Awakened Athalia

Awakened Athalia is a Legendary Celestial hero in AFK Arena. Awakened Athalia's class is Warrior.

On the combined AFK Arena tier list Awakened Athalia is S tier, 3rd of the 214 heroes ranked, from where 3 community tier lists put Awakened Athalia.

Other Celestial heroes in AFK Arena: Alna, Athalia, Audrae, Aurelia, Awakened Talene, Daemia and 18 more.

Awakened Athalia carries the title "Harbinger of Truth". Awakened Athalia is voiced by 木南いな in Japanese.

Athalia panted hard, more exhausted than she'd ever been before. The interior of the dilapidated church was covered in sword marks, a testament to her battle with the Hypogean leader before her. The keen blade she held was cracked and pitted all over, as was the armor she wore.

This particular Hypogean was not the strongest she had ever faced, but it was certainly the most troublesome, not to mention the fact that these lands, bordering the Lightbearer, were crawling with Hypogeans. She'd been fighting hordes of them almost daily, ever since she's first arrived here on the trail of that strange meteor. Days of fierce fighting had left her riddled with wounds and close to exhaustion.

Behind Athalia, the refugees who had been subjected to the torments of the Hypogeans cowered beneath a statue of the goddess Dura. They had only just arrived to seek shelter at the only church in the desolate wilderness, to walk right into the middle of this terrible conflict. Wanting to flee, they had been paralyzed by the gaze of the Hypogean leader, and could only huddle under the statue, trembling and terrified of making a sound. It was as if they hoped to go unnoticed if only they shrank back even further.

Athalia had long understood that was just how mortals were, cowardly and weak. She had once detested rebellious and ignorant mortals, but her opinion of them had changed over her years of wandering in the human world. It was as Dura had said: mortals did not possess divine power, and must therefore face difficulties no god need fear, such as disease, hunger, aging, and death...

Athalia had traveled the world after the fall of the Dura. Her blade brings divine retribution to the heretical followers of the Hypogeans. She was both revered and feared by the people, who worshiped her as a god but secretly called her a merciless executioner, and avoided her in their fear.

She had met many different types of humans over the years: veterans who bullied new recruits however they could; men who defended their border homeland alone, in the face of Mauler raiders; ferrymen who would stop in the middle of a river and extort higher fares; close friends who share their last sip of water while treasure hunting in the desert; young men, undercover in factions, feeding information about heresies back to the Temple of Light; single mothers who work three jobs, slaving away from morning to night...

But humanity can never be so simply defined by good and evil. Just when you think you know someone's true character, they can often go against your expectations.

The old veteran who protects the new recruit by blocking the enemy's sword with his own body; the lone man defending his home takes a mortal wound from behind; the ferryman uses his life savings to build a bridge over the river; the friends who shared their water ultimately fails to share the treasure; the targets in the young man's intelligence report were all outsiders; the daughter of the busy mother doesn't want to marry a rich businessman, yet is forced into a corner...

Athalia gradually came to understand the teachings of the goddess:

"The same person will kill when they are starving, yet care when they are sated. Humans are so complicated, you need to look at them from different perspectives."

In reality, humans were even more complicated than Dura had said. Sometimes, both killing and caring were unconnected to hunger or satiety. Rich merchants who have all they could possibly need amass still more wealth by any means, while ordinary people, hungry and cold, could nevertheless show solicitude to total strangers.

Despite being regarded as a ruthless god, Athalia had still experienced the kindness of humans on many occasions, who expected nothing in return.

A destitute little girl thanked her with a handmade doll; a disabled blacksmith rescued her from the wilderness when she was seriously injured, and repaired her shattered blade with mortal iron... While these sorts of experience were infrequent, they gave her an inkling of something uniquely humane, something even the gods did not possess.

In the past, she had a binary view of humans, they were either totally good or totally bad. She made her judgments with Hypogean corruption as the sole criterium, and executed justice on wicked heretics like a ruthless weapon. But humans cannot be so simply categorized. They often wavering between good and evil, and can fall into the darkness with but a single misstep.

Thus she became a sharp sword hanging high above Esperia, hoping to prevent the scales of human hearts from too easily tipping over to the evil side. But for those who dared seek out the darkness of their own accord, never would her blade show the slightest hint of mercy. No longer was she just an unfeeling weapon, but a god who used her power more selectively when wielding her weapon.

Inside the church Athalia was forced back by the Hypogean leader. Her blade, repaired by the blacksmith, shattered into pieces, and she could barely keep her feet. The Hypogean sneered malevolently at her, mocking her powerlessness. The timid mortals who prostrated themselves at the statue's foot would soon follow the Hypogeans, once Athalia died. It approached her step by step, preparing to bury a god.

"Merciful Dura... Dispel fear and gloom from the world..." "May the... Divine Light save these souls, tormented by the Hypogeans..."

Quavering voices arose in the crowd as the refugees spontaneously began to pray, for themselves as well as for Athalia. Their voices became louder and firmer, the Hypogean's glare was now unable to quell them for even a moment. The trickle of prayer became a torrent which echoed throughout the church, suppressing even the mocking malevolence of the Hypogean.

Perhaps the goddess had heeded the mortals' prayer, as Athalia's body began glowing with a faint incandescence. Light gathered, and condensed behind her into a shimmering blade, and an intense radiance surged out of her. Athalia rose into the air, bathed in light, her body transformed into a giant sword, the dazzling brilliance of which seemed to pierce the ceiling of the church.

From the vault of heaven, down crashed the great sword.