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Chapter 586 Chapter 586 Spiritual Realm

After a few seconds, he returned to reality. He was standing in the arena. The crowds cheered. There were two men standing to Tom's left and right.

"I need to get out of here."

Both men rushed towards each other, swinging their blades. Tom was too slow to dodge. For some reason his mind lacked focus. But what happened next surprised him. The blades did not hurt him at all, instead they went through him like he wasn't even there.

The two men fought, their blades letting out sparks as they did. Multiple times they went through Tom, but they didn't seem to feel it.

"Is this the spiritual realm?" Tom asked himself. "This is like the boundary between reality. This must be how those cultists hide from my godly eyes. But the system said I am not strong enough to unlock the godly's power, so in the future, I will be able to unlock any secret."

The first swordsman, Sir Galen of the Silver Shield, clad in shining silver armor, wielded a sword as long as he was tall, its blade glinting in the sunlight. He raised his blade high and shouted to the other fighter, "Come at me, if you dare!"

The second swordsman, Baron Dante of the Black Blade, dressed in dark, ominous armor, drew his own blade, a wicked-looking weapon with jagged edges and a blackened steel blade. He sneered at his opponent and replied, "You'll regret challenging me, boy."

As the two swordsmen charged towards each other, their blades met with a deafening clash, sending sparks flying in all directions. Blow after blow was exchanged, their movements precise and calculated, each fighter attempting to gain an advantage over the other. The audience looked on in rapt admiration as Sir Galen of the Silver Shield and Baron Dante of the Black Blade engaged in an epic struggle of skill and valor.

"Hmmm," Tom wasn't impressed by their skill at all. If he entered this competition, he could defeat both of these men with a single finger.

"Why do I have to protect these people?" Tom had problems if an entire world was about to be burned, but he didn't mind if a few millions died every year. After all, that was the natural order of things.

"Besides, why would the cultists try to kill them? More importantly, where are they?"

That was when all of a sudden, ten figures in black robes slowly appeared. At first their form was transparent before they began to take shape as they rushed towards the two fighters with a blade in hand.

"I am not letting you!"

Tom charged at them with his Phantom Doomblade, shocking the cultists.

"Who are you!?"

"The one that will send you to hell!" Tom beheaded the man in question before he rushed towards another.

Nine cultists attacked him, all the while the crowds were cheering as Galen and Dante fought.

From the crowds' perspective, there were only two men fighting in the arena. They didn't see the battles happening in the spiritual realm which was even more epic.

Tom drew his sword, his eyes blazing with the power he held within. Nine cultists stood before him, their dark magic swirling around them like a malevolent aura. Without hesitation, Tom charged forward, the flames leaping up around him as he called forth his power.

With a flick of his wrist, Tom sent a blast of wind hurtling towards the first cultist, knocking him off his feet. Blood magic followed next, as Tom used his power to manipulate the cultists' own blood, causing them to falter and stumble. But the cultists were not so easily defeated; they retaliated with their own spells, their dark magic lashing out at Tom with deadly force.

Tom countered with a barrage of fire spells, engulfing them in a blazing inferno. The cultists screamed in agony as Tom's flames licked at their flesh, but they refused to yield. With a wave of their hands, they conjured up a whirlwind of black smoke, obscuring Tom's vision and causing him to cough and wheeze.

But Tom was not so easily defeated. Using his control over the wind, he dispersed the smoke with a gust of air, revealing the cultists standing before him once more. With a roar, Tom summoned forth a powerful blast of blood magic, causing the cultists to stagger backwards in pain.

Tom was a whirlwind of power, his flames, blood, and wind magic working in harmony to take down his foes. The cultists were fierce opponents, but they were no match for Tom's relentless onslaught.

As the cultists closed in, Tom took a deep breath and began to focus his power. Flames erupted around him, casting a flickering glow over his features as he drew his sword. The cultists hesitated for a moment, taken aback by the sudden burst of fire, but then they charged forward, their own magic crackling in the air.

The first cultist lunged at Tom, his blade flashing in the light of the flames. But Tom was too quick for him; he sidestepped the attack and delivered a swift strike with his own sword, slicing the cultist's throat open. The cultist fell to the ground, gurgling and gasping for air, while Tom moved on to the next target.

"That's the best you can do?" Tom sneered.

Tom summoned a blast of wind magic, sending the second cultist tumbling backwards. He followed up with a flurry of strikes, his sword moving in a blur as he cut down the cultist's defenses. The cultist screamed in pain as Tom's blade pierced his heart, and then he fell silent.

The rest of them were enraged when they saw their partners being killed.

"We are the slaves of hell! Killing us will guarantee you a ticket there!"

"My dad owns hell, bitch."

"How dare you insult us! Only the Son of Hujarar can say such things!"

"I guess you weren't told."

"What do you mean?"

"I am the Son of Hujarar.

The cultists trembled and then glared at him.

"Nobody is allowed to insult our lord's son! Kill him!"

The remaining cultists closed in, their eyes filled with hatred and fear. But Tom was not deterred; he called forth a powerful blast of blood magic, using it to immobilize his foes. They struggled and thrashed, but they could not break free from Tom's grip. One by one, Tom dispatched them with a series of deadly strikes, his sword slicing through flesh and bone like a hot knife through butter.

"Ahhhh!!!" The cultists screamed as their organs were seared with heat.

They immediately broke off Tom's control and leaped back. Blood spilled out of their stomach like crazy.

"How can you be this powerful?"

"I eat a lot of chicken, that's how."

The cultists groaned in anger. Dark aura exploded from their body. There were only five of them left.

Tom eyed the cultists warily, his grip on his sword tightening as he prepared for their attack. But to his surprise, the cultists began to chant in unison, their dark magic pulsing through the air. Tom watched in horror as they began to transform before his very eyes, their bodies contorting and twisting as they took on the form of dark demonic creatures.

The first of the creatures lunged at Tom, its claws slashing through the air. Tom dodged the attack and countered with a blast of wind magic, sending the creature tumbling backwards. But it was undeterred; it rose to its feet and charged forward once more, its eyes blazing with a fierce intensity.

Tom summoned his own magic, calling forth a burst of flames to incinerate the creature. But it was no use; the flames simply bounced off the creature's thick hide, leaving it unscathed. Tom knew that he had to find a way to defeat these creatures, and quickly.

"Where do they get this magic?"

The second creature attacked from the side, its massive horns goring through the air. Tom ducked beneath the attack and countered with a burst of blood magic, hoping to immobilize the creature. But the creature simply shook off the magic and charged forward once more, its jaws gaping wide.

Tom evaded the creature's attack once again, but he knew that he couldn't keep this up forever. He took a deep breath and summoned forth his most powerful magic yet, a blast of wind and fire that engulfed all five of the creatures in a maelstrom of destruction. When the flames cleared, the creatures lay scattered and defeated, their dark magic extinguished by Tom's power.

Tom stood there, panting and sweating, his sword still held at the ready. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and ash, but Tom was victorious.

The crowd cheered and Tom noticed that Galend had won the fight.

Tom stabbed the sword to the ground, leaning on it as support. He was exhausted from the battle. "These guys are not ordinary."

Suddenly, a powerful cultist appeared out of thin air. He was tall and imposing, his skeletal face sending chills down Tom's spine. The air around him seemed to hum with dark energy, and his eyes glowed with an eerie green light. Everything about this figure depicted dead and rot. Its hollow eyes seemed to be infinitely hollow.

When the figure looked at Tom, his knees felt weak immediately.

———

Name: Zelrath the Corrupt

Level: 200

Class: Cultist

Health Points: 10,000,000

Mana Points: 8,000,000

Strength: 350,000

Dexterity: 250,000

Intelligence: 800,000

Wisdom: 700,000

Equipment:

Robes of the Necromancer (+1000 Intelligence, +500 Wisdom, +400 Charisma)

Staff of the Undying (+500 Intelligence, +300 Wisdom, +200 Strength)

Amulet of Dark Sacrifice (+400 Intelligence, +400 Mana Points, +250 Health Points)

Skills:

Necromancy: Expert

Dark Magic: Master

Elemental Magic: Advanced

Ritual Casting: Expert

Summoning: Master

——

An Adamantite Rank cultist!

"This is not good."