Beyond the Apocalypse
Chapter 270: Depravita vs God (IV)

Chapter 270: Depravita vs God (IV)

Terror and fear washed over Goddess Lucia’s face as he saw the golden blood pouring from his wounds. Despite all his bravado and arrogance, at his core, he was a coward devoid of courage or honor. The first thought that crossed his mind was to flee, to escape the terrifying prospect of death.

However, even in his panic, Goddess Lucia was shrewd enough to realize that abandoning the soldiers of the Azarin Empire would have catastrophic consequences for his power. A god without faith was no different from a merchant without wealth—he would wither away, losing all his strength and influence.

"I am the light that will save this world! You are nothing but a twisted monkey who doesn’t know his place!" Desperation twisted his features as he shouted in rage. His voice was a mix of fury and fear as he launched a frenzied assault on Vlad, swinging wildly with his golden fists.

"Hmph, pathetic," Vlad sneered, calculatingly meeting the onslaught. Goddess Lucia was undeniably fast and strong, but his lack of martial skill was glaring. His attacks were clumsy, driven by fear rather than technique, and Vlad could easily read his movements, finding openings in his frantic strikes.

The battle in the sky was a spectacle of overwhelming power, each clash between the two sending shockwaves through the capital. Explosions of lightning and fire lit up the heavens, the force of their battle making the entire city tremble.

Below, the soldiers of both armies looked up, awe and shock in their eyes. Those of the Azarin Empire couldn’t help but feel confused and shaken as they witnessed their goddess’s strange and frankly embarrassing battle style, while the soldiers of the Xaos Kingdom wore broad smiles full of thrill and battle fervor.

Just like in the sky, the fight intensified on the ground. The warriors of the Xaos Kingdom, inspired by their leader’s display of strength, fought with overwhelming vigor and determination.

"Fight for our King!" Grand Marshal Anglius led the charge with overwhelming might, catalyzing the willpower and determination in the hearts of his soldiers. Together, they pierced through the formations of the Azarin Empire, driving deep into the heart of the capital.

A grand smile spread across Grand Marshal Anglius’s face as he finally embarked on the core mission of the Golden Wave. With decisive authority, he issued orders to the battalion commanders and squad leaders, directing them to move swiftly through the capital, heading toward the most populated areas filled with civilians.

The goal of the Golden Wave was to ensure stability and order in the Azarin Empire’s capital. Casualties during the war were not always the result of battles between armies but often the chaos that erupted among the civilian population during and after the conflict. This was especially true for a theocracy.

Once their goddess was killed, the people might descend into madness, and the soldiers of the Xaos Kingdom needed to be ready to establish order. Vlad understood all that, and he did not want to win only to have to gather hundreds of thousands of corpses of civilians, which was why the Golden Wave was forged.

As the Golden Wave sprang into action, Ouroboros, Mirena, Frank, and Roman were also closing in on their mission’s success.

Pope Jerom, the formidable leader of the Church of Glory who had nearly defeated the forces of the Xaos Kingdom at the Strong Hammer Military Base, was now bleeding heavily, his face full of fear.

"Leave me!" Jerom shouted, using all his remaining power to resist the relentless assault of the Depravita of Greed and the Royal Guards. His body was battered and broken, his divine energy nearly depleted, and his spirit on the verge of collapse.

"Holy Shield!" Jerom summoned a shield of holy light to protect himself from a barrage of spells, but he left an opening while resisting the attacks from the Royal Guards.

The Depravita of Greed lunged forward with ferocious speed. His fist, glowing with dark energy, slammed into Jerom’s stomach, the force of the blow shattering the golden energy that protected the man and sending the Pope crashing into an empty building with a thunderous impact.

Ouroboros flashed a cold, bloodthirsty smile as he gazed at the broken building where Pope Jerom had been sent crashing. He felt how his attack shattered the man’s rib cage, a strike that should have been enough to paralyze even a High Champion. Yet, despite the apparent victory, Ouroboros remained cautious, using his A.I. Chip to monitor the Pope’s condition inside the debris.

His eyes narrowed as the data from the A.I. Chip flashed across his mind. Pope Jerom was indeed in a dire state, vomiting mouthfuls of blood and struggling to breathe, but there was something else—an unsettling glint of madness in the old man’s eyes. A massive amount of energy was gathering in Jerom’s staff, ready to explode.

Ouroboros’ eyes narrowed as he saw the state of the Pope, driven to the brink of death, preparing a desperate, suicidal attack, intent on taking as many down with him as possible.

This complicates things, Ouroboros thought, his mind racing. The situation became even trickier when, out of nowhere, Overlord’s voice echoed through his A.I. Chip, the tone calm yet carrying the weight of command.

"Ouroboros," the A.I. Clone communicated directly to him, "if possible, capture Pope Jerom alive. He could be of significant use for experiments that may benefit the growth of the Xaos Kingdom."

Ouroboros’ eyes narrowed further as he processed the request. As the Depravita of Greed, his authority was second only to Vlad’s, and he wasn’t bound to obey orders from anyone else. But he understood the immense importance of Overlord’s experiments to the Kingdom’s growth and success.

Overlord’s mind worked on levels he couldn’t fully comprehend, and his plans often led to breakthroughs that elevated the Kingdom’s power. Under the guidance of the A.I. Chip Clone, the Xaos Kingdom had advanced immensely in a very short amount of time, so if he needed something, Ouroboros would do all in his power to help him.

With a slight nod, Ouroboros acknowledged the directive. He would comply, but it would require a careful balance. Pope Jerom was no ordinary opponent, and capturing him alive, especially when the man was on the brink of a suicidal outburst, would be no simple feat.

Ouroboros glanced at the Royal Guards, his eyes sharp as he conveyed the message through their communication gems. "Overlord has asked us to capture him alive," his voice was calm yet firm. "Prepare for non-lethal containment. We need to neutralize his staff and restrain him without triggering that energy burst."

A sharp light appeared in the Royal Guards’ eyes, and they couldn’t help but frown as they heard the command. All of them wanted to blast Jerom to pieces to attain their revenge, but one of the core aspects of their training was discipline, so they nodded in understanding. Mirena and the others knew that there was no way Jerom would be allowed to live, and after Overlord was done with him, the old man would die, so they had no problem obeying the command.

Just like on the capital’s streets, the battle raging within the Imperial Castle of the Azarin Empire was a spectacle of raw power and unmatched ferocity. The intensity of the conflict far exceeded even the fierce clash between Ouroboros and the Pope of the Church of Glory. Unlike Jerom, who faced multiple enemies alone, the battle in the castle was an even contest.

The four Bloodline Soldiers were locked in combat with the six Life Statues. These statues, though inanimate by nature, moved with a deadly precision that belied their stone forms. Each blow from their massive limbs could crush steel, and their relentless assault left the Bloodline Soldiers with no choice but to expend every ounce of their strength to keep them at bay.

Kimil, Orland, Michael, and Alexy fought with a unity that only life-and-death battles could forge. Their Runic Sets and Demon Souls were pushed to their limits, enhancing their abilities to withstand the statues’ relentless attacks. The air around them crackled with energy as they parried, countered, and dodged, every movement calculated to maximize their survival while dealing as much damage as possible.

This left Freya to face Emperor Dimitry alone. The viking princess found herself pitted against the might of the Azarin Empire’s ruler. Dimitry showed martial skills that were truly amazing. He moved with great fluidity, each strike precise, each movement efficient.

Making things worse for Freya, Dimitry’s energy pool seemed endless. Despite the bursts of power that accompanied every attack, he showed no signs of slowing down, his reserves seemingly inexhaustible.

Despite the enemy’s power and stamina, Freya was undaunted. Her cold, calculating eyes locked onto Dimitry, taking in every detail of his movements and searching for the slightest opening. Her mind was a steel trap, analyzing, adapting, and reacting with a speed that matched her opponent’s. Every time Dimitry struck, she was there to meet him, her mace and shield deflecting or absorbing the blows, her own attacks relentless and precise.