"You are nothing like the Seraph, and didn't His Majesty Hades slay the Seraph during the last War between Gods and Demons? You must be a fake."

At this moment, Firasde's eyes betrayed a rare flicker of panic as he stared at the transformed Mohan, streaks of ethereal blue light constantly shimmering within them.

Mohan, now clad in the form of the Seraph, let out a strange, low laugh. With a casual sweep of the Creation God Sword in his hand, the blade erupted in a blinding glare, forcing onlookers to shield their eyes—a brilliance exponentially greater than any light Mohan had previously generated. Only then did Mohan look at Firasde and say coolly, "Besides the Creation God, who else do you imagine could unleash the full potential of the Creation God Sword? Do you think you could?" Seeing Mohan’s display, Firasde visibly flinched. Then, with a sudden roar, he raised the World-Ending Demon Spear and charged straight at Mohan, shouting maniacally, "Even if you are the Seraph, today I will see you perish by my Hell Roar!"

With those words, the World-Ending Demon Spear in Firasde's grasp pulsed once more with sanguine light, illuminating the entire sky in crimson. A colossal blood-red beast, even larger than the previous one, manifested before the assembled observers.

Yet, amidst the pervasive red glow, the golden light emanating from Mohan remained spectacularly brilliant, the vast crimson wash failing entirely to eclipse his radiance.

"Firasde, after all this time, you remain so foolish. Do you truly believe your Hell Roar has any effect on me?" Mohan, in his Seraph form, disdainfully eyed the monstrous creature barreling toward him.

As the beast closed in, Mohan slowly raised the Creation God Sword. Despite the seemingly measured movement, Firasde felt an immense, crushing pressure. The sword's radiant edge struck the exact center of the blood-red monster's forehead.

Then came a piercing, agonizing screech from the beast.

Before the fine beam of the sword, the gigantic monster could advance no further. It remained locked in place, an eerie spectacle; no matter how furiously Firasde roared, the blood-red creature could not inch closer to Mohan.

"Firasde, don't you understand yet? Before this Creation God Sword, your World-Ending Demon Spear is nothing more than scrap metal. Are you truly relying on a monster conjured by that spear to defeat the Creation God Sword?" Mohan fixed his opponent with an easy gaze.

Firasde ignored him completely. Instead, Firasde bellowed, and the ethereal blue light in his eyes flared even brighter: "Seraph, today I will defeat you! I will wash away the shame of my defeat at your hands twenty thousand years ago!" Firasde shrieked with frenzy.

As if spurred by his rage, the blood-colored beast suddenly swelled in size, nearly obscuring half the sky, sending a chill down the spines of all who watched. Under the monster’s immense shadow, the sword-gleam from the Creation God Sword began to slowly curve, drawing back toward Mohan.

"Oh, seeking a final, desperate effort," Mohan observed, still wearing that placid expression as he watched Firasde’s action. "Pity. With your strength, even if you fight with all your might, you cannot match me."

Having spoken, Mohan let out a low shout. The golden light surrounding him intensified drastically. Aided by Mohan's will, the previously curving sword-gleam snapped back to its straight trajectory. Then, a blinding flash of golden energy erupted, seemingly engulfing the entire expanse. Between heaven and earth, nothing remained visible but the overwhelming golden light.

When the light subsided, the observers realized the massive blood-red beast had vanished without a trace. Only the dark-armored knight and Mohan remained silently suspended in the air.

Firasde, however, was trembling uncontrollably. He finally roared out in sheer frustration, "Why, after training diligently for ten millennia, am I still no match for you? Why...?"

"Because you are dense..."

Mohan’s reply nearly caused Firasde to plummet from the sky. Regardless, Firasde would not survive much longer. Countless fine threads of golden light began to seep out from Firasde’s body, spreading until they covered him entirely. A tortured scream tore from his throat.

Before long, under the intense golden illumination, Firasde’s form began to blur and fade. As the Seraph Mohan watched the dissipating figure, he spoke calmly, "I hope that in another twenty thousand years, you won't disappoint me again..."

"His Majesty Hades will surely avenge me, Seraph! You know the strength of His Majesty Hades. He is far more powerful now than before! Do you truly believe you can stand against His Majesty Hades? Seraph, even you cannot alter the doom awaiting the Human Race! You lowly creatures, prepare to die here! Hahaha..." With the final laugh, Firasde’s form vanished completely from the sky, leaving only a faint echo hanging above the battlefield.

Simultaneously, below, the battle between Blaze and several members of the Underworld forces was drawing to a close. Though the few Underworld warriors possessed considerable might, they were still far outmatched by Blaze. They had only managed to hold on this long by employing their combined attack techniques, and even so, their resistance was clearly nearing its end.

Blaze roared, "Winds that drift in the sky! Fires that wander the earth! In my moment of gravest peril, I implore your aid! Lend me your strength to vanquish the evil forces, tear apart the shroud of darkness, and reveal the mightiest combination through the will of the Dragon Clan! High-Tier Demon-Subduing Dragon Chant—Blazing Wind Dance!" What Blaze unleashed was an ancient, long-lost High-Tier Draconic Language Magic, its power utterly incomparable to current Draconic Magics.

Intense white light erupted around Blaze, swiftly coalescing into several gigantic white dragons. The sky instantly brightened. Bathed in the glare, the Underworld Generals cried out in pain, their movements slowing. The white light dragons seized the moment of their confusion, swiftly piercing through the chests of the generals before dissolving into the air.

The Underworld Generals convulsed in agony mid-air, and soon followed the fate of their comrades, crumbling into countless specks of dust that vanished into the atmosphere. Below, the allied Human forces erupted in renewed, excited cheers.

Mohan slowly flew to Blaze's side and smiled, "Truly worthy of being the most gifted Dragon of the Dragon Clan, mastering even the High-Tier Draconic Language Magic that was long thought lost."

Staring at the completely altered Mohan, Blaze could only gasp in astonishment, "How can this be? How did you..."

"Heh, don't worry. Let's return, and I'll explain everything slowly," Mohan replied.

With that, the golden radiance around Mohan slowly dimmed, and he returned to his normal appearance. Seeing that everything was stable, Mohan signaled Blaze, and they headed toward Weihai City.

Upon their return, an inquisition was inevitable. Everyone pressed him on why Mohan had suddenly become so powerful and capable of transforming. While the ordinary human soldiers below couldn't clearly perceive Mohan’s transformation, it was impossible to hide from the human powerhouses gathered above Weihai City. Thus, the secret could not be kept.

Through Mohan’s explanation, the assembled group finally understood the truth: the so-called Seraph was actually a potent energy residing within the Creation God Sword. When the sword was truly activated, its wielder would naturally inherit the Seraph’s energy and memories, becoming the true Seraph. If this current Seraph were to die or disappear, that energy would return to the Creation God Sword until the next inheritor was found. The sole method for activating this energy was through the wielder's own blood, stirring latent life potential to resonate with the Seraph energy within the sword.

"Brother Mohan, does this mean anyone who obtains the Creation God Sword can become the Seraph?" Murong Feixue, standing nearby, couldn't help but ask.

Mohan smiled and shook his head. "No. If the energy is not awakened by a genuine Seraph, the individual will instantly be drained into a desiccated husk, let alone becoming a Seraph."

Hearing Mohan’s clarification, everyone finally understood why he had transformed earlier. Naturally, they were overjoyed. Mohan transforming into the Seraph at this critical juncture was undoubtedly a massive boost for the Human Alliance, giving them greater confidence in confronting Hades, the Lord of the Underworld.

The remaining time was spent in full alert, awaiting the final massive army of the Underworld. With the First Underworld General already fallen to the transformed Seraph Mohan, it was clear that the next opponent would be Hades himself. This realization tightened the tension among the assembled company.

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