Entering Apocalypse in Easy-Mode
Chapter 362: Corrupted Warriors

Chapter 362: Corrupted Warriors

Michael decided to stay in Uriel’s domain. What he had been waiting for did not disappoint him in the slightest.

Uriel dove into her army like a raging meteor, crashing into the ground with a thunderous impact. The moment she landed a massive explosion erupted from the point of impact, sending a shockwave rippling to all directions.

The sheer force of it shattered the earth beneath her, cracks splintering in all directions as a blinding pillar of golden flames roared skyward.

Dozens of warriors were instantly blown away who was not even joined the fighting, their bodies flung like ragdolls through the air.

Some crashed into the crumbling remnants of structures, while others were incinerated mid-flight, their forms vanishing in bursts of searing light.

The ground itself buckled and warped beneath the intensity of her fire power, the very fabric of her domain groaning under the pressure.

Smoke and embers filled the air, a suffocating cloud that choked out the once-pristine sky.

The training yard had turned into a scene of utter devastation. Where once there had been orderly ranks of soldiers now there was only carnage — a twisted burning wasteland where corrupted warriors writhed in agony or lay motionless, consumed by golden fire.

But still, the madness did not stop.

Despite the destruction and the overwhelming display of Uriel’s wrath, those who remained standing did not cower.

They did not retreat. Instead, they let out unholy screams, their bodies twitching unnaturally as they charged forward toward their master, completely unfazed by the deaths of their comrades.

Their eyes glowed with something inhuman, something ancient, malevolent, and dark.

Michael watched with quiet amusement as Uriel’s flames devoured everything around her, yet failed to bring order back to her own domain.

He could see the frustration boiling within her, the barely contained rage shaking her frame.

She had believed that sheer power alone would be enough to make them submit.

She was wrong.

And that, more than anything, was what fascinated Michael the most.

Michael let out a short laugh. "Pfft... hahaha."

But he quickly stopped himself. He knew there was no one around, which was the only reason he allowed himself this moment of amusement.

"Ahh... this is hilarious. So she just decided to slaughter her own army."

His gaze swept over the destruction Uriel had unleashed. Even he was surprised by how quickly it was spreading. He hadn’t realized her army had fallen to this extent — corrupted beyond recognition and even turning against her.

"I suppose the same thing must be happening elsewhere. As expected, the Ancient One did not hesitate. But still, I didn’t think its power would spread this fast... or this intensely. Did something happen that I’m unaware of?"

Michael frowned. According to his own timetable, there should have been much more time before the corruption reached this stage. He couldn’t help but feel a flicker of curiosity.

Perhaps some unforeseen development had taken place. But it didn’t concern him. Everything unfolding now was simply the will of the Ancient One. He had no place questioning it.

Unfurling his wings, Michael rose into the air. As much as he enjoyed watching Uriel’s downfall, he had no intention of wasting any more time here.

With a single powerful beat of his wings, he soared skyward, leaving Uriel behind without a word.

In the next instant, he was gone.

Uriel burned with rage, her fury igniting the very air around her. But it wasn’t just anger that consumed her, there was also sorrow. A deep and suffocating sadness that clawed at her heart as she watched the warriors who had served her for centuries fall to corruption.

She wanted to save them and undo whatever force had twisted them into mindless abominations. But there was nothing she could do. She didn’t even know what is exactly happening.

The reality was cruel, and no amount of divine power could reverse what had already been done.

Yet, her sorrow was quickly drowned by rage. She gritted her teeth, gripping her sword tighter, and let her fury take control.

With wild abandon, she swung her blade, cutting through the corrupted bodies of her once-loyal warriors. Her strikes sent waves of fire and divine energy coursing through the battlefield, reducing everything around her to ashes.

She fought like a storm, slashing, burning, and destroying. Desperate to vent the storm of emotions raging within her.

But then, in the midst of her fury, she saw them.

The charred remains of her warriors littered the ground, their blackened forms barely recognizable. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air and Uriel staggered back, her breath catching in her throat.

These weren’t just her enemies. They were her warriors. They had once knelt before her, sworn oaths to her name, followed her into countless battles.

And now, by her own hand, they were gone.

Her grip on her sword trembled. The fire raging in her heart flickered, overtaken by a crushing weight of despair.

Had she truly done this? Had she slain those who had once trusted her, those who had fought by her side for centuries?

The realization crashed over her and her movements began to slow.

Her swings lost their strength, her attacks no longer carrying the same power.

And that hesitation was all it took.

In that brief moment where her guard slipped, the corrupted warriors — those who still remained standing — surged toward them at once. From all sides, they lunged at her, their movements erratic yet filled with a monstrous intent.

The first attack struck her from behind, a sword tearing into her armor. The second came from the side, a spear piercing into her shoulder.

She gasped, stumbling as more attacks rained down upon her. Blades, spears, and some even dark tendrils. All of them found their mark, striking her from every direction.

Her armor that once gleamed with diving energy cracked and shattered, golden light spilling from the wounds like blood.

Uriel roared in pain, trying to raise her sword once more, but her body refused to move as it once had. The relentless barrage continued and they managed to driving her to her knees.

For the first time in centuries, she felt powerless.

And as she looked upon the battlefield, the monstrous faces of her former warriors surrounding her, she wondered if their souls were still in there.

The doors of the grand buildings in her domain burst open with a loud crash. Warriors, scholars, and servants poured out, their faces filled with fear and concern.

They had already noticed the warriors acting strangely, but they had believed—like always—that Archangel Uriel would resolve the problem. She had always been able to maintain order in her domain with her sheer power, for everything here feared her authority.

But now... what was happening?

Why did her power no longer work? Why were the warriors still in chaos despite her presence?

Worse still, they weren’t just restless anymore—they were attacking her.

This was madness.

"We have to help Her Majesty," an elderly scholar said urgently.

Several others nodded in agreement. Without hesitation, they unfurled their wings and took flight, rushing toward their Archangel, who was now being overwhelmed by her own soldiers.

From a distance, Asqa watched in silence. Her eyes narrowed, her lips pressed into a tight line.

This was chaos.

Clyde had been right. She had believed his warnings, but she had never expected things to spiral this far out of control.

The senior scholars along with the others who were eager to aid their Archangel took flight without hesitation. Their wings cut through the air as they rushed toward Uriel, their hands already glowing with divine magic.

With swift incantations they unleashed waves of golden energy, pushing back the corrupted warriors that had swarmed her.

The twisted soldiers staggered and recoiled under the force of the scholars’ spells, but only for a moment.

Uriel stood in the midst of the chaos, her once-magnificent form barely resembling the Archangel they revered. Her wings that usually shining with celestial brilliance were tattered and darkened by blood and battle. Her hands were now stained with the ashes of her own fallen warriors.

But it was her eyes that unsettled them the most — hollow, empty, as if all hope had drained from her soul.

"Your Majesty!" One of the senior scholars, a bearded elder who had served her for centuries, grabbed her by the shoulders. "We must leave at once!"

Another scholar landed beside him.

But Uriel did not respond. Her gaze remained distant, fixed on the charred corpses around her — bodies of warriors who had followed her for so long. And now, she had struck them down with her own hands.

The hesitation cost them dearly.

From all directions, the corrupted warriors surged forward once more, their movements unnatural, their expressions twisted.

Their weapons shimmered with dark energy, and in the next instant, they attack.

A spear of blackened steel tore through the chest of one scholar, impaling him mid-air before he could even cry out. Another was yanked from the sky by clawed hands, his screams drowned by the monstrous growls of the fallen soldiers.

Magic flared as the remaining scholars fought back, but they were outnumbered, overwhelmed.

Uriel finally blinked, as if waking from a nightmare. She have to get out of here first.

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