Chapter 191: Talk with the Native God, Sending the Second Voyage

The God of the Tenth Continent towered over the physical space. Snow-white hair flowed down his broad shoulders like liquid glass. He wore seamless ivory garments layered with heavy plates of pale gold.

A fractured, geometric halo orbited slowly around his head, casting harsh, shifting shadows across the room. Valerius opened his eyes to reveal solid, burning gold irises filled with constant streams of microscopic data.

“What do you need help with?” Valerius asked. His voice echoed with world-shattering weight.

Red narrowed his dark eyes at the towering giant. He felt a deep surge of displeasure at the uninvited physical intrusion into his most secure domain. He had no choice but to tolerate the blatant display of power from the ancient deity for now.

“Before we address the main issue,” Red said smoothly, remaining seated in his chair. “Is there a specific system mechanic to permanently revoke someone’s access to my sanctuary?”

Valerius crossed his massive arms over his chest. The geometric halo spun slightly faster around his head.

“Is keeping visitors out the matter you needed my expertise for?” Valerius asked, a hint of amusement rumbling in his heavy voice.

“No,” Red replied flatly.

“The system allows any two deities recognized as ’friends’ to manifest in each other’s sanctuaries at will,” Valerius explained. He glanced around the dark void of Red’s domain with mild interest. “The foundational rules dictate that gods cannot directly harm one another while inside these personal spaces. Of course, those restrictions do not apply to a Native God like myself. We bypass those fragile mortal boundaries entirely.”

Red absorbed the thinly veiled threat without breaking eye contact. He understood exactly how dangerous the Native God was, and the giant wanted to ensure Red never forgot it.

“Fascinating,” Red noted, dismissing the posturing.

He turned back to his Sovereign interface and swiped his hand across the console to summon a massive holographic projection in the center of the room. He tapped directly into Warlord Gorak’s ongoing visual perception and cast the image outward for the giant to witness.

The projection displayed the colossal aquatic abyss raging on the distant western coastline. Massive walls of black seawater spiraled into the sky, framing the unnatural crimson storms and the endless tide of winged beasts pouring from the dimensional tear.

“This is what I actually need your help with,” Red stated, gesturing to the catastrophic anomaly. “Tell me exactly what I am looking at.”

The golden data streams in Valerius’s eyes shifted rapidly as he analyzed the holographic projection. He frowned, a rare expression of uncertainty crossing his stoic features. The fractured, geometric halo orbiting his head noticeably slowed its rotation.

“I do not recognize this anomaly,” Valerius admitted, his voice tinged with genuine confusion.

Red leaned forward on his hovering throne and narrowed his eyes at the giant. “Could this be the work of another Native God? A territorial dispute or a deliberate attack?”

“No,” Valerius replied, shaking his head. He studied the crimson storms raging within the abyssal tear. “This is something entirely different. Something new. Unprecedented spatial glitches and anomalies like this keep tearing through the world’s fabric lately, and none of the Native Gods know the exact reason behind them.”

Red let out a long, frustrated sigh. He stared at the endless tide of winged beasts pouring from the colossal aquatic rift.

“Is there a definitive way to close it?” Red asked. “This migration is a never-ending drain on my border defenses. I cannot have an infinite spawn point of apex predators bleeding my forces dry.”

“I will contact the other Native Gods and discuss this specific breach with them,” Valerius decided. He turned his burning gold eyes away from the projection and locked them onto Red. “Do not mess with that rift, Rubedo. Order your forces to fall back and maintain a safe perimeter until we uncover exactly what is on the other side.”

A blinding flash of golden light illuminated the room once more. Valerius vanished entirely from the sanctuary without waiting for a response.

Red rubbed his temples and let out another heavy sigh. The dark void returned to its usual dim lighting, leaving him alone with the catastrophic holographic display.

“I cannot keep Gorak stationed at the western coast,” Red muttered to the empty room. He closed the projection with an irritated flick of his wrist. “I needed to send him on the next voyage to the Second Continent to break the enemy lines. Now I have no choice but to leave him here to hold the border.”

He tapped his Sovereign console to reopen the telepathic connection to the distant cliffside.

[ Warlord, ] Red commanded through the mental bond.

Gorak stood motionless before the towering walls of black seawater, his war-axe gripped tightly in his hands.

[ I hear you, Sovereign. Do I attack? ]

[ You fall back, ] Red instructed grimly. [ Establish a permanent perimeter around the anomaly and contain any beasts that slip through. You are staying on the Seventeenth Continent for now. ]

Gorak let out a low, disappointed growl, but he did not argue. He was having fun killing the flying monsters.

He turned his back on the raging abyss and began the long march back to the Trinity Hive.

Exactly one week later, the City of the Spiral shook beneath the synchronized march of half a million soldiers.

Ten colossal ironclad dreadnoughts waited in the eastern harbor, their massive hulls displacing enough water to create artificial tides along the docks. Each floating fortress was designed to carry fifty thousand troops, making them look more like mobile cities than naval vessels.

The sheer diversity of the mobilized army painted a chaotic, terrifying picture of Red’s absolute dominion. Heavily armored Orc warlords marched alongside ethereal spellcasters, while thousands of feral beast-kin scaled the massive boarding ramps to claim their territories on the lower decks.

Red observed the massive embarkation through his Sovereign interface from the dark void of his sanctuary. He calculated the logistics of the ocean crossing as the final regiments boarded the dreadnoughts.

This entire fleet would sail directly for the western shipyards of the Second Continent. Old-Shell currently fortified that eastern harbor with a garrison of ten thousand Vanguard soldiers. However, now the main focus was at the western ports from where they were going to enter the third continent.

Red opened the channel to Iron-Scale and contacted him.

[ Iron-Scale, ] Red projected. [ The first reinforcement fleet of five hundred thousand troops has officially departed the capital. They will dock at the Western shipyards in due time. ]

Thousands of miles across the sea, Iron-Scale received the message just as he completed his own journey.

He stood at the head of forty thousand battle-hardened Vanguard troops, successfully navigating them through the l gates of the Second Continent’s capital city.

The local alliance forces lined the massive stone streets of the capital. They gripped their weapons tightly and watched the incoming army with a tense mixture of awe and deep-seated apprehension.

Iron-Scale raised a clawed hand to halt his marching columns. He remembered his Sovereign’s strict instructions to respect the local ideals and maintain the fragile alliance at all costs.

The Commander adjusted his star-iron sword belt, stepped forward, and offered a formal, surprisingly respectful bow to the armored generals waiting on the capital steps.

Red watched the diplomatic exchange through his system interface and offered a satisfied nod. The pieces were finally moving into place.

To win the war against the fourth continent, the second continent needed to be secured from all sides. And the third continent played a crucial role in it.

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