The Guardian gods-Chapter 503

The flame mage, seizing the opportune moment, hurled a concentrated ball of pure flame towards the still-disoriented lightning mage. The fire engulfed her, but instead of causing further harm, it blazed intensely for a moment before subsiding, leaving behind a wisp of smoke. The heat had effectively burned away the lingering toxins from Ikenga’s mist, and the lightning mage gasped, her head clearing.

Standing tall once more, her eyes locked onto Ikenga with a burning fury that matched the lingering scent of ozone and burnt petals. Ikenga, in response, let out a quiet sigh as the iron axe in his hand crumbled into dust, the magical transmutation fading with the shift in his focus. A palpable increase in his aura sent a ripple of tension through the gathered mages, putting them further on guard.

Then, the transformation began. Ikenga’s form stretched and contorted, bones cracking and reforming. His human shape dissolved, replaced by his imposing godly form the size of a mountain. Horns like jagged branches erupted from his head, framing a face now more akin to a powerful ape, his muscles bulging beneath a thick hide. His single, intense eye fixed on the starlight and lightning mages. "They are too fast," he thought to himself.

He knew a direct contest of speed was not his strength. To overcome their agility, he needed to control the battlefield itself. Rather than a broad, draining curse, Ikenga whispered a more nuanced curse law to himself: "Curse of Reactive Gravity." The air around him shimmered subtly as the unseen law took hold. This curse wouldn’t continuously weigh down his opponents, but instead, his immediate surroundings would become momentarily, intensely heavier in direct response to their sudden bursts of speed. The faster they moved, the more resistance they would encounter, forcing them to expend more energy and potentially disrupting their fluid movements.

At the same Ikenga was surprised with his current height, he knew he was growing but not to this size, he was about to shrink when he noticed the mages response.

Witnessing Ikenga’s dramatic shift, the mages acted in concert. Their personal domains, which had been tight shields, now expanded slightly, the edges shimmering with raw power. Their astral bodies, extensions of their will and magic, were already manifesting, ready to engage. The flame-wielding goblin mage vanished, replaced by a colossal figure wreathed in roaring flames, a sword of pure fire held aloft. The wind and lightning mage now resembled a classic elemental, her body crackling with arcs of lightning and gusts of wind swirling around her. The starlight mage simply grew taller, her form radiating a cool, celestial light, with motes of starlight dancing in the air around her like miniature galaxies.

To any mundane observer, the three mages now appeared as titans—gods the size of mountains reshaping the very fabric of the world. But to Ikenga and the mages themselves, the perception was even more profound: the planet was no longer the same. It had become a metaphysical battlefield where the rules of reality bent to the wills of its combatants. The mages’ domains had fully unfolded, each becoming a microcosm of their innermost essence—terrains of fire, storm, and stars crashing against one another in chaotic beauty.

At the epicenter of this upheaval stood Ikenga, encased within his own compact domain—a bastion against the overwhelming power of the mages. Though smaller in size, his domain pulsed with intentionality and balance. Every inch of it served a purpose.

Flora within his realm had adapted instantaneously. Verdant, fire-resistant vines unfurled and drew in the intense heat from the flame titan’s domain, converting it into living fire. These flaming plants lashed outward, their roots seeking to burrow into the encroaching inferno and repurpose it, turning destruction into counter-force.

Other flora began to shimmer with electrical luminescence, having absorbed the ambient static and gusts from the storm mage’s tempest. Their branches became whips of wind and bolts of natural lightning. Some plants spun like turbines, generating currents that not only diffused the invading gales but also fanned the fire plants, bolstering their growth and reach.

As for the starlight—a subtler, more refined threat—it was drawn into crystalline blossoms that bloomed along the edges of Ikenga’s domain. These radiant flowers drank in the celestial energy and transformed it into a luminous field, forming a radiant veil that both protected and extended the boundary of his domain. The starlit energy, once overwhelming, now fed the domain like sunlight nourishes the earth, stabilizing its core and expanding its reach.

Ikenga stood rooted at the heart of it all, calm in the eye of the storm. His eyes glinted with layered intent, watching how each piece of his ecosystem reacted, adapted, and fought. Though his domain was dwarfed in size by the grandiose spectacles of the mages, it was not one to be underestimated.

Witnessing the scene of his domain, Ikenga smiled as he said to him self maybe the surprised mages "Nature always adapt"

The colossal flame giant bellowed—a guttural roar forged from the sound of burning forests and collapsing volcanoes. Its massive, living inferno of a sword swung with apocalyptic force, cleaving through the air and releasing an immense arc of searing flame. The crescent-shaped blaze screamed through the sky toward Ikenga’s domain, the heat alone igniting the clouds in its path.

But just before impact, the starshield surrounding Ikenga shimmered. A sudden ripple of cosmic energy pulsed outward, and in an instant, the surface of the shield twisted—not to absorb, but to reflect. The moment the flame met the starshield, a projection appeared across its surface: a sweeping aerial view from the heavens, the perspective of the lightning mage herself. What she saw was terrifying—the flame giant’s own attack, redirected mid-flight, now hurtling directly toward her position.

She had no time to think. Instinct and raw power surged. In a burst of motion, the wind and lightning elemental blurred out of sight. A cyclone of shrieking wind exploded from where she once stood, narrowly avoiding the redirected inferno. The firestorm scorched across her prior location, exploding in the distance in a burst of white-hot fury. The shockwave flattened everything in a wide radius, leaving behind only glassed earth and rising embers.

Now fully enraged, the lightning mage surged back into the fray. A vortex of howling winds and crackling arcs of lightning propelled her forward with dazzling speed. Ionized trails hissed behind her as she moved, her entire form charged with volatile, storm-born energy. Her body shimmered with lightning—wild and barely-contained, a living thunderhead given form. Every bolt she unleashed split the battlefield, shaking the very foundations of the terrain.

She was not just attacking—she was retaliating. Lashing out at Ikenga not only for the danger, but for the insult of turning her ally’s attack back on her.

High above, the starlight mage moved in quiet contrast. Towering and serene, she glided through the air, flickering between points like a shifting constellation. With a calm, deadly poise, she raised her arms and channeled the brightness of stars into focused beams of searing light. Each lance of starlight struck Ikenga’s barrier with celestial fury, melting away layers of defensive magic and scarifying the land around him with glowing craters that radiated otherworldly energy.

Ikenga, in his ape-like godly form, stood his ground, his single eye tracking their movements with intense focus. As the wind and lightning mage accelerated towards his flank, the "Curse of Reactive Gravity" took hold. The air around her shimmered violently, becoming thick and resistant. Her lightning-fast movements suddenly felt sluggish, her momentum momentarily checked as if she were trying to run through thick mud. The bolts of lightning she unleashed seemed to lose some of their initial velocity, their strikes less precise.

He didn’t attempt to match her speed directly. Instead, his massive arms swung, each blow carrying the weight of mountains. Jagged constructs of rock and iron erupted from the ground, intercepting the lightning strikes and forcing the wind elemental to weave and dodge.

The lightning mage had no choice but to shift her momentum, weaving between the rising mountainous barricades, her movements sharper, more erratic. The terrain itself was becoming a weapon—alive, hostile, and unpredictable. Every dodge chipped away at her rhythm.

High above, the starlight mage reappeared—her tall, glowing form emerging in a blink atop a new vantage point far above Ikenga. In her cupped hands, energy bloomed, a newborn star condensed into a spear of radiant force. It grew in intensity with each passing second, humming with the promise of cataclysm.

But Ikenga moved before the attack could be unleashed.

He roared. The branch-like horns that curled from his head pulsed, veins of greenish-gold light surging through them like sap. Responding to the primal cry, an enormous petal unfurled from the canopy of his domain. Its surface shimmered like glass, yet carried the density and resilience of diamond, catching the beam of light just as it fired. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

The impact was strong. The starlight beam slammed into the petal and fractured into thousands of piercing rays. But none passed through. The petal held, shining weakly with a serene defiance as it deflected the wrath of the stars.