Chapter 151: Going Global

Red swiped a hand across the main console, collapsing the territorial map of the Seventeenth Continent. Claiming the continent effectively locked out the local game engine.

The war was over. The surviving pantheons answered to his throne, and the daily resource generation easily sustained his empire.

Yet, a hollow static hummed beneath his ribs.

He pulled up the macro-server display. Massive, locked continents floated in the digital void of the interface. High-tier warlords hoarded the central landmasses. Native gods, who were the true, original architects of the realms still slumbered or waged war in the uncharted sectors.

The local victory barely registered as a footnote on the global scale.

Every single vassal god under his banner had been transplanted by the system. The system simply snatched human souls from Earth, slapped a divine mantle over them, and dropped them onto the map.

However, it was different for him.

The system hadn’t summoned him.

He leaned against the edge of the obsidian throne, tracing a thumb over his dark lapel. A mortal kingdom had pulled him across the dimensional boundary.

A king sitting on a polished throne had orchestrated the spell. The memory surfaced with clarity. The chanting mages, the smell of chamber, and the royal banners hanging from the stone walls.

Had that king actually been another player, descending onto the physical map like Aurelius? Or did that specific kingdom possess an independent, unregistered summoning mechanic?

The questions spiraled back to a single, blood-stained night.

Red stared into the blank space of the monitor. The high school reunion hall materialized perfectly in his mind.

He recalled the names on the list he had gotten. Forty-five names sat on the official guest list. Some classmates skipped the event. Others were running late. And the faculty hadn’t even arrived yet.

Even though the room was filled with people, he was alone. And it gave him something to do while avoiding the shifting cliques and the awful, dragging memories attached to their faces.

There were twenty seven of his classmates in the room, gathered in different groups and doing various things. And two were the catering staff that were arranged near the buffet.

Adding himself, exactly thirty people occupied the room when the floor suddenly vanished into a blinding geometric array.

However, when the blinding light faded and the cross-dimensional drag deposited them onto the cold floor of the mortal kingdom, the chanting mages immediately panicked. The magic circle began violently tearing the throne room apart.

The ritual required thirty distinct souls to stabilize the spatial bridge.

But only twenty-nine bodies materialized.

To prevent the collapsing bridge from wiping out the entire castle, the royal mages scrambled for a sacrifice. They forcefully anchored the berserk spell by ripping Red’s soul out of his flesh, destroying his physical body entirely and leaving him as a spectral battery.

Somewhere between the high school and the kingdom’s throne room, a single person had vanished from a locked dimensional pull.

“What exactly happened at that time? And what are they doing right now?” Red wondered.

Red stared at the flashing global markers on the macro-server display. The system didn’t offer a search bar for missing souls or a visual filter for mortal architecture. He couldn’t just type their names into a console.

But he didn’t need to.

He tapped his chest, right over the core that had replaced his physical heart. The royal mages hadn’t just killed him, but they had also violently converted his human flesh into a spectral battery.

That botched, desperate ritual had left a permanent scar on his existence, that was a corrupted string of code deeply embedded in his origin data.

“Authority of the Bedrock,” Red muttered, activating the newly acquired continental perk.

Instead of scanning the physical earth of the Seventeenth Continent, he inverted the sensory grid inward. He isolated the exact magical frequency of his own death. The distinct signature of spell, crushed stone, and spilled blood from the throne room digitized on his interface as an unclear, crimson wave.

Red dragged that frequency directly onto the macro-server map.

He used his own soul-scar as a compass needle against the vast, uncharted void of the global board. The system interface hummed, processing the overlapping data.

For a few seconds, the locked continents remained perfectly still.

Then, a massive landmass near the center of the global cluster, the Fourth Continent, violently pulsed.

The crimson wave on his monitor locked onto a specific coordinate deep within its borders. The resonance was unmistakable. The exact ambient mana signature from the summoning spell still lingered heavily on that landmass.

Red zoomed in on the pulsing coordinate. The system interface outlined the territorial borders surrounding the mortal kingdom’s exact location.

Instead of an independent, sovereign faction, the kingdom’s borders were swallowed entirely by a much larger, overarching domain. Red tapped the highlighted sector to pull up the ruling hierarchy.

[ DOMAIN OWNER: RANK 20 – THE RADIANT MONARCH ]

[ STATUS: SUMMIT WARLORD (TOP 5) ]

Red let out a short, hollow laugh and leaned back against the throne.

“Of course it was a vassal state.”

He expected nothing less from this game engine. A mortal kingdom possessing the sheer magical infrastructure to tear open a cross-dimensional bridge and summon thirty human souls wouldn’t be allowed to exist independently.

They were a proxy. A farming mechanism for one of the apex predators sitting at the absolute top of the server. The king who had ordered his sacrifice was nothing more than a mid-tier manager collecting assets for a Summit Warlord.

It was an established faction operating right in the middle of a central continent. And if the kingdom was there, it meant the twenty-eight classmates who had safely materialized on the stone floor were likely there as well, living out their summoned hero fantasies while he had spent the last year crawling through a dead wasteland.

Red dismissed the frequency wave, leaving only the map of the Fourth Continent on his screen.

The ten-year reconstruction plan for his eighty vassal gods was no longer just about survival or building a border wall against the Global Gods. He was going to turn the entire Seventeenth Continent into a highly calibrated, unstoppable siege engine.

When the time came to cross the ocean, he knew exactly which kingdom he was going to burn to the ground first.

A/N- With this, the second volume has ended.

I hope you guys were okay with the pacing of the war. I wanted to go more in detail and focus on every key character and their fights. Including what was happening on the ground, in the river and sky and on the battlefield. But I also didn’t want the war to take up that many Chapters where it might have felt like dragging.

Thank you for your support. I hope you keep on supporting me and the novel, and share it with your fellow readers.

Once again, thank you for reading. I hope you have a good day.

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