My Celestial Ascension

“KYAAAAAAA!”

“ANGHHHHHHHHH!”

Screams of agony erupted across the battlefield as Holy Church soldiers fell one after another into the deadly traps hidden behind the massive barricades—cleverly prepared by the Lionheart Empire.

Most of them died instantly, their bodies impaled by sharpened bamboo spears at the bottom of deep pits. Those who somehow survived writhed in pain, their blood pooling beneath them, organs pierced, their lives hanging by a thread.

“COWARDS! HOW DARE YOU SET TRAPS LIKE THIS! YOU HAVE NO HONOR!” the Holy Knight Commander, Sir Alaric, roared with fury, his eyes wide with rage as he clenched his fists.

But the only answer he received was silence… followed by a terrifying sound—

Whoosh… whoosh… whoosh…

Tens of thousands of arrows suddenly darkened the sky, flying toward them in a thick cloud of death.

The expressions of the soldiers changed instantly. Fear gripped them as they looked up and saw the sheer number of arrows hurtling toward them. Their bravado evaporated like mist in sunlight.

“GET TO COVER!! DON’T LET THE ARROWS HIT YOU!” Sir Alaric shouted, conjuring a powerful defensive barrier of Holy Aura that shimmered around him like a divine shield.

The soldiers rushed into cover with trembling limbs, gritting their teeth in both frustration and terror. They knew this was war. They knew death was inevitable. But this—this rain of arrows—this was a nightmare.

None of them wanted to die like that.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The arrows struck the barriers with loud, echoing thuds, scattering against the divine shields. Even though their tips were forged from monster fangs and bones, not a single one managed to pierce through Sir Alaric’s aura.

“Hmph! Does the Lionheart Empire truly think such cheap tricks can work against us? Pathetic!” Sir Alaric scoffed coldly, his aura flaring as the arrows near him were effortlessly deflected.

And as soon as the final wave of arrows came to an end, the Holy Church’s army began to regroup. They prepared to advance again, their rage boiling after the humiliation they just suffered.

“MAGES!” Sir Alaric shouted, raising his gleaming magic sword high into the sky. “DESTROY THOSE BARRICADES WITH YOUR MAGIC AND CRUSH THE ENEMY!”

The order rang out with authority, and the mages at the front raised their staffs, preparing destructive spells to obliterate the blockade.

Yet, not a single Lionheart soldier was visible. The battlefield seemed strangely quiet.

Even using advanced Magic Sense, they couldn’t detect any enemies hiding behind the forest.

“…This is strange,” one of the mages muttered.

From afar, the Pope observed everything through a magic artifact floating before him, displaying the battlefield like a crystal-clear illusion.

‘They’re hiding from our Magic Sense…’ he thought, narrowing his eyes. ‘They must be using a powerful artifact. A rare one that even blocks detection at this level…’

A desire flickered in the Pope’s gaze.

‘Such an artifact… If it exists in the Lionheart Empire’s hands, I must have it. It would be a priceless addition to my collection—and a powerful tool for the Holy Church.’

Meanwhile, tens of thousands of soldiers from the Lionheart Empire were already in position, mounted on their warhorses, ready to charge the moment the command was given.

“Everyone! Are you ready to overthrow the tyranny of the Holy Church?!”

King Richard’s voice suddenly echoed through the silent forest, his tone firm and brimming with the commanding presence of a true leader.

His words struck the hearts of every soldier like a war drum. A fire ignited in their chests—excitement, fury, and a deep sense of justice surged through them. Grins stretched across their faces as they raised their weapons high.

“YES! WE WILL DESTROY THE HOLY CHURCH AND END ITS TYRANNY! FOR THE EMPIRE!!”

“FOR OUR FAMILIES!!”

Loud cries shook the forest, ringing with determination and courage. The warriors roared together, clinking their swords and spears against their shields, their voices forming a battle hymn of defiance.

“Then follow me—and slay our enemies!” King Richard shouted before kicking his heels into his horse, charging toward the enemy lines that steadily advanced toward the forest’s edge.

Thousands of mounted warriors thundered behind him, warhorses galloping at full speed, weapons gleaming in the morning sun.

At the same time, Crown Prince Daniel raised his sword toward the enemy. “Mages! Support King Richard with everything you’ve got! Unleash wide-range magic attacks!”

In response, the mages immediately began chanting their spells. Arcs of light gathered at the tips of their staffs, and within moments, dozens of devastating magical blasts were hurled across the battlefield—causing explosions that shook the earth itself.

“Haaaaaa!!” King Richard roared as he cut through the enemy lines like a hurricane of steel. He swung his sword with brutal precision, cleaving through Holy Church soldiers as if they were made of straw. With one hand on his sword and the other on his reins, he moved through enemy ranks like a deadly force of nature.

“Stop him! Don’t let him get close! Protect the platoon leaders!” a commander from the Holy Church shouted, panic rising in his voice as King Richard carved a bloody path straight toward their front line officers.

“T-That’s King Richard of the Windfall Kingdom! He’s joined forces with the Lionheart Empire!” one of the soldiers screamed in shock as he recognized the warrior who cut down dozens without pause.

Terror swept through the Holy Church’s troops.

They had heard stories—legends even—about this man. King Richard Windfall. A ruthless warrior from his youth. A commander who once single-handedly cleared a dungeon infested with magical spider monsters, where even elite hunters and seasoned knights had fallen.

“T-This is unfair… How are we supposed to fight someone like that…?”

Fear took hold of their hearts. One by one, the soldiers began to falter. Their morale crumbled as they watched their comrades slaughtered in droves by the fearsome king.

King Richard fought without hesitation, his face a cold mask of killing intent. There was no mercy in his eyes. Every swing of his sword painted the battlefield red. He was a reaper on horseback—unstoppable and unforgiving.

Clang! Clang! Sparks flew as swords clashed, and the deafening roar of thousands of soldiers filled the battlefield. The two great powers had finally collided.

“Kill them all! Leave none alive!”

All the platoon leaders bellowed as their troops surged forward. The soldiers of the Lionheart Empire were closing in at an alarming pace. Despite being fewer in number, their sheer ferocity and discipline were overwhelming the Holy Church’s forces.

Driven by the weight of war, the soldiers of the Lionheart Empire had trained relentlessly. They fought not only for victory but to protect their families—failure was not an option.

“Isn’t it time we stepped in as well?” asked Holy Knight Commander Sir Gideon, glancing toward Sir Alaric with a faint smile. “At this rate, our numbers will dwindle faster than expected. I must admit, the Lionheart Empire’s counterattack has taken us by surprise.”

“Indeed. Even with fewer troops, they’re pushing our frontlines back. It’s quite unexpected.” Sir Alaric nodded, his expression darkening.

“If this continues, our men won’t even last three days,” added Sir Cassian with a scowl. “They’ve grown soft—feasting, drinking, and neglecting their training.”

Sir Gideon sighed and nodded. “In that case… shall we join the fray?”

“Absolutely. Let’s crush the Lionheart Empire!”

The Holy Knight Commanders had finally decided to engage the Lionheart Empire’s elite Magic Knights.

Sir Alaric’s lips curled into a wide grin. “Leave King Richard to me. I’ll take him down.”

Without another word, he bolted toward King Richard, moving at a speed far beyond ordinary human limits. He wore enchanted boots that vastly increased his mobility, and in his hand, he wielded a legendary blade infused with divine power.

“Holy Sword of Destruction!”

Sir Alaric unleashed his most powerful sword technique, honed over years of relentless training. From a great distance, a massive arc of Holy Light burst forth from his blade—a blinding crescent slash tearing through the battlefield, aimed directly at King Richard.

“Hmm?” Sensing the incoming danger, King Richard’s instincts flared. Channeling mana into his legs, he attempted to leap backward to evade.

But the holy arc was far too swift.

Realizing he couldn’t fully dodge it, King Richard quickly raised the back of his sword to block the blow.

BOOM!

A deafening explosion rocked the field as the holy blade collided with his weapon. King Richard was launched several meters into the air, spinning through the sky from the impact.

Mid-air, he clenched his jaw and forced mana through his body to regain control. He twisted, landing firmly on the ground—but his hand throbbed with pain.

The force of that attack… had left his arm numb.

‘W-What a powerful attack… I can hardly feel my hands anymore!’ King Richard stared in disbelief at his trembling hands, the aftermath of the earlier blow. The numbness in his arm reminded him that he had narrowly escaped a fatal strike.

Lifting his gaze, he fixed his eyes on the one responsible—a knight standing proudly amidst the battlefield, sword in hand and clad in thick armor. The man’s piercing gaze and confident posture made it clear: he wasn’t just any soldier.

“Looks like you managed to survive that… How surprising,” Sir Alaric sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. “You seem rather strong—for a mere king.”

“Only a coward would attack from behind,” King Richard replied, eyes narrowing in disdain. “And yet you dare call yourself a knight? That title does not suit you. You’re not worthy of it.”

Sir Alaric chuckled behind his helmet. “This is war, not a duel in a royal court. There is only one rule here—kill or be killed. Now then… shall we begin?”

“Very true,” King Richard growled. “Let’s see who meets their end first.”

With that, King Richard burst forward, his weapon raised high as a tremendous surge of mana exploded from his body, tearing the ground beneath his feet. The air cracked around him as he dashed toward Sir Alaric with lethal intent.

—

Meanwhile, in the Imperial Palace of the Holy Light Empire, far from the chaos of the battlefield, peace momentarily lingered.

Yuan and his wives were quietly training in the vast courtyard behind the palace. Their movements were elegant, fluid, and powerful—each one of them displaying incredible mastery over their respective abilities.

Not far from them, the summoned Heroes were also training, though noticeably stiff and reserved. They didn’t dare to approach Yuan and his wives. The memory of their last encounter—when they had dared to provoke them—was still fresh and humiliating.

Likewise, Yuan and his wives ignored the Heroes completely. Their presence was so insignificant that they didn’t even acknowledge them, as if they were little more than background noise.

Suddenly, the peaceful training session was interrupted.

A maid rushed into the courtyard, her face pale and eyes filled with urgency. She approached Yuan and his wives respectfully but with haste.

“Young Master Yuan,” she said, bowing slightly. “His Highness requests your presence—yours and your wives’—in the throne hall immediately. There is something serious he wishes to discuss with you all.”

Her voice trembled slightly, revealing the gravity of the situation.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!