The Alliance was now scrambling hard. Spirit Saints from each superpower went to their positions, taking a few dozen elite Spirit Venerates and Spirit Emperors with them and were ready to charge into the floating towers with everything that they had. Of course, not all members of the Alliance were committed to the Payircis raids. A select few were floating up in the skies, earnestly watching the progression of their raid forces while keeping watch over the Tree of Darkness for any sudden movements.

Heaven’s Gate was about to be opened and the only way to stop it was to destroy the Payircis supplying the spiritual energies. Thus, it was natural for the Black Masks to defend the floating towers with everything that they had, unlike the four Payircis that fell to the Alliance. Given the amount of Umbras that were congregated at that small area and the vast amounts of movement within said Payircis, Raphael’s assumption wasn’t too far from the truth.

“The pieces are now set in place...” The Alliance Head gulped. Less than fifteen minutes had passed since he’d delivered the news to Shin. All of the raid forces were joined by at least one Spirit Saint with a horde of elites from each respective nation backing them up.

“If we fail this and the Allfather wins, we’ll lose our way of life...”

“Don’t jinx it you, moron!” An agitated voice cut into Raphael’s monologue. The familiar elderly swordsman twirled his sword around, showing off its sharp glint with every spin. “We’ll defeat the Allfather for sure! You should be thinking about how we’re going to assimilate back into normal life!”

“Normal life, huh?” Another aged voice echoed out from the side of the Alliance Head. Though the Alliance had divided themselves into raid groups that would destroy the floating Payircis, that didn’t mean that all of their forces were expended.

Saint Geom, Saint Himmel, Saint Althea and Saint Atossa remained on the outside, alongside a handful of the Alliance best Spirit Users, waited patiently on the outside. After all, someone had to monitor the situation from a safe vantage point. Furthermore, they had to protect the raid forces from any external threats that may come from the Tree of Darkness.

“Can we really return to normalcy after this?” Saint Himmel wondered out loud. Though his words were soft, everyone who surrounded him were able to make out the soft noise without straining their ears.

The three Spirit Saints all dropped their faces, not really willing to meet Saint Himmel in the eye. The Allfather and the Black Masks were a bane to humanity, there was no question about that. Just looking at the number of lives lost and the amount of suffering it has caused… The Black Masks were easily one of the most villainous organisations that humanity had ever produced.

However, the Black Masks’ existence wasn’t without merit. The three superpowers were at constant loggerheads, with either one of them trying to step over the other when the opportunity arises. Although wars were barred due to their peace treaty, random skirmishes were unavoidable. Battles would unfold every single year with hundreds, if not thousands enlisted to fight for phoney wars that made no sense.

Bigotted people would become prominent voices during those ‘peaceful’ times. Lantis Republic loyalist would look down on the Kori Federation and Himmel Empire, for their dependency to fertile land. Kori Federation racists would physically and mentally abuse any that didn’t follow their ways, and that included some immigrants from other countries such as the Lantis Republic and the Himmel Empire. And finally, the Himmel Empire wouldn’t even spare a glance at their two mighty neighbours, doing all that they can to further their influence, even if it meant destroying regular lives from the Kori Federation and the Lantis Republic.

The three superpowers were in a fragile balance of power, one that would topple with a single blow to their foundations. But then… The Black Masks came.

With the Black Masks, the three superpowers were forced to set aside their differences. The Black Masks didn’t care if a person was from the Lantis Republic, Himmel Empire or the Kori Federation. There was only the creed. You could either stand with the Black Masks or lay flat in your grave.

The Allfather’s troops terrorised the world targetting the establishment especially. They wanted to create anarchy and didn’t care about the number of lives lost in doing so. To them, the Allfather was their ticket to greatness, to eternal life. They didn’t care if the world was destroyed in pursuing that dream. Even if a young baby was maimed or an elderly woman was beheaded, the Black Masks would kill anything that barred their path to immortality.

Which was what made them so dangerous.

Due to that threat, the three superpowers had become the Alliance. With a common enemy, everyone was forced to band together to fight off the threat to humanity. Kori Federation members were forced to interact with Himmel Empire troops. Himmel Empire soldiers were forced to break bread with Lantis Republic sailors. Lantis Republic elites were forced to rub shoulders with Kori Federation commonfolk.

Bit by bit, the walls that separated the men and women of the three superpowers were removed, and they were slowly getting accustomed to one another.

So, the question was… What happens when that enemy was removed?

Would the world move forward in a better direction? Would it revert back to the way things were as racists and bigots would be born yet again? Would the three superpowers go back to their bickering ways? Would the world become unstable as more wars broke out between humanity?

No one knows for sure.

“Normal ways… That would be for the younger generation to decide...” The Himmel Ancestor sighed, his eyes darting towards the blue Payirci. He watched as Shin led Guardian Sword, a mixture of elites from all three superpowers which included his very own successor, into the open entrance of the floating tower.

In the past, it was unimaginable for the Himmel Ancestor to allow Isadore into a foreign organisation, particularly one that allowed Isadore to use his powers for the benefit of an entity that wasn’t the Himmel Empire. After all, the Spirit of Himmel was a Spirit that was only inherited by those of the Himmel bloodline, and it was exclusively used to protect the Imperial Family. Yet, Isadore was now one of the seven leaders of Guardian Sword and wielded his might not for the Himmel Bloodline, but for the benefit of all mankind. It was a surreal experience for the Himmel Ancestor, given how strict he was in following the rules and traditions set by his predecessors.

“Hah… My fellow Saints. We’re just the old guard.” Saint Himmel spoke with a tinge of despondence in his voice. He looked at the three Spirit Saints that stayed behind to accompany him with a cracked smile that said a million words. “We’re not the ones who will decide whether the world reverts back to normal.”

At that moment, thousands of shadows emerged from the ashen ground that was covered with thick smog. Some took the shape of human warriors, others imitated the figure of random Spirit Beasts that the cultivation world was familiar with. However, no matter the shape or size, the Umbras had one specific motive in mind. Groaning like the mindless beasts they were, the Umbras hobbled their way towards the five Payircis.

“We’re not the ones who will decide anything, but...”

The Himmel Ancestor swung his right hand to the side, and a glorious silver spear morphed itself into existence. Without looking at his weapon, the Himmel Ancestor sent a surge of mana into the sealed spear, unveiling the flag that hid beneath its tip. Fluttering in the wind, the Himmel Emblem shone brightly for all to see and like a beacon that called all warriors, the Himmel Ancestor’s Spirit summoned out a full astral army.

Spearmen, swordsmen, archers, calvary… A thousand fully armoured knights glimmered into existence, imposing upon every living soul with their towering presence. The Himmel Ancestor didn’t need to give the order. Once they came to life, the warrior burst onto the battlefield, splitting into five battalions and went to the five Payircis respectively.

Some Umbras resisted the armoured knights, but it was to no avail. Each one of the warriors were at the level of a Rank 60 Spirit King, and even if they were to be killed, they would instantly reform themselves with the mana provided by the supreme leader. They were the true Immortals of the battlefield, undying and relentless, as compared to their blackened counterparts.

Saint Himmel smiled as he turned to his slightly stunned Spirit Saints. That old, steel-face that hadn’t changed in a hundred years suddenly softened up as he said:

“We can’t decide the future… So we must protect the ones that can.”