Chapter 478: 478

And yet, as the snow settled, the Beast King remained unmoved. A shallow mark had been left on its fur, but nothing more.

It smiled.

“Not bad.”

With blinding speed, the creature’s massive hand shot forward, aiming to swat Nova away like an insect.

Leiko was already moving.

His sword gleamed with blackened energy as he intercepted the beast’s attack, the collision of their forces sending cracks through the frozen earth. The sheer force behind the Beast King’s blow sent Leiko skidding back, his boots digging into the ice as he struggled to absorb the impact.

Lunara landed beside him, her wings folding behind her. “We’re going to need more than brute force.”

Leiko wiped the blood from his lip, “There is nothing else we can hope to do”

The Beast King rolled his massive shoulders, his amused smirk never faltering. “Enough games, then,” he murmured.

Then, with a single motion, he breathed in.

The air itself seemed to vanish.

A terrible force pulled at the very fabric of reality, the wind shrieking as it was drawn toward the Beast King’s gaping maw. Snow, shattered ice, even the lingering energy from their attacks—all of it was sucked inward, disappearing into the darkness of his throat.

Leiko’s heart clenched. This wasn’t mere wind. It was something deeper, something unnatural.

Lunara’s instincts screamed at her. Move. Now.

The Beast King exhaled.

A tidal wave of pure cold erupted forth.

Not just cold—absence.

The world turned white. A monstrous blizzard howled through the tundra, swallowing everything in its path. The very ice beneath their feet cracked and vanished as the force of the breath erased it from existence.

Leiko barely had time to react. He was grabbed by Lunara on his wrist as she shot into the sky. Nova, trusting his instincts, followed in an instant.

They ran.

There was no other option.

Leiko’s voice was sharp. “That wasn’t normal ice breath—!”

“I know!” Lunara snapped. “It’s like it erased everything it touched!”

Below them, the tundra was utterly changed. An entire stretch of the icy expanse had simply… disappeared. The land itself was gone, leaving behind a void of frozen mist and silence.

The Beast King’s laughter rumbled through the air. “So you can run!”

The sky cracked. Before they could even process what had happened, the Beast King was there.

He had jumped.

From the ground to the heavens in an instant, his massive form blocking out the sky. A hand, larger than a boulder, swung toward them.

“Scatter!” Leiko roared.

They split apart, barely avoiding the crushing blow. The impact of the Beast King’s strike sent shockwaves rippling through the clouds, distorting the very air around them.

Lunara gritted her teeth. We can’t keep running forever. The Beast King was preparing to move again—when the air shifted.

From both sides of the battlefield, the presence of overwhelming power pressed down.

All the guards in hiding could no longer stay hidden as they made an apperance. The beast king immediately forgot the two ants as it looked at the figures surrounding it.

The Beast King halted, its gaze flickering between them. For the first time, the amusement faded from its eyes.

“So,” it murmured. “You finally decided to join.”

No words were exchanged between Luanara and Leiko. They both turned and fled, their movements blurring as they surged through the frozen landscape at full speed, never once looking back. Their hearts pounded in sync with the unnatural stillness that gripped the land behind them. The weight of what was about to unfold pressed against their backs like an unseen force, urging them to retreat faster.

A near-dozen fifth-stage powerhouses were about to collide. That was no mere battle—it was a cataclysm waiting to be unleashed. Neither of them wished to be caught in the aftermath. The next time they returned to this place, they knew it would not be the same. The land itself would bear the scars of what was to come, twisted beyond recognition by the sheer force of the impending clash.

Above, the Beast King now hovered in midair, his massive form suspended like a dark omen against the grey sky. His presence alone was overwhelming—a vast, living mountain of flesh and power, exuding a raw, primal authority that made the towering figures of the fifth-stage experts surrounding him seem insignificant in comparison. And yet, despite their smaller frames, the aura that radiated from each of these warriors distorted the very air around them, pressing back against the Beast King’s suffocating dominance.

The sky bore silent witness to this gathering of power. The ever-falling snow, which had blanketed this land for centuries without pause, now recoiled from the battlefield, avoiding a wide stretch of sky as though nature itself feared what was to come. In the void left behind, something unnatural appeared—a rift, a scar splitting the firmament, revealing glimpses of another world. Ethereal landscapes flickered within it, fractured visions of domains woven together by the combined presence of so many fifth-stage entities.

This was no mere mirage. It was a phenomenon known to those who understood the laws of power—a temporary overlap between reality and the domains of those present. Each warrior’s inner world, the very foundation of their might, bled into existence, clashing and merging in a chaotic dance. This was proof that their combat prowess had reached its peak, that the battle about to take place would not be confined to the physical realm alone.

Still, no one spoke. The silence stretched taut, thick with unspoken anticipation. The rift continued to widen, the air itself humming with the promise of devastation.

Then—something changed.

A presence.

It was foreign yet undeniable, a ripple in the very fabric of the frozen battlefield.

The Beast King and his guards all turned their gaze toward a single point in space.

This place—this very land—had once been erased by the Beast King Mammoth’s might, reduced to nothingness in a show of dominance. Yet now, within that void, something stirred.

A golden portal split open, its radiance stark against the desolate, frozen wasteland.

And from within, a figure emerged.

Clad in a suit of gleaming gold, he stepped onto the ruined earth with the unhurried grace of a figure who feared nothing. His very presence seemed to shift the air around him, a quiet, measured power that did not need to announce itself with wild displays.

The battlefield, once thick with the oppressive energy of gathered fifth-stage titans, now held something else entirely.

Yuki and Wulv, who had been closely observing the unfolding scene, both frowned in unison as the same thought crossed their minds.

“An Apeling.”

Yet, almost immediately, they dismissed the idea. Something was off.

Wulv, who was deeply familiar with the apelings, knew they would never appear without informing him first. This figure, despite its resemblance, carried an unsettling presence—one that set his instincts on edge. Yuki, more attuned to the nuances of aura, felt a prickling recognition, her sharp gaze narrowing.

“A demonic aura.”

Realization struck her. This was no mere Apeling. This was the Golden Gorilla Beast King, a subordinate of Krogan. Yuki of course knew of Krogan, her father made sure to keep an eye on all his counterparts, so she also knew a figure close to Krogan.

The golden gorilla himself was a powerful envoy sent on behalf of his leader—one who had come with the sole purpose of recruiting a fellow Beast King, one whom he believed would be a worthy addition to Krogan and his plans.

But now, instead of an invitation, the Golden Gorilla found himself walking into a battlefield.

Zirikon’s first impression of the scene was the unnatural wound upon the northern continent—a vast erased stretch of land, devoid of the ever-present ice and snow. A place that should not exist here. But his curiosity was soon overshadowed by something far more pressing.

A sudden, crushing weight bore down on him.

Multiple auras locked onto him.

Zirikon’s golden eyes flicked upward, instinctively seeking out the one he had come for—the Mammoth Beast King. But instead of finding a regal figure waiting to be courted into an alliance, he found a cornered titan. The Beast King was surrounded, hemmed in by figures of immense importance. Some he recognized. Others carried an air of dominance that made his muscles coil in tension.

And then—there were the werewolves.

Zirikon’s expression darkened. The presence of these werewolves made it clear: this was not just a mere confrontation between beasts. This was something far greater.

The golden-clad figure adjusted his tie with an air of mild annoyance, smoothing out an invisible crease. His movements were unhurried, deliberate. From the inner pocket of his tailored suit, he pulled out a thick cigar, inspecting it with a brief glance before snapping his fingers together.

A strange sound echoed—a sharp, metallic clash, like two iron bars striking against each other. Sparks flew, igniting the tip of the cigar with an unnatural brilliance.

Bringing it to his lips, he inhaled deeply. The embers flared, casting fleeting shadows across his sharp features.

Then, as he exhaled a slow stream of smoke, a gentleman’s smile curved his lips.

His deep, velvety voice cut through the thick tension with a casual ease, laced with an undeniable undertone of amusement.

“Well, this is awkward, wouldn’t you say, my fellow men?”

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