Chapter 470: Dark Sun

Chapter 470: Dark Sun

Whoosh!

The moment his palms met, the torrent of black flames that had been flooding from his body surged upward like a geyser of darkness. The flames twisted and gathered above, forming a vortex that spun faster and faster, absorbing every drop of infernal fire Max had unleashed. Then it began to compress, shrinking inwards but growing denser, heavier, hotter—until finally, it took shape.

A giant sphere of black flames floated in the sky above them, silent and motionless. It was massive—easily the size of a football field—hovering like a second sun, but one made of death and oblivion.

The surface of the sphere wasn’t smooth—it was alive, rippling with tendrils of fire that slithered around it like serpents hunting for prey. And though it did not fall, did not descend, did not explode… its presence alone was devastating.

The sheer heat it emitted warped the air for miles. The battlefield felt like it had been thrown into the heart of a dying star. Warriors nearby had to shield their faces.

The Vital Essence shells of weaker experts sizzled just trying to hold back the waves of heat radiating off the sphere. Some even stumbled back, the hems of their robes catching fire from just standing too close.

Dust on the ground dried and lifted. The blood in the wounds of the injured began to boil. The very sky above it seemed to darken further, retreating from the presence of what Max had created.

And it hadn’t even moved yet.

Klaus, watching from afar, felt his heart pound as cold sweat beaded on his back. “This… This is beyond anything I’ve seen before,” he whispered. “Only you can use this technique to its highest potential.”

Up in the sky, Max stood still beneath the floating death he had summoned—his eyes fixed on William.

“Five Omens of Absolute Calamity.”

“First Omen – Dark Sun.”

Max’s voice was soft but carried with it the weight of destruction itself. The moment the words left his mouth, the massive sphere of black flames—ominous, silent, and pulsing like the heart of an infernal god—began to descend. It did not fall like a fireball.

It lowered with gravity-defying weight, slowly, deliberately, as if announcing its arrival to the world. Its descent sent shockwaves rippling through the skies, and the very clouds parted above it.

A visible black dome of pressure formed around it as it moved, compressing the air until even sound seemed to vanish in its wake.

William laughed. Bold. Arrogant. Confident. “Hahaha! This is indeed powerful, I’ll admit that!” he called out, raising his hand and gesturing to his vast army of undead. “But don’t think you can destroy my army with something that slow. I’ll just move them out of the way. Do you think me foolish?”

With a wave of his hand, he sent out his command—clear, dominant, bound by Necromancer authority. “Move! Scatter to the sides!”

But nothing happened.

The army of the dead remained exactly where they were—thousands upon thousands of lifeless beings, unmoving, frozen in their tracks. The skeletal wyvern didn’t flap its wings. The two-headed minotaur didn’t twitch.

The Graveborn Colossus, towering like a mountain, stood as still as a statue. The Basilisk, the Kraken, the demons, monsters, humans—all frozen in place like they’d been trapped in time itself.

William’s laughter choked off.

“What…?” His eyes narrowed, confusion giving way to a spark of panic. “What?! Why aren’t they moving? Why aren’t they responding to my command?!” he screamed, his voice rising sharply. He shouted again, more desperate now, “Move! I command you—move!”

But they couldn’t.

Max watched from beneath the falling black sun, the faintest sneer playing on his lips. His eyes, glowing faintly with spatial energy, flickered with cold precision. He had foreseen this.

He knew the weakness of the Dark Sun. It was slow—too slow. For all its devastating power, it was never meant for quick, agile enemies. If left unhindered, an army—no matter how large—could simply move away. That was the obvious counter.

But Max never gave his enemies obvious choices.

Before unleashing the Dark Sun, he had activated one of his more subtle skills—Space Freeze. A massive, silent wave of space element spread invisibly beneath the army of undead, locking the very fabric of space around them.

Not time. Not their limbs. Not their senses. Space itself. The result? No movement. No shifting. No dodging. No escape.

They weren’t paralyzed—they were anchored. Every undead monster, from the smallest reanimated goblin to the towering Graveborn Colossus, was trapped in the exact space they stood in, unable to shift even an inch. Their wills didn’t matter. Their master’s commands didn’t matter.

They were fixed targets.

And above them, the Dark Sun continued to fall, its silent presence now echoing like a judgment passed.

Max didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. He simply floated beneath the falling sun of annihilation he had summoned, his face calm, cold, eyes fixed on the unmoving army below. The sky trembled, the black flames churned, and the stench of decay mixed with heat thickened in the air like a heavy mist.

Yet in the stillness, Max’s mind stirred. ‘Concepts are… too strong,’ he suddenly realized. His gaze flicked briefly to the frozen legion of the dead—thousands of them, powerful undead monstrosities—and the sheer scale of what he had just done began to dawn on him.

His Space Freeze skill was only Rare Rank. It should not, under any condition, have been capable of freezing such a massive force in place all at once.

Not unless the user possessed strength leagues above his current level. And yet, he had done it. Effortlessly. Naturally. Almost… instinctively.

Just then, a voice reached into his thoughts, deep and steady—Blob.

“This is… a false domain,” the familiar voice muttered.

“A false domain?” Max frowned, his brows knitting. That term wasn’t foreign to him. He had only ever heard of Revenna, the mysterious prodigy of the North, a friend of his, capable of creating a False Domain using her ice ability—an ability only those nearing true mastery over a Concept could achieve.

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!