Chapter 422: 422

As if to punctuate his words, a heavy, dramatic thud reverberated through the building, shaking its foundations. Nwadiebeube and the others exchanged startled glances, thinking it was some kind of illusion or aftershock. But then, another thud followed, closer this time, more forceful.

Nwadiebeube, followed closely by his council members and the princess, rushed to the balcony. What they saw there stole their breath away.

In the distance, yet undeniably massive, was the largest apeling Nwadiebeube had ever seen. Its size was staggering, dwarfing anything he had previously witnessed. The apeling was clad in gleaming armor, and it carried an enormous pillar.

A closer look at the pillar revealed strange, never-before-seen runes etched into its surface. Ikem, the apeling, seemed to sense their observation. He turned his gaze towards them, and upon recognizing Nwadiebeube, he looked away dismissively, continuing his deliberate, earth-shaking stride. Each step was accompanied by another resounding thud, a testament to the apeling’s immense size and power.

The sight was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. This was no ordinary apeling. This was something… more. The sheer scale of the creature, the strange runes, and the casual dismissal of their presence sent a clear message: They were witnessing something far beyond their comprehension, something that dwarfed their own concerns and struggles. The zealots’ departure, the destruction of the city, the arrival of this colossal apeling—it all pointed to a larger conflict, a cosmic drama unfolding before their very eyes. And they, the kings and rulers of men, were merely insignificant spectators.

And so they watched in silence as Ikem continued his walk as he went past their city and heading off into the distance. Looking at the giant back and the dismissive gaze, Nwadiebube clenched his fist “Someday, the will also rise to such a position”

The same horrifying spectacle was playing out across the globe, each continent bearing witness to a unique form of devastation. A chosen city would be isolated beneath a crimson dome, only to reappear moments later, transformed and devoid of its inhabitants.

The Zealots unleashed upon Ursula were those influenced by the God of Sea and Storms—shark-like figures with exaggerated features, their razor-sharp teeth dripping with a dark, watery venom. The city targeted by these Zealots had become a flooded ruin. Dark, brackish water surged through the streets, spreading outward and contaminating the surrounding lands. The red dome had vanished, leaving behind a scene of aquatic horror.

As for Maul, the Zealot he faced was a fusion of two kinds—Feathered Zealots and undead Zealots. The latter came in various forms, ranging from skeletal beings to rotting zombies and wraith-like figures. When the red dome lifted, an eerie silence settled over the city. The observatories remained strangely intact, but the people were gone. An unsettling stillness hung in the air, an overwhelming sense of emptiness. Those who dared to look closer would witness the walls and buildings crumbling into dust, as if the very life had been drained from the city. The night wind carried away the remnants, whispering through the desolation.

The city chosen for sacrifice belonged to the Silver Kingdom, though hidden Zealots—those who had forsaken their original forms—emerged from other nations, including the Björn Kingdom and several smaller realms.

On the southern continent, one of the Empire’s cities was chosen. The Zealots that arose there were the Feathered Zealots of the God of Sun and Sky. The city selected for Roth’s torment was a sprawling metropolis built within a deep canyon, perpetually shrouded in darkness. When the red dome disappeared, the city was bathed in an unnatural, blinding light. The shadows that once defined it had vanished, replaced by an oppressive radiance that burned the very air. The inhabitants were gone, leaving behind only empty streets and buildings, now exposed to the harsh, unforgiving brilliance that stood out in the night sky.

As for the remaining two demigods, their divine counterparts lacked human cities where they could implant their zealots to initiate a sacrifice.

Deep beneath the sea, within the vast underwater kingdom, two colossal figures moved across the ocean floor. On one side, Tide, in his towering giant form, carried his rune pillar, heading toward his designated location. On the other side, Flowua, in her full giant mermaid form, dragged her rune pillar, bound by chains of water, as she made her way through the depths.

Far from both demigods, a demon leviathan lay coiled around a rune pillar in an underground cavern, surrounded by the chaos of war. Above this subterranean battlefield stood a bustling city of murlocs. Once a struggling settlement, the murlocs had made significant advancements, their kingdom now resembling, though not quite equaling, the grand structures built by the two demigods.

In the depths below, the leviathan—leader of the murlocs—opened his eyes. At this moment, Aska’s gaze had turned completely dark, a clear sign that he had fully succumbed to corruption.

His downfall began after his humiliating retreat from the battle between Jaus and his divine counterpart. With nowhere else to go, Aska had returned to the murloc kingdom he had founded.

Back in his domain, regret gnawed at him. Every choice he had made since arriving in this world now seemed like a mistake. Unlucky enough to be part of a consciousness that found itself trapped in the sea ruled by two demigods, Aska had initially thrived but had failed to outpace them. His impatience had led to a critical misstep, one that now haunted him.

Merging with the leviathan for strength had been his gravest mistake. He had understood the nature of leviathans—their instincts, their behaviors—and had believed himself capable of handling the consequences. What he had not foreseen was being ensnared by the gods’ counterpart in his reckless pursuit of power, throwing his plans into disarray.

Leviathans, ancient and dominant creatures of the sea, possessed an unusual physiology. As apex predators, they had developed the habit of falling into deep, centuries-long slumbers, only stirring when attacked or driven by hunger—an event that was rare.

To normal mortal eyes, the leviathan sleeps is something normal with no urpose behind it but to the leviathan their sleeps was something different. The Leviathan’s sleep isn’t mere dormancy; it’s a form of deep meditation, a state of profound connection to the ocean’s currents and rhythms. During these extended periods, their consciousness doesn’t entirely shut down. Instead, it expands, intertwining with the very fabric of the deep sea. They become aware of subtle shifts in temperature, pressure, and the migratory patterns of creatures across vast distances. It’s a sensory input on a scale unimaginable to shorter-lived beings.

To the Leviathan, these “sleeps” are periods of profound learning and growth. They are not just physical beings; they are living libraries of the ocean’s history. Within their slumbering minds reside echoes of ancient ecosystems, forgotten migrations.

Leviathana perceives its sleep as a vital part of its existence. It’s a time of introspection, allowing it to process the vast amount of sensory information it gathers throughout its long life. They might even communicate with each other during these deep sleeps, sharing knowledge and experiences across vast distances through some form of underwater telepathy. Their sleep is not just necessary for survival; they are essential for maintaining their unique role in the ocean’s ecosystem. Even the oldest and most powerful Leviathan are granted access to the elemental realm, a place most primordial beings aren’t even allowed to step into.

Merging with the leviathan meant that Aska had taken on its burdens, responsibilities he was forced to manage even in his sleep. This was why, despite his extensive knowledge as a former demon consciousness, he could barely oversee the development of his kingdom, leaving it to fend for itself.

Becoming entangled with the gods’ counterpart disrupted his natural sleep cycle, gradually wearing him down. The interference put him in a state of constant irritation, something utterly foreign to a leviathan. In a desperate attempt to escape the whispers invading his mind, he did the unthinkable—he fled from the sea. No leviathan had ever done such a thing before.

Yet, fate was cruel. He was found again, hunted down, and forced to retreat back into the very ocean he had tried to escape.

Aska, once a demon who prided himself on his power and independence, now found his pride in tatters. He had never imagined a predicament like this—trapped, tormented, and restless.

“HE NEEDED TO SLEEP”This simple statement speaks volumes. Aska’s desperation has driven him to make a deal with the very entity that’s tormenting him. He’s sacrificing his autonomy, his freedom, and potentially his long-term plans for the immediate relief of sleep. This decision highlights the severity of his situation and the toll the disrupted sleep has taken on his mental and physical state.

It’s a Faustian bargain, and the long-term consequences are likely to be dire.

The weight of months of stillness finally lifted from Aska’s massive form. Though his physical self remained dormant, a thrill, a spark of anticipation, coursed through his very cells. Peace, true peace, was within reach, a concept he hadn’t known in what felt like an eternity. He had been in a state of quiet readiness, awaiting the summons from the god’s counterpart, a being of the mirrored world.

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