My Celestial Ascension Chapter 876: Corvan’s Despair

The earth was drenched in crimson, littered with the remains of the fallen. Each corpse bore a grotesque expression—eyes bulging in a final, agonizing moment of pure shock.

Struggling against his own weight, Corvan forced himself up from the dirt. His legs shook violently, and a harsh cough tore through his lungs.

With a heavy heart and tears carving paths through the grime on his face, he gazed upon his dead companions. He began a slow, somber trek toward each silent form.

The sheer terror frozen on their features left a scar on his soul. He was certain those haunting faces would plague his nightmares until his dying day.

Though his lips trembled, his stubborn pride fought to keep him from a total breakdown. Ultimately, however, the grief was too much; he collapsed to his knees amidst the wreckage of his unit.

"Please... forgive me for leading you all into this slaughter. This was never what I intended," he choked out, his voice thick with remorse.

He went on, "Our assessment of the foe was a grave mistake... his power is beyond anything we conceived. We are simply not meant to cross paths with a monster like him... regret is useless now."

"I despise my own vanity... I regret coming here and dragging everyone into a massacre. As your leader, the blood is on my hands." He offered his apology, fighting a losing battle against the tears that wouldn't stop.

After wiping his eyes, he stood and began the grim task of collecting the dead. With trembling hands, he placed each body into his Magic Pouch one by one.

With the task finished, he limped toward the kingdom’s gates. Since Yuan had slaughtered every giant eagle, he had no means of aerial travel.

Left with no alternative, he had to travel on foot to exit the kingdom's territory before he could signal the High Heaven for a retrieval team.

The moment he stepped past the Elven Kingdom’s borders, Corvan activated his Magic Transmission Device to send word to the High Heaven.

—

Back at the Elven Palace, Yuan returned to find Anna Grace and the rest of the group still gathered in the lounge.

"Did I keep you waiting too long?" Yuan inquired with a warm smile, his eyes moving affectionately over his wives as he entered.

"Not at all, Darling." Anna Grace returned the smile and gestured for him to take the seat beside her. "But I must ask... was it wise to let that arrogant fool leave with his life?"

"I don’t believe it will be an issue. Having faced a high-ranking god, I now have a clear grasp of their true limits," Yuan answered with calm assurance as he sat down.

"Is that so...? Hearing you say that puts my mind at rest." Kitsura exhaled a soft sigh, her smile elegant and her posture radiating allure.

"Those who call themselves gods are far too blinded by their own pride. This time, however, they picked a fight with the wrong man," Angela remarked, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Indeed. They’ve been taught a lesson... though the price was steep," Vanessa added, nodding in agreement.

"I doubt they’ll simply move on. Those types rarely retreat when their status is insulted," Valeria noted coolly, leaning back against the sofa with her arms crossed.

By this time, the tale of gods being slaughtered within the Elven Kingdom had already begun to surge across the continent.

News of this magnitude spreads with supernatural speed; after all, the death of a god—a being who commands pure Mana—is almost inconceivable.

The reality that several such beings had perished inside the Elven Kingdom was a truth many found impossible to swallow.

The continent was left in a state of total shock as the news broke. A single question burned in the mind of every inhabitant—how could a mortal possibly slay a god?

And to kill not just one, but a whole group?

While many dismissed it as a preposterous fabrication, others swore they had witnessed the gods flying toward the Elven Kingdom on the backs of their massive eagles.

Numerous witnesses confirmed seeing the divine party passing overhead on their giant mounts.

Despite the evidence, the idea of so many gods being wiped out remained nearly unbelievable. Most commoners lived their entire lives without ever glimpsing a god—yet someone had managed to butcher several of them single-handedly.

The story roared through the lands like a hurricane. Everyone was desperate to identify the mysterious figure who possessed the strength to kill the gods of legend.

Various tribes even began plotting to find this man, hoping to offer their finest young women to him in hopes of birthing a new generation of god-slaying warriors.

—

Answering Corvan’s emergency signal, a giant eagle descended from the High Heavens, carrying a rescue squad of gods toward the Elven Kingdom.

"The signal is coming from that way. Lord Corvan should be in that vicinity," one god noted, gesturing toward the horizon.

"Understood," another replied, his face grim. "The source is definitely there. I can't help but wonder what happened to force him into such a sudden, desperate call for help."

"Is it possible the foe was so formidable that he was forced to flee?"

"That seems highly unlikely. Lord Corvan is among the elite Divine Knights of the High Heaven. Losing to a mere mortal is out of the question."

"Regardless, we must reach Lord Corvan immediately. We'll get the full story once we find him."

"Agreed." The other god gave a firm nod, his expression hardening.

Shortly after, the eagle beat its wings harder, accelerating to a staggering velocity. A thunderous boom echoed as its massive frame tore through the sky.

As the beast sped forward, the violent gusts of wind from its wings buffeted the people on the ground far below.

Eventually, they neared the location as Corvan’s Mana signature grew more distinct, and the Elven Kingdom appeared on the horizon.

Scanning the terrain, they spotted a blood-soaked Corvan standing on the earth, weakly signaling for them to touch down.

"W-What has become of Lord Corvan? And where is the rest of his unit?"

"He looks terrible. Land at once! We need to get a high-grade healing potion into him to stop that bleeding!" the other god yelled in alarm, commanding the eagle to descend.

As soon as the eagle’s talons hit the dirt, the two gods leaped down and ran to him, their faces pale with worry.

"L-Lord Corvan! What happened?! Who did this to you?!" one cried out, his voice shaking with shock.

The man before them was a legendary Divine Knight who reported only to the God King—a man worshipped by thousands and sought after by every noblewoman in the heavens.

Seeing such a figure in this broken state was a jarring sight. Their confusion deepened when they realized that, despite the blood, there were no visible wounds on his skin.

'What could have caused this? What power can make a man bleed this much without leaving a single scar?' Both gods were haunted by the same thought as they looked at him.

Corvan remained silent at first, his eyes vacant as he struggled to wrap his mind around the swift violence he had witnessed.

"They are all gone... everyone died because we—because I was too prideful and failed to see the truth of our enemy..." Corvan finally whispered, his voice cracking.

"Dead?!" the two gods gasped in unison, their faces masks of disbelief.

"H-How can that be?! There is no way our entire force was defeated by a single mortal!" one god shouted, his mind rejecting the claim.

"Exactly! A mortal man stands no chance against us—against gods! We represent the ultimate power!" the other added with fervent conviction.

Corvan listened to their boastful words and simply shook his head, sighing deeply. He felt a wave of pity—for them and for his former self. He had been just as vain before he saw his men slaughtered and was left in this pathetic condition.

"Hmph! I held that same arrogance when I first met him... but the lesson has been learned. If you persist in that mindset, you will eventually discover the meaning of true despair..." Corvan gave a hollow laugh before dragging himself toward the eagle and climbing up.

"..."

"What was that supposed to mean? Has the trauma broken his mind?" one god asked, looking puzzled.

"I haven't a clue," the other replied with a shrug before joining him on the mount.

A moment later, the eagle’s wings thundered as it took flight, soaring back toward the High Heaven—the majestic floating island drifting amidst the clouds.

—

Within the Golden Throne of the Divine Palace, the King of the Gods sat enveloped in a heavy, suffocating silence. His eyes were bloodshot with fury, and the atmosphere in the room crackled with his killing intent.

Aside from a few silent angels stationed behind the throne, the massive hall was empty. The king sat motionless, a silent storm of rage.

"So many of my subjects snuffed out in a heartbeat... what happened down there?" he growled, his voice low and lethal as he stared at the floor.

His fingers dug into the golden armrests, and the angels behind him shivered as pulses of his anger radiated through the air.

"All of them gone at once... wiped out in a single moment. It defies logic. What kind of power could a mortal possess to butcher my people like that?"

"What ability allows for the simultaneous slaughter of gods? Does such a thing even exist?" He was consumed by questions, lost in a dark spiral of thought.

He had spent lifetimes studying ancient scrolls and the surviving fragments of lost texts. None of them contained a record of such power.

Every scripture spoke of nothing but meditation. Even the oldest symbols he couldn't fully translate always pointed back to meditation—nothing else.

There was no record of any force that could challenge a god, let alone slaughter them like cattle in a pen.

After some time, the heavy golden doors of the hall hummed open. The sound of footsteps echoed as two men entered with confidence.

One of them was pushing a wooden wheelchair. Corvan sat within it, his gaze fixed on nothing, his mind trapped in a loop of Yuan killing his men without moving a muscle.

Upon reaching the base of the throne, both gods knelt and bowed their heads in profound reverence.

"Your Majesty, we have returned with Lord Corvan. His state is critical—and it seems to be deteriorating," one reported, not daring to look up.

"Leave us," the God King commanded, his voice cold and flat as a wave of oppressive mana filled the hall.

"W-We obey, Your Majesty." The two gods trembled in terror before hurrying out of the throne room.