Celestial Bloodline Chapter 953: The first three Celestials I

Kyle's silhouette suddenly materialized amidst the turbulent warzone, precisely at the core of the hovering domains controlled by innumerable mighty lineages in the Realm, the exact location where Valance and her minions were sowing widespread ruin.

His emergence resembled an icy storm piercing the obscurity that enveloped the region, where myriad clans and Sovereigns clashed fiercely with the undead legions.

None detected his arrival.

Not a single one of the formidable Sovereigns there.

All that anyone could sense was a frosty draft gliding unchecked through the turmoil, carving through each undead—regardless of their might—as though they were mere illusions.

In the following instant, a radiant, towering form at last became visible, hovering directly in front of Valance, who ought to have been safeguarded by layers upon layers of Celestial undead.

Kyle's presence was entirely masked, so nobody nearby entered a stupor at the sight of him. Numerous Clan Heads and Sovereigns battling the undead identified him—their astonishment was immense. After all, just moments before, they had beheld his demise firsthand, observing the silver-haired ice Celestial, renowned in recent times, perish in combat against Valance.

While they had mourned his passing, relief had also washed over them when Valance couldn't locate his soul, assuming it had been utterly annihilated during the confrontation. Indeed, had Kyle's soul been seized by her, the undead born from it would have slain countless among them in an instant. Yet how could someone they had seen die return from beyond the grave?

All those who spotted the well-known silver-haired Celestial were gripped by utter incredulity.

Then, they witnessed Kyle act.

His actions unfolded at a glacial pace—so leisurely that even the frailest Celestials engaged in the fray could have dodged him with ease. However, the events that transpired next caused the spectators' eyes to nearly pop out in sheer astonishment.

The atmosphere itself appeared to undulate with Kyle's motion. Valance—the Sovereign whom nobody had managed to get near over the last two days, barricaded by hordes of undead—remained rooted as his fingers clamped around her throat with chilling, seamless accuracy.

The witnesses' mouths hung agape as he effortlessly broke her neck and extracted her soul like it was insignificant. The Sovereigns loyal to Valance, together with the throngs of undead encircling her, remained paralyzed—incapable of motion—shivering silently while she met her end right in their view.

At that instant, profound quiet enveloped the area, every gaze locked on one lone figure. The suffocating shadow permeating the atmosphere dissipated, supplanted by a whirlwind of sparkling azure snowflakes that whirled and frolicked everywhere, encasing every undead they encountered in ice. It felt as though the whole warzone had yielded to a solitary individual.

Kyle let go of the corpse in his grasp. Without delay, it plummeted into the endless void beneath, his tone a subdued whisper:

"That’s for destroying my fake body."

He spared no effort on the remaining Sovereigns.

After all, now that Valance was eliminated, he trusted that the potent Clan Heads and veteran Sovereigns—who had stepped out of isolation to confront the undead—would manage them. Without hesitation, he vanished in the direction of the Layer of Ancients, fully conscious that Azazeal had roused. And he harbored a deeply ominous feeling that Nathaniel had attained the End as well. Who might prevail over whom was a mystery beyond even nature's foresight, much less the shadows.

The spectators failed to notice Kyle's entry onto the battlefield. Nor did they catch his departure.

The sole evidence of his actual presence—and that the events weren't a collective hallucination—was the persistent scattering of minuscule snowflakes.

And thus, a conflict that appeared fated to drag the entire Celestial Realm into devastation concluded in mere heartbeats.

***

Upon reaching the Layer of Ancients, Kyle was met by a deafening quake that surged outward with ferocious force. But his attention snapped first to the heavens, which blazed alive at that precise instant, saturating the somber clouds with flowing visions that revealed a long-lost, primordial narrative.

He perceived vast plumes of smoke rising afar, weaving through the fog as his awareness stretched, enveloping the whole Layer of Three Ancients. Nevertheless, amid the distant pandemonium, his stare clung to the firmament.

Both Azazeal and Nathaniel were obliterating all in their clash, yet he held motionless. Much like him, the tale persisted in unveiling itself, immune to the havoc nearby.

The age-old legend commenced with three spectral figures—two men and one woman—their chuckles resonating softly through the ages, gathered in an elaborate gazebo hovering amid the clouds.

Encircling the group drifted myriad luminous orbs in varied forms and colors, emitting a gentle, otherworldly light that flickered akin to fireflies, bathing the vista in tranquil peace.

Their domain was exceedingly confined, permitting them only to observe the feeble from a distance. Still, they seemed content within that modest realm.

They were the discoverers of the Celestial Realm—the ones who uncovered the End and acquired dominion on par with Nature, empowered to rule over all creation.

Lacking avarice, they disseminated the route to Celestial ascension among those in inferior planes. This also served to lure more souls into the Celestial Realm they had unveiled, gaining additional allies and comrades in their immense yet solitary expanse.

Yet, contrary to the trio, the fresh Celestials who beheld their immense splendor succumbed to covetousness. How could such individuals content themselves with simple Celestial status when three supreme entities loomed so vastly superior?

Envy consumed them all—resenting that Nature bestowed greater favor on the three, forcing them to labor ceaselessly for the tiniest gains in strength.

Fueled by avarice, these Celestials plotted to usurp the might of the three.

Unable to scale the legitimate ascent, they aimed for the End by plundering the core of the three Sovereigns, who stood nearer to Nature than they did.

Among the original Celestials, the first to perish was the woman. She had placed faith in a kindred Celestial, wedding him sincerely—but upon stepping into his dwelling that day, her Celestial Symbol was brutally torn from her form by her spouse. It was a lily, fragile and spectral. She had merely offered a smile to the one she cherished as her essence was sundered by the surrounding Celestials.

Next to succumb was the Celestial marked by the hourglass emblem.

Detecting his close companion's soul disintegrate, he swiftly attempted to turn back time in her aid. But altering chronology for one utterly erased defied nature. It gravely injured him instead, and in that vulnerable state, he was rapidly felled by the traitors in wait, who had foreseen his bid to rewind time upon a comrade's demise.

As his core was savagely extracted from his frame, he had amassed his strength in his palms and might have vanquished all nearby—but he refrained.

Rather, he bore it steadily, his expression serene. Kyle traced the subtle shifts of his mouth and deciphered the utterance he breathed.

’We vowed to Nature to never injure those frailer than us... Even should you all prove thankless vile curs, we shall not.’