I created my own system

Chapter 392 - chapter 392: Hope

The sky split.

Something fell, like a wound bleeding light.

From the clouds above, the colossal magic circle unfurled like a second sun. It burned its way down, crashing right into the barrier of the city. The surrounding landscape was blown away while the pillar of blazing flame burned crimson and gold. As it clashed into the dome, another circle was drawn. Fifteen shining rings emerged while symbols on each sigil hummed as if welcoming the destruction it would cast upon Lioness. The pressure was on, and two energies clashed against each other; one stood tall to protect while the other came like a tsunami wanting to swallow everything. The air became even heavier as the spell tried to break through, pushing, causing the mana to condense into a single, unstoppable descent, creating torrents of shockwaves that made the dome shake even more.

The tremors increased, though no cracks could be seen. The shared power of the mages' spells and the natural barrier bought them some time until Liam's return.

Eros assembled the army, not letting them break their formation. They needed to stand still and survive until reinforcement came, even if the hope was slim.

A second went by, and they continued to endure the heavy strike of the enemy, but a voice made them panic.

"Young master, the second circle is activating!" cried the guard, seeing the fifteen rings burning into another spell. The towering flames ignited once more as the spell turned its body into a mix of different elements. Another spell was cast, turning the cluster of elements into a single ray of destruction. As the rioting powers combined and turned into a torrent of divine flame, igniting even more than before.

The pressure increased tenfold, forcing Eros to activate the last remaining barriers of the city.

"Just keep holding it!" he commanded.

Desperation gnawed at their minds, pushing their bodies to go beyond their limits. A young mage's hands began to tremble uncontrollably as she chanted, her face pale, sweat plastering her hair to her forehead. Eros knew that look – the edge of breaking.

If they wanted to live, If they wanted their families to survive, They must hold on. They must endure. For everything would be lost once they gave up.

The flames continued to cascade from the heavens, no longer flowing like a beam but like an endless waterfall of burning hellfire. It struck the city's barrier with a sound that was neither thunder nor explosion, but both and more. The dome of light rippled violently, shaking wildly, colors fracturing like shards of glass beneath a hammer. Towers cracked. Windows shattered. Civilians screamed, thrown from their feet. Smoke and debris filled the air, and as seconds went by, more fissures spiderwebbed across the dome's pristine surface.

This was never a good sign; they were losing and they had nothing they could use to turn the tides. The standoff continued, and at the center of the storm, Eros stood upon the inner ramparts, both hands outstretched, his veins alight with runes. Sweat poured from his brow, his sunset hair plastered to his skin, his teeth clenched so tightly his jaw bled.

"Hold it—!" he roared, his voice cracking. He couldn't speak the words, but he locked eyes with the captain behind him. A flicker of understanding passed between them – a silent vow to hold the line. The city's circle of mages chanted, their voices cracking, the whites of their eyes bloodshot. One by one, they spat blood onto the stones, the crimson mixing with the dust. The hastily erected barrier leeched their mana, draining them dry. Each pulse of energy felt like a piece of their soul being torn away. One collapsed, then another, yet still the circle held. They couldn't all fall and leave the remaining barrier to be broken.

Each hammer blow of fire. Eros pushed back. Golden threads shot from his aura, lacing the cracks in the barrier. The Eternal Oath that bound him pulsed violently in his chest, forcing him to stand tall even as his knees buckled. It kept him alive. Though his will was under its command. For the sake of survival he willingly listened to its whisper. If he faltered, even for a second — the city would burn.

At the same time, the front lines weren't the only ones having their own battles.

Within the city's heart, the main house was alive with frantic footsteps. Soldiers stormed through its ancient halls, ripping open vaults sealed for generations. Dust choked the air as they dragged out relics, some little more than broken staves, others humming faintly with dormant power.

"Butler, hurry!" barked a captain, his voice hoarse. "The young master said there is a weapon here—something that can match the monsters outside our walls!"

Liam wanted to scream. "We are in a crisis, for goodness sake!" He urged the old butler to open the treasury.

The old keeper reluctantly opened the vault, one that his master forbade him to open. As soon as the doors swung apart, Liam and the guards surged inside. Their aim was to get all the weapons that might stir the course of the fight.

Hands began to claw at forgotten tomes, at walls etched with old sigils. One soldier pushed aside a fallen tapestry to reveal a sealed chamber door, its surface carved with lion motifs and a lock glowing faintly with blood-red wards.

"This has to be it…" he whispered.

But the lock resisted, ancient and hungry. As they struggled to break it open, the roar of the divine flame outside thundered again, shaking the entire hall. Dust fell from the rafters. Time was running out.

At the same time the front lines isn't the only one having its own battles. Within the city's heart, the Manor House was alive with frantic footsteps. Soldiers stormed through its ancient halls, ripping open vaults sealed for generations. Dust choked the air as they dragged out relics, some little more than broken staves, others humming faintly with dormant power. "Butler hurry!" barked a captain, his voice hoarse. "The young master said there is a weapon here—something that can match the monsters outside our walls!" Never in Liam's life would he imagined shouting at the butler of the Lionheart duchy, but due to the circumstances he was exasperated that the old man was dead bent on following the previous orders of the duke. "We are in a crisis for goodness sake!" he said as he urged the old butler to open the treasury. Left with no option and with the situation going for the worst the old keeper reluctantly opened the vault, one that his master forbade him to open. As soon as the doors swung apart Liam and the guards that came with him sprang inside. Their aim was to get all the weapons that might stir the course of the fight. Hands began to claw at forgotten tomes, at walls etched with old sigils. One soldier pushed aside a fallen tapestry to reveal a sealed chamber door, its surface carved with lion motifs and a lock glowing faintly with blood-red wards. "This has to be it…" he whispered. But the lock resisted, ancient and hungry. As they struggled to break it open, the roar of the divine flame outside thundered again, shaking the entire hall. Dust fell from the rafters. Time was running out.

"Fucking open!" Liam shouted, his heart hammering against his ribs.

A soldier slammed his fist against the wall, sending dust raining down. "Move it, old man! We haven't got all day!" The other guards felt their frustration mount, glaring at the butler who remained rooted to the spot.

Back at the barrier, the onslaught grew worse.

The colossal spell shifted, condensing into a spear of fire, sharper than steel, aimed to pierce directly through the dome's heart. The glow painted the city in hues of rust and dried blood.

Eros' knees buckled. Blood streamed from his eyes and nose, sizzling as it hit the glowing stones beneath him. His mages screamed, their chants breaking, but he roared above them all:

"No one is allowed to give up! Raise! Do not fall!"

His aura burst outward, golden like the dawn, wrapping around the faltering mages and lending them strength. He bore the spear's weight on his shoulders, his body arching as though holding back the heavens themselves. The soldiers with him were already kneeling on the ground, their auras dwindling like lights about to extinguish.

Cracks spread along the barrier, crawling toward collapse. Citizens knelt in the streets, praying. Soldiers on the walls pressed their foreheads against their weapons, waiting for the end.

And then—

A horn sounded from the depths of the main house.

The sealed chamber broke open.

Inside, a weapon stirred — a replica, forged from a weapon that was said to rival gods. Its presence rippled across the city, a heartbeat of raw power. Soldiers raised it high, light flooding the hall.

Another horn echoed, this time from beyond the walls. The soldiers looked up to see lion sigils waving across flags. A war cry erupted from thousands of throats, a sound that resonated with the desperate hearts within the city, filling them with hope.

Back on the ramparts, Eros felt it. His bleeding lips curled into a grin.

"Finally…"

The barrier shuddered again, but this time it did not falter. Reinforcements had come not just from beyond the walls, but also from the legacy of their ancestors. In a single second, the tide changed, and a ray of light shot out, striking the purging flames that kept striking from above.

"Disperse," said a voice, and the spell shook tremendously before dissipating. The golden descending flames shattered into pieces, turning into tiny sparks that soon ceased to exist.

"What....." muttered a mage in awe, and not just him, but all the people who saw such a phenomenon were shocked. Under the power of the spell, none of the mages could interfere with its casting process even when it was fully activated; none of the spell breakers could destroy it, but for some reason, an unknown person erased it from existence. Just one command, and the entire mood of the battle shifted.

Hope began to spark, igniting the will that had almost died.