Celestial Bloodline Chapter 966: You forget?

"Void of Silent Darkness."

The culmination of Kyle’s sword art, the fourth and final move, was deeply entwined with the very darkness Azazeal commanded, possessing the terrifying ability to obliterate anything.

He had skillfully imbued this strike with multiple dark natural laws—Death, Darkness, Decay, and Oblivion. These forces flowed along his blade's edge as he channeled the chilling essence of his Celestial symbol. Consequently, after the sword descended, the sheer magnitude of converging powers pushed even Kyle backward from the immense recoil.

The seven figures confronting Kyle instinctively sought to evade the devastating attack, their resolve unwavering, yet one of them was still struck.

Kyle drew a ragged breath, a frosty plume escaping his lips as he observed one of the seven bodies being cleanly bisected from shoulder to torso. His brow furrowed in thought. After all, the power he had just unleashed was meant to annihilate anything it touched, reducing it to absolute nothingness. However, in the case of Azazeal, the body was merely split in two.

Abruptly, the severed halves began to twitch.

Then, a surge of darkness erupted from the two parts, writhing as if attempting to rejoin them.

But allowing such a recovery was out of the question for Kyle.

Disregarding the barrage of attacks from the remaining six figures, he instantly lunged forward. His movement was so impossibly swift that it appeared to rend the very fabric of time and space. In a mere instant, he reached the bisected body, his hand thrusting towards the fragment of dark soul that sustained it, intent on forcefully extracting it. The moment his fingers made contact, a potent wave of dark power burst forth from the dark soul, lashing out like a living entity. It managed to strike him, with thin tendrils of blackness seeping into his fingertips, spreading like a virulent poison.

Yet, before the dark corruption could advance further, familiar frigid flames ignited around Kyle. The pale fire instantly froze whatever it touched. In a flash, the struggling body was encased in a perfect, unblemished sculpture of ice.

Under the gaze of wide, obsidian eyes covered by a layer of frost, Kyle tightened his grip and ripped the soul from within its frozen prison.

The instant the soul was extracted, the frozen body before Kyle lost all its life force.

It silently fractured under his power, then disintegrated into countless minuscule snowflakes.

Concurrently, the other six figures attacking him emitted howls of pure agony.

Amidst these pained cries, a low, sickening sound of tearing flesh suddenly echoed.

Kyle spat out a mouthful of blood and glanced at his left shoulder. His body shuddered at the sight of a straight, clean cut. Blood gushed from the wound as the arm below the shoulder, the one wielding his sword, was severed cleanly from his body and plummeted to the ground.

The strike had been so sudden and ferocious that a scream tore involuntarily from his throat. Instinctively, Kyle clutched his injury and enveloped himself in a protective barrier of cold to ward off the subsequent onslaught.

The power of his Celestial symbol surged forth, initiating the regeneration of his wound. First, a chilling wave of energy radiated from the injury.

Instantly, a lattice of white bone formed from the cold, followed by veins, flesh, and flawless skin, knitting a new arm onto his body at a speed visibly astounding to the naked eye.

Kyle’s face had become somewhat pale as he registered the sharp sting of the attack he had just endured. He had to concede—it was far from a pleasant experience. And to think that the pain Azazeal must have felt when his own body was cut in half was even greater than this.

He was forced to acknowledge that Azazeal's pain threshold was genuinely higher than his own.

Although he had long become accustomed to enduring pain, certain abrupt strikes still took their inevitable toll.

Groaning, he hastily encased the writhing soul fragment in his right hand within a crystal of ice, conjured another large sword from the frozen material, and struck back at the six figures clawing at him. Two of these figures wielded blades formed from pure darkness. It was evident that one of them was responsible for severing his arm.

The fierce battle erupted, moving from one area to another, shattering everything solid in their path. Floating territories, and even the surrounding space itself, fractured and failed to heal in the aftermath. Six streaks of crimson light clashed against a solitary pale glow, creating a terrifying, almost surreal spectacle.

The sheer magnitude of the fight's impact reverberated even across the distant half of the Celestial realm, which remained unfrozen by Kyle’s dominating power.

Countless Celestials congregated around the vast, frozen expanse, desperately trying to comprehend the unfolding events. However, regardless of their individual power, none dared to venture into the frigid domain, with the sole exception of those worried Celestials whose loved ones resided within the frozen lands.

Nevertheless, any who attempted to breach the ice were either instantly frozen solid or violently repelled by its overwhelming cold. Even merely grazing the frigid boundary caused their skin to begin crystallizing into ice. Ultimately, even the bravest could only stand by and observe the frozen expanse, awaiting its eventual thaw.

An entire day elapsed.

A multitude of gazes fixed upon the ice, reflecting emotions that ranged from apprehension and stark fear to fascination and profound seriousness.

Some harbored aspirations of personal gain from the enigmatic spectacle unfolding before them.

Ultimately, nearly every Celestial in the thawed expanses of the Celestial realm had converged near the frozen mass. Low murmurs of unease and conjecture permeated the atmosphere, yet the ice remained utterly unmoved. Not even the most potent flames, fundamental laws, or formidable powers could inflict any discernible damage upon the frozen expanse.

Another day slowly passed.

The penetrating, bone-chilling cold originating from the ice radiated outwards, encompassing all unaffected regions of the Celestial realm.

Even with the suffocating chill, the distant, violent reverberations from the ongoing conflict never ceased.

It served as a chilling memento of the relentless chaos still raging within the vast frozen enclosure.

After two full days, another excruciating cry of agony resonated from the heart of the domain.

Kyle was violently hurled downwards, his form rending through the numerous layers of frost he had conjured to absorb the impact's force.

Even so, his fingers did not relinquish their tenacious grip on the second soul fragment he had forcibly extracted from one of the remaining adversaries, continuing his desperate fight without a single moment of respite.

Blood veiled his vision in a crimson haze, trickling from the corner of his eye, yet he made no move to wipe it away.

As he finally compelled his battered body to halt, his gaze ascended towards the second frozen form in the distance, which then dissolved into a cascade of snowflakes.

One of his legs—along with a section of his torso—had been dismembered during the fierce exchange. Nevertheless, Kyle did not remain grounded for long. Disregarding the searing pain, he forced his blood-drenched form to stand upright. Frost immediately coated his wounds, initiating the healing process.

However, regardless of the swiftness of his recovery, its efficacy was beginning to wane, indicating that despite possessing abundant Qi, his physical and mental fortitude were starting to falter.

The remaining five adversaries surged towards him—their dark eyes bloodshot, the peculiar purple slits on their irises nearly luminous with crimson intensity, their killing intent echoing through the fractured dimension.

Kyle’s trembling physique gradually straightened.

He then raised his blade once more.

"Two vanquished, five remaining."

He observed the onslaught of attacks descending upon him but, strangely, did not attempt to intercept them this time. As a hand plunged into his chest, his lips curved into a faint smile as he met the obsidian gaze of the closest opponent.

"Do you not recall?"

The instant his whisper faded, the entire vicinity erupted in radiant light, suffused with an uncountable number of golden sigils. They spread out like an immense spiderweb, each line and curve emitting an intense brilliance.

The sigils shimmered, radiating an intrinsic, natural power that caused the very air to hum and the earth to tremor under their immense force.

The sudden effulgence compelled Azazeal to shield his eyes. Before he could obliterate the heart clutched in his grasp, the golden sigils pulsed with blinding velocity, instantaneously ensnaring all his disparate forms and forcibly drawing them backward.

Kyle instinctively covered the gaping wound in his chest, expelling blood. A colossal snowflake materialized beneath him, cushioning his descent as he knelt, his eyes fixed on the struggling forms. His voice emerged hoarse as he wiped his lips.

"Haha... you nearly had me."