The Heavenly Demon of Terror-Chapter 320: Edge of the Shattered Skies

Samuel's POV

Everyone had gone their separate ways — Roselle and Nocturne to report back to Nerezza, Owen to face his past, and Henry... probably off drinking somewhere trying to look cool.

I was left standing in the middle of the battlefield, cracks in the earth still steaming from our clash with Ezra. The silence felt unnatural after all that chaos.

I crouched, then pushed off the ground with a burst of power — rock and dust blasted outward as I launched into the sky like a damn cannonball. Hulk-style.

"Damn," I muttered, soaring through the clouds. "That was a good fight. Real sweat, real pain, real blood... Haven't felt that alive in a while."

I landed with a seismic crack atop a jagged cliff overlooking the wastelands. My knuckles popped as I stretched.

"But now what? Where the hell can I test my strength next?"

And then it happened — a sharp chime, followed by a wave of golden glyphs materializing before me.

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[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]

New World Quest Unlocked

Quest: "Trial of the Forgotten Gods"

Location: Ruins of Uroth, beyond the Shattered Crescent

Objective: Conquer the Three Forgotten Shrines. Defeat their guardians.

Warning: Power levels exceed previous thresholds. Recommended for Tier S Entities only.

Reward: ???

Failure: Permanent Erasure

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I raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Now that's more like it."

I tapped the side of the notification and whispered, "Accept."

The glyphs shattered like glass, and in the wind that followed... I swore I heard laughter. Ancient. Wild.

I cracked my neck, eyes gleaming.

"Let's see if these forgotten gods know how to bleed."

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Samuel's POV – En Route to the Shattered Crescent

I walked through the wastelands with purpose, boots crushing bone-dry earth that hadn't seen life in millennia. The wind howled like it remembered what death felt like. The sky above twisted with deep orange and violet hues, like some divine painter had lost their mind.

The map marker from the quest flickered in my vision — leading me beyond the known realms into a place only spoken of in dying languages.

The Shattered Crescent.

"Trial of the Forgotten Gods," I muttered. "Sounds like fun. Hope they scream."

Ahead, the jagged landscape gave way to what looked like broken moonstone craters. Ancient runes floated midair, suspended in spirals like forgotten prayers. Each step closer made my heart thrum harder — not from fear, but anticipation.

The first shrine loomed before me — a colossal archway carved from the bones of a Leviathan, its ribcage forming a passage into black mist. And at its heart stood a guardian.

It wasn't a beast.

It was a man... once.

Or something that had worn the shape of one.

He stood eight feet tall, wrapped in pale armor that bled rust, with six broken wings that twitched behind him. His eyes glowed with molten regret. A twisted halo spun above his head like a blade.

He turned toward me slowly.

"You seek the shrines of the gods long buried," he spoke, voice layered with echoes. "You are unworthy."

I cracked my neck, drawing my blade — black steel, hungry and wild.

"Story of my life."

The runes lit up. The ground cracked. Reality bent.

And then he charged.

Boom.

We clashed like meteors. His spear clanged against my blade, sending shockwaves across the Crescent. I grinned, using my strength to push him back, driving my fist into his ribs. One of his wings shattered like glass.

He roared — celestial energy erupting from his chest — and I was thrown backward, slamming through a jagged pillar.

Blood trickled from my lip. I wiped it and smiled.

"Oh yeah," I breathed. "Now we're talking."

I lunged again — blade coated in voidfire, teeth bared — and the world around us tore with every blow.

This was only Shrine One.

But I was just getting started.