A Journey That Changed The World.

Chapter 1478 1478: My Precious Little Girls

Archer watched as Emberaʼs face lit up at his words, causing her to ask hopefully. ʼʼWhere are they now? I hope theyʼre safe.ʼʼ

He nodded while answering. ʼʼTheyʼre working in the southern portions of your lands, living in apartments and thriving alongside some of their families. But Iʼm certain many will return as they learn youʼre now part of Draconia.ʼʼ

When the older woman heard that, something changed in her orange eyes as she suddenly seized his chin, her touch blazing. She surged forward, claiming his lips in a kiss that left him staggered.

But his instincts kicked in, and he pushed her back, heart pounding like war drums. Embera was shocked, which soon twisted into dread as a fist crashed against his jaw, the force hurling him off the wall like a comet.

He hit the ground hard, dust erupting around him as the impact created a crater, confusing him to no end as he sensed the attack at the last moment. Yet he shook his head and sprang to his feet and let out a primal roar that shook the air.

At that moment, a Pseudo God slammed into his body without giving him a chance to react, as his head was still spinning. He let out a snarl and sank his teeth into the godʼs shoulder, jaws tearing through sinew as his razor-sharp claws ripped into the enemyʼs flesh.

Blood painted the battlefield in a savage dance of survival. The man somehow broke free as Archerʼs humanity frayed, thanks to the dragon within clawing its way to the surface. His violet eyes blazed like infernos, pupils narrowing to slits.

After that, he appeared in front of the scared Pseudo God just as he started attacking, claws ripping through flesh and bone in a crimson shower. Blood sprayed like a storm, painting the ground in a macabre scene.

A minute later, the body crumpled to the ground. From the shadows, ten more enemies emerged, their forms radiating raw power, each as formidable as himself. Their expressions were full of hatred, their presence a suffocating weight that would crush lesser souls.

Undaunted, Archerʼs lips curled into a wild grin, his blood-slicked claws flexing, ready for the onslaught. The tension crackled as they charged, a legion of godlike fury against one untamed force.

Ten against one, the clash erupted in a whirlwind of chaos. Fists like thunderbolts met his iron hide, each blow shaking the earth beneath him, but he countered and ducked a crushing strike, his claws slashing upward, carving a gash across oneʼs chest.

Another lunged, only to meet his jaws snapping shut, tearing through sinew with a sickening crunch. The air was thick with the tang of blood and the deafening roars of war all around him.

He stood at the heart of the storm, his body bruised but unbroken, his spirit a blazing furnace of defiance. Moments later, the enemy Pseudo Gods pressed the assault, their fists and blades carving arcs of destruction.

Yet Archer was no mere mortal; he was a force of nature forged in years of fighting. He let out a guttural growl that shook the heavens and launched himself at the nearest enemy. His tail pierced through the manʼs chest, tearing through flesh like paper.

The Pseudo God staggered before collapsing to the ground in a fountain of crimson, life snuffed out in an instant. Another charged, wielding a blade of Light Mana, but he spun low, dodging the strike.

His jaws clamped onto the womanʼs arm, crunching bone, and with a savage twist, he ripped the limb free, sending the powerhouse screaming as she dropped. A second swipe of his claws silenced the wail forever.

Three more rushed him, their combined power a tidal wave of divine anger, but he met them head-on unbothered. He caught a fist aimed for his skull, twisting the arm until it snapped, then drove his elbow into the manʼs throat, crushing it.

As another swung a glowing mace, he ducked, his claws raking upward to disembowel the attacker in a spray of gore. The third landed a blow to his shoulder, pain searing through him, but his rage burned hotter.

With a growl, he tackled the god, his teeth sinking into the manʼs neck, tearing through flesh until the Alliance powerhouse lay still, blood pooling beneath. The remaining enemies circled, wary now, their divine arrogance cracked by the carnage.

Archerʼs chest heaved, blood dripping from his mouth, his eyes glowing with untamed hunger. He roared once again, a sound that echoed like thunder across the battlefield, daring them to come.

They charged as one, a synchronized assault meant to overwhelm. He sidestepped a spear of light, grabbing the wielder and hurling them into another, sending both crashing in a tangle of limbs. His claws flashed, severing a godʼs spine in a single stroke.

Another struck his back, drawing blood, but he whirled, his fist shattering the attackerʼs jaw, followed by a claw that tore through their heart. The final two hesitated, their resolve faltering.

He showed no mercy. With a surge of raw, untamed fury, he launched himself at one foe, a blur of motion, pinning them to the ground as his claws tore through armor and flesh in a savage onslaught.

The final Pseudo God spun to escape, but Archer was already upon them, swift and unstoppable. He closed the distance, his jaws closing around the titanʼs skull, crushing it with a sickening crunch. Silence fell, broken only by his ragged breaths and the drip of blood from his claws.

He stood amidst the carnage, a lone beast surrounded by the broken forms of gods, their divine essence extinguished by his savage might. His body ached, wounds bleeding, but his eyes burned with unyielding fire.

Archer had killed them all, and the battlefield was his. While he stood there, his Shadow Creatures washed out across Duskfire, killing any Alliance soldier they found lingering on Avidia.

Following that, he traveled across Duskfire and attacked every Alliance force he found. As the final echoes of battle faded into silence, he stood on a cliff, his gaze fixed on the northernmost edge of the continent.

Below, the churning sea swallowed the last Alliance fleet, their shattered hulls sinking beneath the waves in a somber testament to the conflictʼs end. The wind carried the faint tang of salt and smoke, a reminder of the chaos that had raged only moments before.

With the tide now calm and the horizon clear, he closed his eyes, focusing on the familiar pull of magic that thrummed through his veins. In an instant, he teleported back to the stone walls of Duskfire capital.

Embera was standing there, her silhouette framed against the fading glow of the setting sun. She looked happy, her bright orange eyes scanning the battlefield, unaware of his return until he stepped silently to her side.

ʼʼHello, empress,ʼʼ he greeted the older woman with a charming smile. ʼʼAll the enemy soldiers are dead and have been dealt with.ʼʼ

A bright smile bloomed across her delicate face as she flung her arms around him, drawing him into a warm, heartfelt embrace. ʼʼArch, thank you for everything,ʼʼ she murmured, her voice quivering with joy and deep gratitude.

Archer returned the embrace, his strong arms wrapping around her. A soft smile played on his lips as he spoke, his voice calm yet resolute. ʼʼElara and the legions will arrive at first light. The Alliance wonʼt risk another assault with them here. Weʼve earned a momentʼs peace.ʼʼ

They continued their conversation, going through the victories and challenges of the day, Emberaʼs laughter mingling with his steady words. After a time, Archer gently parted from her, his thoughts turning to the warmth of home.

With a flicker of mana, he materialized within the ancient stone walls of Draconiaʼs palace. Sensing his wives, Sia and Hecate, in the east wing along with the three babies, he made his way toward them.

Entering the chamber, he found them seated near a grand window, the golden glow of the late afternoon casting a warm halo around them. ʼʼSia, Hecate,ʼʼ Archer greeted, his voice rich with warmth and affection as he crossed the room.

The Dragonkin woman jumped up and gave him a tight cuddle as she exclaimed with a big smile. ʼʼItʼs good to see you, handsome. Freya has missed you, and Hecate here introduced me to Kela and Neoma, they are adorable.ʼʼ

Archer chuckled as the Moon Elf added. ʼʼLook at them, husband, itʼs a stare off.ʼʼ

His eyes softened as they drifted to the nearby bed, where his three baby girls sat, their tiny faces lit with curiosity as they gazed at one another. A warm, tender smile spread across his face, and he couldnʼt resist crossing the room to them.

Freya, ever alert, snapped her little head toward him, her bright blue eyes sparkling as a gummy smile bloomed across her chubby cheeks. He knelt to their level, his usually steady voice melting into a gentle, playful coo.

ʼʼMy precious little girls,ʼʼ he murmured, his heart swelling as he looked at each of them in turn. ʼʼYou three are sisters, bound by love forever. You might have different curls or twinkly eyes, but thatʼs what makes you so special. Youʼre my daughters, my tiny treasures, and youʼll always take care of each other, wonʼt you?ʼʼ