Beyond the Apocalypse
Chapter 412: The light at the end of the tunnel

Chapter 412: The light at the end of the tunnel

Freya’s eyes were sharp as explosions echoed above her head, each thunderous boom a testament to the titanic battle unfolding in the skies. The clash between Vlad and the Divine Leviathan painted the heavens with flashes of red and gold, their energies intertwining like battling serpents of lightning.

The sheer magnitude of their fight sent shockwaves rippling through the air, but instead of instilling fear, it only fueled Freya’s determination. The young Viking princess pushed herself harder and harder, every fiber of her being committed to defeating the Special Unit Leviathan.

She dashed forward with all her strength; muscles coiled like steel springs. Her mace glowed with an intense fusion of Force and totemic energy. With a fierce cry, she swung her weapon, aiming for the Leviathan’s exposed right ribs—a vulnerability left by its missing arm. The mace connected with a resounding crack, the impact sending a shockwave through the creature’s massive frame.

"Aaargh!" The Special Unit Leviathan growled, the blow causing its internal organs to tremble. Its exoskeleton, usually impervious, showed signs of fracturing where Freya had struck. Hatred and killing intent blazed in its myriad eyes as it gazed down at the defiant warrior. Without wasting a moment, it lashed out with its left whip-like appendage, the speed of the attack slicing through the air with a high-pitched whistle.

Freya sensed the impending strike and raised her shield just in time. The whip collided with her shield, the force behind it nearly numbing her arm. Sparks flew upon impact, but she held her ground. Using the momentum, she spun around and countered with her mace, this time aiming directly for the creature’s grotesque head.

Despite its wounds, the Leviathan was still a formidable opponent. Sensing the danger, it pulled back at the last second, the mace narrowly missing its target. The creature retreated a few steps, putting distance between itself and the relentless warrior.

Freya’s eyes remained cold and focused. She refused to give the Leviathan even a moment’s respite. "You won’t escape me," she muttered under her breath, her voice steady and filled with resolve. She immediately gave chase.

Nearby, Ned and the other Lords of Horror stood ready. They longed to assist their princess, but the situation made it impossible. The hive mind had directed hundreds of thousands of drones to swarm the area. While this reduced the pressure on the frontline forces of the Golden Wave Legion, Shadowstrike Legion, and Turkin riders, it forced the juggernauts to focus on maintaining a perimeter around Freya, ensuring she wouldn’t be overwhelmed by the relentless horde.

"Hold the line!" Ned bellowed, his massive sword cleaved through drones with each swing, but for every enemy he felled, more seemed to take their place.

Freya was acutely aware that she could rely only on herself to take down the Special Unit Leviathan. The knowledge didn’t deter her; if anything, it ignited a fierce fire within her. She dashed forward, her muscles burning but unwavering. As she closed the distance, a determined light gleamed in her eyes. She raised her mace high, preparing for a decisive strike.

The Special Unit Leviathan watched her intently, its gaze as cold as ice. It prepared to block her attack, bracing itself. But Freya had a different plan. Instead of aiming for the creature, she swung her mace downward with all her might, smashing it into the ground before her.

"CRACK!"

The earth shattered under the force, fissures spreading out like spiderwebs. The ground beneath the Leviathan crumbled, causing it to lose its footing. A flash of dread appeared in its eyes as it stumbled, its massive body trembling. Seizing the opportunity, Freya lunged forward, her mace now aimed directly at its chest.

"Take this!" she shouted, her voice carrying over the sounds of battle.

The mace struck with such overwhelming power that it sent the Leviathan rolling across the ground. The impact echoed like thunder and dust and debris were thrown into the air.

Freya didn’t relent. Her eyes’ coldness and killing intent intensified as she pursued the fallen enemy. Her blood was burning, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She could feel it—she was getting closer and closer to ending this monstrous foe.

Not far from the Viking princess, a fierce battle unfolded between a fiendish werewolf and a massive Leviathan nearly ten times his size. Despite the disparity, Ouroboros held the upper hand. His fiendish werewolf form moved with a fluidity and speed that belied his size.

The Behemoth swung one of its colossal fists at him, the air whistling from the sheer force. Ouroboros dodged deftly, his movements a blur. Dark energy cloaked his claws as he retaliated, slashing at one of the Behemoth’s legs. His claws sliced through the thick exoskeleton, leaving a massive cut that reached down to the bone.

"AHHHHH!" A scream of agony erupted from the Behemoth. The wound severely hampered its mobility, but it refused to be subdued. With a surge of rage, it swung its other arm in a wide arc, attempting to crush the nimble werewolf.

The attack was swift, coming immediately after Ouroboros’s slash. He realized he couldn’t dodge in time. Instead of panicking, he planted his feet firmly, adopting a battle stance. His muscles tensed, and his entire body burst with power and energy. As the massive fist descended upon him, he met it head-on, thrusting both of his fists forward.

"THOOM!"

The clash resulted in a kinetic blast that echoed across the battlefield. Dark energy spread out from the point of impact, rippling like waves. Ouroboros felt his entire body trembling under the immense strength of the Behemoth’s arm. The ground beneath his feet cracked, but his resolve did not waver. With a primal roar, he pushed back, his muscles straining as he forced the Behemoth’s fist away.

Shock registered in the Behemoth’s eyes. The idea that such a small opponent could match its raw power was unfathomable. Its astonishment quickly turned to agony as Ouroboros, not missing a beat, twisted and delivered a swift kick to its side. His leg moved like a whip, and his claws extended, leaving a deep gash in the Leviathan’s belly. The wound was so severe that fountains of dark blood began to pour out.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!" The Behemoth’s scream intensified, echoing across the battlefield. The injury was catastrophic, even for a creature of its overwhelming vitality. It staggered, its movements becoming sluggish.

Ouroboros smiled coldly, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. "Not so tough now, are you?" he taunted. But he remained vigilant. The Behemoth, in its desperation, attempted to crush him by collapsing its massive body forward. Sensing the danger, Ouroboros dashed away with lightning speed, narrowly avoiding being squashed.

He observed the creature, noting its labored breaths and the pool of blood forming beneath it. Hunger and killing intent overflowed from his gaze. He glanced around briefly, confirming that the Lords of Horror were successfully maintaining the perimeter. With the Behemoth weakened and his allies holding the line, Ouroboros prepared to deliver the final blow.

Further up on Kuro Mountain, the battle raged on. The Xaos forces and the Turkin riders were engaged in what could only be described as a slaughter. Leviathan drones fell by the tens of thousands every minute. The ground was littered with their broken bodies, the air thick with the stench of battle.

Grand Marshal Anglius and Major General Theodoro led their troops with unyielding resolve. Their muscles burned, and their energy reserves were depleting at an alarming rate, but they showed no signs of slowing. Each swing of their weapons felled enemies, and their commands kept the soldiers organized and focused.

"Stay together! Protect your comrades!" Anglius shouted, his golden armor smeared with ichor.

"Press forward! Victory is within our grasp!" Theodoro urged, his twin blades flashing as he cut down an aerial unit that swooped too close.

The soldiers were inspired by their leaders and by the sight of the battle in the skies above. The explosions from Vlad’s confrontation with the Divine Leviathan lit up the heavens, casting an otherworldly glow over the battlefield. Each thunderous boom invigorated them, reminding them that their God-King fought alongside them, even if from afar.

The radiant light in their eyes was unmistakable. They saw the end of the clash approaching—the sight of victory, the light at the end of the tunnel. Despite their exhaustion, they pushed forward, fueled by hope and determination.

Unbeknownst to them, Vlad drew strength from their perseverance as well. High above, the Depravita of Wrath exchanged blows with the Divine Leviathan. The two were locked in a deadly clash, each attack more ferocious than the last.

Vlad noticed how the men and women below fought with all they had, ignoring wounds and exhaustion. Their unwavering spirit ignited a fire within him. "I can not be left behind. I must push forward and defeat this thing!" he thought. His strikes became faster, lightning and fire bursting with more power. He channeled every ounce of his might, determined to vanquish the Divine Leviathan.