Idle Mage: Humanity's Strongest Backer



The battlefield trembled under the relentless assault of the Celestial God. Despite their unwavering resolve, the Grand Commanders found themselves pushed to their limits, their bodies strained and battered by the overwhelming power of their divine foe.

Alice, the Sword Empress, fought with every ounce of her strength and skill, her blade dancing through the air in a desperate attempt to pierce the Celestial God's defenses. But her strikes were parried effortlessly, each blow met with an unyielding celestial force. Fatigue seeped into her muscles, her movements slowing, as she struggled to keep up with the godly speed and strength of her adversary.

The Titan, Blake, unleashed his mighty blows, each strike infused with the raw power of the earth. But the Celestial God proved to be an immovable force, his celestial armor deflecting even the most devastating of attacks. Blake's muscles screamed in protest as he strained against the celestial resistance, his energy waning with each passing moment.

Mary, the Oracle Sage, tapped into the vast well of her mystical powers, summoning celestial energies in a desperate bid to turn the tide of the battle. But the Celestial God seemed immune to her spells, his divine aura devouring her mystic forces with ease. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon her, her body growing weaker with each failed attempt to breach his celestial defenses.

As the battle raged on, the Grand Commanders fought with all their might, their spirits refusing to yield to despair. But the Celestial God's power seemed boundless, his attacks relentless and devastating. The ground quaked beneath their feet, cracks spreading like spiderwebs, as the very fabric of reality strained under the weight of their clash.

With a thunderous roar, the Celestial God unleashed a cataclysmic wave of celestial energy, overwhelming the Grand Commanders in a blinding explosion of power. The force of the blast sent them hurtling through the air, their bodies battered and broken. Pain coursed through their beings, their strength fading, as they struggled to rise against the insurmountable odds.

As they gathered their last ounces of strength, the Grand Commanders realized the inevitable truth – their defeat was imminent. The Celestial God loomed over them, his celestial aura pulsating with victory. Despite their valiant efforts, they had been outmatched by a force beyond mortal comprehension.

In the face of defeat, a bittersweet acceptance washed over the Grand Commanders. They had fought with every fiber of their being, giving their all to protect humanity. But in this ultimate clash, the celestial might of the Celestial God proved too formidable to overcome.

As darkness descended upon the battlefield, the defeated Grand Commanders cast one final glance at each other, a silent understanding passing between them. Their sacrifice and unwavering determination would forever be etched into the annals of history.

With their heads held high, the Grand Commanders accepted their fate, knowing that their sacrifice would ignite a flame of resilience and defiance in the hearts of humanity. The war was not over, even with their defeat. Their legacy would live on, inspiring future generations to rise against the forces that threatened their existence.

As the Celestial God's triumphant laughter echoed through the desolate battlefield, the Grand Commanders embraced their destiny, their spirits unbroken even in the face of defeat.

As the dust settled on the battlefield, a heavy silence descended upon the ranks of humanity's army. A profound sorrow filled the air, weighing down the hearts of the soldiers like an unbearable burden. Tears welled in their eyes, streaming down their faces, as they gazed upon the fallen forms of their revered Grand Commanders.

A collective anguish swept through the ranks, their grief reverberating in the air. The soldiers stood motionless, their faces etched with deep sorrow and disbelief. The vibrant energy that once coursed through their veins had been extinguished, replaced by a numbing sense of loss that seemed to suffocate them.

Whispers of disbelief and despair mingled with quiet sobs, as the soldiers struggled to come to terms with the reality of their fallen leaders. Their voices, once filled with courage and determination, were now hushed, choked by the weight of sorrow. It felt as if a piece of their very souls had been torn away, leaving behind an unfillable void.

Knees buckled beneath the weight of sorrow, soldiers crumbled to the ground, their hands clutching at their chests as if trying to ease the pain that seared within. Their grief was a heavy shroud that enveloped them, casting a pall of melancholy over the battlefield.

The camaraderie that had bound them together now felt frayed and fragile. They searched for solace in the eyes of their comrades, finding only mirrored reflections of their own sorrow. Each heartache echoed in the air, weaving a tapestry of shared anguish that transcended individual pain.

The fallen Grand Commanders had been more than leaders to the soldiers; they had been beacons of hope, guiding lights in the darkest of times. Their loss struck a devastating blow, leaving the soldiers adrift in a sea of sorrow, unsure of how to navigate the turbulent waves of grief.

In this sorrowful scene, the soldiers clung to memories of their fallen leaders, desperately clinging to the fading remnants of their strength. They mourned not only the loss of their commanders but also the dreams and aspirations that had been shattered in an instant.

The weight of their sorrow seemed unbearable, threatening to drown them in a sea of despair. Yet, in the midst of this somber moment, a flicker of resilience emerged. The soldiers, though battered by grief, found solace in the shared bond of their sorrow. They drew strength from each other, offering comfort and support amidst their collective heartache.

With heavy hearts and tear-stained faces, the soldiers began to gather the fallen Grand Commanders, their movements slow and reverent. Each fallen hero was cradled with the utmost care, their sacrifices honored in this solemn procession. Tears fell freely as they carried their fallen leaders, their footsteps heavy with the weight of loss.

As the soldiers paid their final respects to the fallen Grand Commanders, a poignant silence settled over the battlefield. It was a moment of profound sadness, a poignant reminder of the cost of war. In the midst of their sorrow, the soldiers vowed to carry on their legacy, to fight with unwavering resolve, and to honor their memory with every step they took on the path to victory.

Though sorrow clung to their hearts like a shadow, the soldiers stood together, united in their grief. They would press on, driven by the indomitable spirit of their fallen leaders, forging ahead in the face of unimaginable loss. Their sorrow would fuel their determination, reminding them of the stakes at hand and the need to protect the world they held dear.

As the dust settled and the defeated soldiers mourned their fallen leaders, the Celestial God stood amidst the wreckage, his victory undeniable. But amidst the echoes of triumph, a faint twinge of unease tugged at his divine essence. Despite the resounding success, a lingering feeling gnawed at his consciousness, an intangible sense that something was amiss.

In the depths of his being, the Celestial God grappled with a strange restlessness, a fleeting dissatisfaction that eluded his grasp. He surveyed the battlefield, his eyes scanning the desolation that lay before him, searching for answers to this unexplained disquiet.

The Celestial God's thoughts churned with fragments of memory, piecing together the remnants of prophecies and ancient whispers. A spark of recognition flared within him, a flicker of remembrance that illuminated the depths of his divine mind. He recalled the whispers of the Child of Prophecy, a being said to possess immeasurable power and the ability to shape the fate of worlds.

But where was this Child of Prophecy? In the aftermath of his triumph, the Celestial God pondered the absence of the one who had been foretold to challenge his dominion. A sense of urgency welled within him, an eagerness to locate this enigmatic figure and fulfill the ancient prophecies.

Amidst the wreckage of the battlefield, the Celestial God's thoughts resonated in a silent dialogue with himself. "Where is the Child of Prophecy?" he questioned, his voice reverberating with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. He contemplated the implications of the missing figure, the unknown element that threatened to unravel his carefully laid plans

The battle may have been won, the Grand Commanders defeated, but the absence of the Child of Prophecy lingered as an unresolved mystery. The Celestial God knew that the fate of his grand design hinged upon this missing piece, the one who held the potential to tip the scales in favor of his enemies.

With a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, the Celestial God vowed to unravel the enigma of the Child of Prophecy. The echoes of battle and victory faded into the background as he embarked on a quest to locate the one who had eluded his gaze.

He searched high and low. Eyes roamed across the battlefield that he made. Even going as far as scouring the whole Blue Marble Planet in attempts to locate his main target all along. Unfortunately, his search bore no results. 

That was when he suddenly sensed a presence right next to him that caused a shiver to run down his spine. 

There, he saw him...the one he's been looking for, smiling at him as if all of this had nothing to do with him. And he had the absolute gall to ask:

"Hey there! Looking for me?"