I Got My System Late, But I'll Become Beastgod-Chapter 116: Reinforcement Arrived

The battlefield was a graveyard of chaos.

Smoke curled into the storm-torn sky as fire devoured the wounded land. Craters from magic blasts still steamed, and blood soaked the cracked stones where once there had been streets, homes... peace.

Bodies—soldiers, beasts, mages—lay motionless under the roiling clouds.

At the center of it all, veiled in a shimmering obsidian sphere, Ivanka floated, her long black hair whipping around her like tendrils of night.

Her eyes were closed. Her arms were raised. And around her—souls screamed as the barrier harvested the death surrounding her like a black sun devouring light.

She was drawing in the dead. Feeding off pain. And growing stronger.

Aamir stood at the front, muscles tensed, his breath shallow. His blade rested at his side, twitching with barely restrained energy. He stared at the barrier—still intact, save for one thin, glowing crack, flickering like lightning across glass.

Every second lost meant another comrade dead.

"Everyone," Aamir’s voice rang out like a war drum, clear and unyielding. "Use your strongest attack. Focus it where the barrier cracked!"

—

Inside the barrier, Ivanka opened her eyes, a cruel smile playing across her lips.

"Even if you break it, boy... you’ll only die faster."

Her voice echoed unnaturally, amplified by the barrier, as if it spoke from another realm entirely.

—

Far across the field, Haider Ali bled from a dozen wounds, locked in combat with five enemy generals. His armor was cracked, his sword chipped—but his back remained straight, his spirit unbroken. Through gritted teeth, he shouted:

"Why, Ivanka?! Why bring so much death?!"

Ivanka’s gaze flicked toward him, her eyes colder than winter’s breath.

"Ask your king, Haider."

—

King Veerendra, standing on a rise nearby, clenched his jaw. The weight of guilt pressed on his shoulders like a mountain. His eyes, shadowed with memory, finally lifted as he spoke:

"Ivanka... this is madness."

"He was my friend. Your father... he was the King of Calonia. And he trusted me."

"I still bear that guilt."

Ivanka’s composure snapped. Her lips twisted in rage. Her voice cracked with fury:

"Now you feel guilt?! You killed the man who trusted you more than his own blood!"

"I don’t care how many I have to kill. This war... is justice for my father!"

—

Aamir’s fists trembled. His heart pounded like a war drum inside his chest. He barely had time to process what he’d just heard.

"So this is revenge... a king’s betrayal... but I don’t have time to understand it all."

"These people—my people—will die if I stand still!"

—

A sudden gust of wind stirred the dust beside him.

A tall figure appeared, as silent as the blade he carried.

"Commander," said a calm voice.

Aamir turned, and his eyes widened.

It was Kiyoshi, the ghostlike swordmaster of Aryavrata, clad in white robes, his katana sheathed but humming with anticipation.

"What’s the situation?"

Aamir pointed at Ivanka without looking away from her.

"We need to break the barrier and stop her. That’s your target."

Kiyoshi gave a curt nod, eyes narrowing.

"Understood, Commander."

—

Across the battlefield, Aryavrata stirred.

Wounded soldiers lifted their weapons. Healers wrapped hands in glowing magic. The hopeless found purpose again.

And the elites prepared their final moves.

Seenu’s rusty katana, long underestimated, now blazed with sky-blue fire, divine energy coiling around the blade like a dragon made of light.

Meera’s twin daggers pulsed, adrenaline energy sparking off her like a living storm as she shifted into a dancer’s stance.

Riya’s hands shimmered, not with runes or spells, but with raw, formless magic—a mage who had learned to cast without incantation.

Kunal’s eyes glowed with silver fire, activating his second ability. His dual blades floated around him in phantom circles, ready to strike.

Raj, who rarely drew his weapon, pulled out a broad-bladed sword. His aura shifted—calm, measured, and deadly. Each breath became a calculation. Each step, a threat.

Kiyoshi drew his katana, its surface cold, glowing faintly with celestial light. He whispered a prayer, inaudible but sacred.

—

And then Aamir—

He stepped forward, gripping the hilt of his obsidian blade.

"Luman," he said, his voice quiet. "Can I use Blue Phoenix Flame Punch through my sword?"

⚙️ "Do it. Don’t ask. You’ll understand soon."

His black sword pulsed with crimson veins, alive, responding to his adrenaline energy.

Blue flames erupted from it—phoenix fire, laced with power and grief and rage. His coat whipped behind him in the heat.

"To all Aryavratan soldiers capable of fighting—

JOIN ME! Focus everything on the barrier!"

Hundreds moved. Mages conjured. Archers notched arrows glowing with energy. Sword wielders, bloodied but breathing, gathered behind him.

This was no longer Aamir’s fight.

This was Aryavrata’s last stand.

"On my mark!"

"One..."

"Two..."

"THREE—LAUNCH!!"

—

A blinding storm of light and power roared across the battlefield.

Seenu’s almighty slash cleaved through air, echoing with blue flame’s power.

Riya’s spiraling magic arrow twisted like a comet toward the crack.

Meera’s Razorstorm howled like a banshee.

Raj’s pressure pulse compressed space as it struck.

Kunal’s phantom spin became a blur of slicing death.

Kiyoshi’s Crescent Sever split the sky in half.

And at last—

Aamir’s flame-infused crescent slash, wrapped in phoenix fire, carved through reality itself.

BOOM.

The barrier shattered like glass, sending shards of black magic flying like deadly stars. A shockwave exploded outward, knocking back clouds and parting the smoke.

When the dust settled—

Ivanka still stood.

But the barrier was gone.

She was exposed.

And above her hands floated a monstrous orb—a Death Sphere, humming with annihilation. As large as a house, pulsing like a dying star.

—

"NOW! ATTACK—!" Aamir roared—

But a voice boomed across the battlefield, deeper than thunder, colder than space:

"It’s completed."

"Now... DIE."

The sphere launched.

Straight for Aamir.

—

His system flared violently in his mind.

DEATH SEAL SPHERE UNLEASHED

No counter found

DEFLECT: Impossible

EVASION: Impossible

RECOMMENDED: Self-preservation—run

Aamir couldn’t move.

"Is this... how I die?"

—

CRASH.

Veerendra slammed into the ground before him, golden armor cracked but gleaming. He raised his sword, and a radiant shield formed—glowing brighter than the sun, struggling to contain the sphere’s energy.

"I can’t stop it... but I can hold it."

Haider Ali appeared beside him, spinning his sword in a circle—creating a second shield layered behind Veerendra’s.

"Go! You’re the future of Aryavrata!"

"But my lord—"

"No ’but’, Aamir!" Veerendra bellowed, eyes blazing.

"As long as Aryavrata has youths like you, we have hope. GO!"

Seenu grabbed Aamir’s arm and pulled him back.

—

Just then—four cloaked figures materialized in perfect formation around the Death Sphere.

Each slammed a glowing disc into the earth.

"Teleportation Anchor Points... Set."

"Activating Emergency Void Transfer!"

A dome of pure light surged upward.

The Death Sphere vanished inside it.

A second later—

BOOOOOOM!

Far beyond the horizon, a nuclear-scale explosion lit up the sky. A mushroom cloud soared into the heavens. The earth shook beneath everyone’s feet.

But the battlefield was untouched.

The death... had been diverted.

Silence.

Then—cheers.

Cries of relief, of survival, of victory.

But Aamir did not cheer.

He stood there, motionless, his sword still humming.

Eyes locked where the sphere had vanished.

"What just happened...?"

The battlefield was still reeling from the redirected Death Sphere when the four cloaked figures stepped forward, their robes swirling in the wind like shadows given form. They moved with purpose, grace, and silent power.

They halted in front of King Veerendra, dropped to one knee, and bowed.

"Lord Veerendra," the one in the center said, lifting his hood to reveal a silver-haired man with sharp crimson eyes.

"We have come to aid you in this battle. Lord Hyun Min-jae of Carnelia sends his regards. More soldiers are on their way."

Aamir’s eyes widened. His heart skipped.

"Carnelia? They’re... from Carnelia?"

Before anyone could respond, another presence appeared beside Haider Ali, silent as the night breeze. A hand rested on Haider’s armored shoulder.

"Hmm. Looks like I’m a bit late."

Haider turned sharply—then smiled.

"You..."

It was Shinroku, the spear-wielding envoy from Kyokai, his long black coat fluttering, and a jade pendant glowing faintly at his chest.

"Lord Veerendra," Shinroku said, now facing the king,

"An army ten thousand strong from Kyokai is marching this way. They’ll be here within the hour. We stand with Aryavrata."

Then more shadows moved across the field.

Sinki, Kiyoto, and Shirou emerged from the smoke, each radiating a dangerous calm. Their arrival was like the sharp inhale before a storm.

Sinki walked straight to Aamir, cracking his knuckles with a sly grin.

"Looks like you’re in trouble, huh?"

"But don’t worry—we’re here to clean up."

Aamir, breathing heavy, couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle.

"Hah... you damn Kyokaians. Always late to the party."

Riya rushed to Aamir’s side, worry written all over her face. She raised her hands and chanted a small spell, her fingertips glowing with pale green light as she began healing him.

Suddenly, his system pulsed, glowing with crimson radiance.

System Update: Swordmaster’s Disciple – Level 3

Reward Unlocked: Instant Recovery Extension

Effect: Heals user and all nearby allies to battle-ready state.

➤ Do you wish to activate?

"Hmph. So this time, you’re actually asking," Luman’s voice said in his head, "Not like in Vedangiri when you blindly used it against the Abyssal Thornfiend."

Aamir looked at Riya and spoke in a low voice.

"Riya... I need your help. I can heal everyone right now—but I need you to pretend it was your spell, okay?"

"What?" Riya blinked. "Why? And how do you even have something like—"

"No time to explain," Aamir cut in. "Please. Just trust me."

Riya hesitated... then gave a small nod.

"Okay. I’ll do it."

"Luman. Activate the reward."

A burst of warm, golden light enveloped Aamir, rising like the sun over a war-torn horizon. Then, in a sudden pulse, it exploded outward like a healing shockwave.

Across the entire battlefield, wounds began to mend. Broken bones realigned. Cuts closed. Magic reserves surged back.

Even Veerendra and Haider Ali, still shielding themselves moments ago, felt the warm energy soak into their skin, rejuvenating them.

All of Aamir’s friends—Seenu, Meera, Raj, Kunal, Kiyoshi—looked around in wonder.

"What... was that?"

"Did... you do this, Aamir?" Haider asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Aamir quickly looked at Riya.

"No sir," he said. "It was Riya."

Riya, who had never lied in her life, stumbled on her words.

"A-ah, yes! Yes sir. It was me. A... a healing spell I learned recently."

Anyone watching could tell she was a terrible liar. Her face was bright red. Her voice cracked.

But no one pushed further. No one wanted to. Not now. Not after what they’d just survived.

—

On the far side of the battlefield, still kneeling in the cracked earth, Ivanka gritted her teeth, blood seeping from her mouth.

"Damn those Carnelian rats..." she growled, spitting to the side.

"They’re always such a pain in the ass."

She coughed violently, her body trembling from the recoil of using the Death Sphere.

"Heal me," she snarled at one of her lieutenants.

"I’ll kill them all again."

Her eyes glowed like coals in a dying fire—but her will remained unbroken.

The war wasn’t over.

Not yet.

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