with frustration. "Shit!" he cursed under his breath, his grip tightening around the hilt.

Squeak! Squeak!

In the midst of the chaos, a young figure walked calmly through the crowd. The crisp sound of his footsteps on the snow drew everyone's attention. It was John, who had suddenly distanced himself from Bruce and begun ascending the mountain with an almost unsettling ease. The shield, despite its formidable power, seemed to have no effect on him. He moved as though walking on flat ground, undeterred by the overwhelming pressure of the soul realm warriors' auras.

Bruce's eyes widened in shock as he watched John ascend the mountain. "John, you..." he began, his voice trailing off in disbelief.

Even the venerable realm warriors, who had been watching the battle with bated breath, couldn't help but be surprised by John's composure. This wasn't supposed to happen. Yet, John climbed the mountain, moving as though nothing were out of the ordinary.

Ignoring the gazes of the onlookers, John reached the top of Mount Oracle and stood before the towering white statue, his gaze silent but resolute. His next actions would send shockwaves through everyone present.

Daniel, the leader of the Australian Ninja League, recognized the significance of this moment. The familiarity he had felt earlier was no coincidence. The young man walking before them was none other than the Oracle King—the very embodiment of the power they had been trying to defeat.

Realization struck him like a lightning bolt. This had all been a trap. The Oracle King had orchestrated everything, drawing them in with false promises and false pretenses, only to destroy them once they had been lured into his domain. His heart seized with terror, but his throat constricted. He couldn't even scream.

Alex, on the other hand, had no idea who this young man was, though a sense of unease stirred within him. He could sense that something was terribly wrong, but he couldn't pinpoint what. "Who—are—you?" he demanded, his voice booming across the battlefield.

John didn't answer. His eyes remained locked on the statue before him. Without warning, he leapt into the air, landing directly on top of the stone statue. The act, as simple as it seemed, sent shockwaves through the crowd below.

The martial artists of the US were struck silent at first, but then rage bubbled to the surface. The statue was their Majesty King's symbol, a sacred representation of all they held dear. To step on it like this was an unforgivable act of blasphemy—a blatant insult to the very core of their beliefs.

"Traitor!" they shouted in fury, their voices laced with venom. "Traitor!"

Bruce, his face contorted with rage, could barely contain himself. The betrayal cut deeper than anything else. John had been a person he had considered an ally, but now he was nothing more than a traitor in his eyes.

But John's actions were far from finished. With a single stomp, he crushed the stone statue's head. A sharp crack echoed across the battlefield as a deep fissure split the statue in half, cutting down the middle from head to toe.

Boom! Boom!

The massive statue crashed to the ground, splitting apart with a resounding noise that seemed to shake the very foundations of the mountain.

The world fell silent. It was as though time itself had stopped.

The martial artists of the US were livid, their faces contorted with fury, disbelief, and grief. Their last symbol of hope had been destroyed, not by the enemies they had been preparing to face, but by one of their own. A traitor, someone they had trusted and fought alongside.

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The silence stretched on, heavy with the weight of betrayal. The US martial artists could only stare in horror as the last of their faith was shattered before them.

This moment would haunt them forever.

John, the Oracle King, had stamped their last belief into pieces.

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