My Skeleton Soldier Is Strange - Chapter 220

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 220
Kim Jae-beom’s blade, embedded in the Archangel’s chest, vibrated violently as if sensing the final pulse of a dying heart. The crimson runes etched upon the sword blazed with light, burrowing deep into the Archangel’s essence and draining every last vestige of divine power that remained.
In a silence where time itself seemed to freeze, the Archangel’s body began to transform. His skin fractured, and through the widening cracks, faint luminescence seeped forth. The fissures spread relentlessly across his entire form.
When the Archangel’s body became completely covered in fractures, his flesh began to shatter like glass, fragmenting into countless pieces. The shards transmuted into particles of light, scattering into the void.
Then Arulan moved with deliberate steps. His black cloak billowed without wind, and his pallid face remained utterly expressionless, betraying no emotion. He stood at the edge of the Crater and tapped the air with his fingertips.
‘Tap. Tap.’
A simple sound, yet its resonance seemed to shake the very fabric of space. Everything on the Battlefield froze. Even the scattering particles of light hung suspended in the air.
Arulan’s fingers trembled slightly, and a strange transformation began in his palm. What initially appeared as black beads of perspiration gradually increased in size and density. It was a gelatinous substance.
The black gel began to flow between Arulan’s fingers, surging upward and shifting its form with fluid freedom. It stretched toward the empty air.
The gel rapidly expanded, spreading across the entire Crater. Like a dark cloud, it stretched wide, advancing toward the fragments of the Archangel that were transforming into particles of light.
The moment the black gel met the golden particles, a phenomenon occurred. The gel began to envelop the light particles. The black substance consumed the Archangel’s fragments one by one.
Trapped within the black gel, the golden particles seemed to resist momentarily. They burned brighter within the substance, struggling to escape. But the gel’s pressure was immense, and the light particles gradually dimmed.
The Archangel’s fragments trapped within the black gel began to transform slowly. The golden radiance darkened gradually, shifting to gray, and finally to black.
Arulan observed this entire process with cold, unwavering eyes. As his fingers moved once more, the fragments within the black gel began to draw toward one another.
The fragments started to fuse together.
At first they formed only small clusters, but gradually their size increased. The Archangel’s shattered body began to take form once more.
Remarkably, the Archangel’s body was not destroyed. Under the influence of the black gel, his form was being reconstructed. Yet the shape that emerged was distinctly different from before.
First, the armor transformed. The armor that had gleamed with golden radiance now turned black, dark and deep as the Abyss itself. Crimson runes began to etch themselves across its surface.
The six wings also changed. The feathered wings became leathery in form. Their size and majesty remained overwhelming. Sharp spines sprouted along the wings’ edges, and crimson runes adorned their surfaces.
The Archangel’s face—or rather, the face of what must now be called the Fallen Angel—also transformed. The silver mask became black, and the eyes glimpsed through its cracks no longer shone gold but burned with crimson light. His skin grew pallid, and his hair shifted from pure white to black as night.
The regenerated body had been completely remade in a form infused with dark magic. It was no longer a celestial being, but a new entity bearing the power of darkness. Yet its majesty and overwhelming presence remained undiminished.
Arulan raised his hand, exerting complete control over the black gel. The substance now fully permeated the Fallen Angel’s body. His entire form blazed intensely with black light for a brief moment before stabilizing.
The Fallen Angel slowly opened his eyes. Confusion and fury burned in his crimson gaze. He raised his hand as if to examine his transformed appearance. The black armor, the crimson runes, the leathery wings—all were foreign to him, yet simultaneously, they were now part of his very being.
Arulan nodded with satisfaction. He extended his hand toward the Fallen Angel.
The Fallen Angel seemed to resist for a moment, but then his eyes changed. Confusion vanished, leaving only the light of obedience. He slowly lowered his head, awaiting Arulan’s command.
Then Kim Jae-beom moved forward with measured steps toward the Fallen Angel. His gait was light yet carried unmistakable power. He walked across the shattered Land toward the center of the Crater. His crimson cloak fluttered in the faintest breeze.
The red cloak blazed with brilliant radiance.
Then it happened.
A soft whisper of sound.
Upon sensing Kim Jae-beom’s approach, the Fallen Angel bowed even deeper. His black wings folded slightly, assuming a posture of submission. The majesty he had once enjoyed as a celestial being had vanished, replaced entirely by a servile attitude toward his new master.
Kim Jae-beom came to a halt directly before the Fallen Angel. He gazed upward at this colossal being for a moment. The blackened armor, the leathery wings, the body inscribed with crimson runes—all now radiated not holiness but the power of darkness.
“Excellent.”
Kim Jae-beom’s voice was quiet, yet satisfaction resonated within it. After observing the Fallen Angel for some time, he finally raised his hand, pointing toward his shoulder.
“Show me your new power.”
At his command, the Fallen Angel nodded slowly without a word. The movement was mechanical. All his actions now existed solely to serve the will of his new masters.
The Fallen Angel slowly rose to his feet. From his kneeling position, he gradually straightened, standing fully upright. His height remained overwhelming. His form, towering over ten meters tall, rose majestically even within the Crater.
After a brief silence, the Fallen Angel began to move the wings on his back. What started as a subtle tremor gradually intensified. The six wings began to unfold slowly, yet with unmistakable purpose.
When the wings fully extended, the sight was overwhelming. The leathery black wings now stretched more than twenty meters on either side. The spines adorning the wing tips gleamed as they reflected light.
The Fallen Angel’s body began to rise slowly from the ground. As his feet lifted from the earth, the surrounding stones and soil rose with him, defying gravity. He ascended higher and higher, finally reaching a height of some ten meters above the Crater.
Suspended in the air, the Fallen Angel resembled a being from mythology itself. His black armor seemed to absorb light, and his six wings spread so wide they appeared to blot out the Sky.
The Fallen Angel raised his right hand slowly. His fingers moved with subtle precision, tracing something into the empty air. Black mist flowed from his fingertips, coalescing into intricate patterns.
The moment the pattern completed, the Sky itself began to twist. What started as a faint ripple soon transformed into a rift that tore through space itself. Between the cracks, a profound darkness beckoned.
As the rift widened further, something began to emerge from within. At first, it was merely a hazy silhouette, but gradually the form grew sharper and more defined. They were blades. One, two, three… dozens of swords revealed themselves through the spatial tear.
Black-light swords materialized from the Sky. Each blade towered twice the size of an ordinary weapon, their forms breathtakingly beautiful. The edges gleamed dark as the Abyss itself, while the hilts were adorned with crimson gems. Intricate patterns were etched across each blade’s surface—patterns that matched perfectly with those inscribed upon the Fallen Angel’s armor and wings.
The swords hovered suspended in the air, moving with subtle, lifelike grace. They orbited the Fallen Angel in a perfect circle, radiating overwhelming power. Darkness rose like smoke from each blade’s edge, and the tendrils of shadow enveloped him completely.
The Fallen Angel’s gaze intensified. He moved his hand once more, commanding the swords with absolute control. Following his gestures, the blades shifted formation, weaving through countless patterns. Sometimes they aligned in straight lines, sometimes in circles, and sometimes in complex geometric arrangements.
Kim Jae-beom observed them and nodded quietly to himself.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
With each movement of the swords, echoes of darkness lingered in the air.
These dark reverberations gradually spread outward as time passed, staining the surrounding space with shadow.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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