Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God Chapter 2322 Evil

"Wait!"

An abrupt voice rang out, addressing the First White Mother.

Intrigued by whoever had spoken, the First White Mother raised her hand, halting the advancing Sapientia. It proved a fascinating spectacle. They weren't pondering their leader Aritzia's location at all; instead, they obeyed someone who ought to be a stranger. However, perhaps she had never truly been an outsider from the outset.

"Speak. What do you wish to say?"

The First White Mother showed no pretense of superiority. To her, this was merely fulfilling her duty. Emotions like contempt or arrogance were far below her level.

Shockingly, it was Ancestor Haven, leader of the Sprite Hegemon, who had interrupted.

"Don't my Sprites align with your beliefs as well? The Heavens grant us our talent, and our cultivation relies solely on the natural gifts they provide. So why should we perish alongside the rest?"

"Who claimed you must die?" the First White Mother replied straightforwardly. "Should you choose to stand for righteousness, I'd welcome you openly."

Ancestor Haven's eyes sharpened. "Then why haven't you offered this chance before? Not even to your own First Brother?"

Though tempted to switch allegiance, Ancestor Haven wasn't naive. Such betrayal would earn him widespread resentment. Moreover, defectors like him would likely hold insignificant positions in the new group, at best superficial duties.

Thus, he had to confirm two key points. First, grasp Abraxus and the First White Mother's true aims. Second, ensure defection would safeguard his people. Without that assurance, he'd battle to the death right here.

Yet, he couldn't reveal this outright. Subtle, indirect questions served better than blunt ones.

"I understand my First Brother's character perfectly. If he and his women lay down weapons and reform, they'll be spared without doubt. Still, certain sacrifices can't be avoided. Halting my First Brother's Empress from oppressing the Mortal Plane was unfeasible, so eliminating her outright became the optimal path."

Ancestor Haven fixed his gaze on the First White Mother for an extended moment before stepping ahead.

"The Sprite Hegemon stands ready."

Upon hearing their Ancestor's declaration, the sprite warriors trailing him bowed deeply in unison, aligning behind their sovereign. As Hegemon Ancestor, his solo decisions held absolute weight. Besides, they harbored no fondness for humans, for motives echoing the First White Mother's points. Why protect humanity further?

They had believed this fight concerned their survival. Now, armed with truth, what justified further peril?

This defection rattled the leftover Immortal army profoundly. Abraxus, Haven, and Elise ranked as their top three powers. Two had now departed, leaving just one.

"You've picked wisely, Haven." Abraxus remarked with a sly grin. Yet, paired with the blood soaking his flowing white robes, it stripped away his former affable charm.

"Think I won't run you through with my blade this instant?" Haven snarled. "Is this the 'good fortune' you found in the Chaos Ruins?"

Abraxus laughed lightly but offered no straight reply. To Haven, that silence equaled admission.

Then, yet another voice echoed suddenly.

"I've awaited this moment far too long."

None anticipated the last powerhouse from the Mortal Empire's forces advancing precisely then. She even led her followers across the battle lines without prior word to the First White Mother.

Ancestor Elise's deeds proclaimed the phoenixes' longstanding opposition.

A faint smile graced the First White Mother. "Your Phoenix Clans have given the most for our righteous path. I offer my deepest gratitude."

Elise flashed a captivating smile, striding to Abraxus and linking her arm with his.

Mortal Plane survivors trembled in horror. Everyone knew the scarcity of universes stemmed from Dark Phoenixes' rampage. Never had they imagined Fire and Ice Phoenixes' inaction meant quiet approval.

"We merely fulfilled our duty." Elise replied softly.

Thus, nearly half the Mortal Empire's troops had defected. Panic now gripped the rest inescapably.

Ysabell clenched her teeth, wavering.

Among holdouts, didn't she hold the strongest grudge against Dyon? That ancient slight lingered; how could she forgive his humiliation before her kin?

Yet, the First White Mother's words bred doubt. Her clan had ushered in the Soul Cultivation era's end. Would they truly embrace elves so readily?

Glancing at Ancestor Godefray of the angels, she sensed his identical turmoil.

Steelingly her resolve, she stepped forward anyway. Trailing Godefray would diminish her defection's rewards.

"I seek acceptance for my Elven Hegemon too. Consider that our rift with the Dwarves arose exactly from clashing views on Heavenly resources. We aimed to nurture and bolster nature; they sought to exploit it selfishly.

"Though this Ancestor's Elven Hegemon falls short of your ideals, we won't obstruct the emerging world order and pledge to adapt accordingly."

The First White Mother regarded Ysabell in prolonged silence, heightening her anxiety. Unlike prior crossers, she dared not proceed rashly.

"Swear to dismantle your cultivations post-battle, and acceptance is yours without issue." She responded calmly at last.

Ysabell's heart jolted at the demand, but options were nil. It would relegate her Elven Clan to the lowest rung, yet retreat was impossible now.

"… I agree."

Elves paled, yet like other Hegemons' followers, their Ancestor's command was binding. Choice had vanished.

Post-elf crossing, the First White Mother scanned the steadfast remnants, as if inviting more. Silence blanketed the field, but tension thickened the air oppressively, choking even breaths.

Astonishingly, none else advanced.

Ysabell had utterly misjudged Godefray. His shivers stemmed not from indecision, but from facing a long-dreaded foe at last.

Regrettably, their ace for this hour—Emytheus—remained unripe…

Dyon's wives entertained no treasonous notions. Rage blazed in their gazes amid streaming tears. Madeleine, their revered elder sister and cherished family, had fallen to these very hands.

"Your choices are set, so no further words. Spare none." The First White Mother commanded coldly.

The ferocious assault reignited, surging like a blade slashing heavenward.

Suspense? None. Trillions clashed against scant millions. Beyond numbers, raw power disparity bred infinite hopelessness.

Lacking Heaven's restraint, they were frail mortals against Immortal Deities. Victory? Impossible.

Yet, unforeseeably, the mighty horde screeched to a halt solely due to one man's arrival.

Blood saturated his garb entirely. Even his dangling bare feet in void space shed crimson droplets rhythmically, each fall seizing their pulses.

Black flames engulfed his hair. Lifeless, vacant eyes stared at the trillion-strong foe. Scythe clutched in one hand, chain in the other, he hovered like a drifting cadaver.

Mere one individual, yet vanguard foes froze mid-step.

Abruptly, a harrowing wail pierced the heavens, evoking a raven's death throes. Darkness deepened as his head reared back, eyes morphing into swirling black voids.

Terror seized them. All felt profane, shadowy… Death dominated every thought.

Kill.

An invisible barrier isolated him from all. Neither rear 'allies' nor front 'foes' could approach.

No matter. Instantly, he rocketed forth as pure shadow.