Beyond the Apocalypse
Chapter 445: Greatest mobilization of human forces the world had ever seen

Chapter 445: Greatest mobilization of human forces the world had ever seen

The Molted Range had been quiet for the last year, with hardly any activity disturbing its stony silence. Yet today, it began to tremble as a rhythmic march affected its ancient slopes. The source of this disturbance was not the familiar clack of Leviathan pincers scuttling over the rock but the thunderous impact of countless human boots.

Hundreds of thousands of humans were marching through the narrow passes, each footfall echoing like distant drumbeats. It was as though the entire mountain range bore witness to a new era—no longer silent, no longer waiting, but now a pathway for the greatest mobilization of human forces the world had ever seen.

All these marching humans were Warriors capable of using Force. Their training had honed them into formidable combatants. Around their bodies was armor that seemed to be a perfect blend of metal and bone, covering every inch of their skin and leaving not a single vulnerable spot exposed. Even if they were swarmed and pinned down by countless drones, they would remain safe inside these protective shells as it took Champion-tier power to break them. Determination and focus shone in the eyes of these men and women as they marched, step after disciplined step, toward what could only be described as the most important battle in the entire world.

They had been training for several months, developing extraordinary martial skills and forging iron wills. In that time, they had also savored delicious Monster’s meat and consumed all manner of drugs designed to enhance their cultivation and energy reserves. To further increase their potency, they had sealed demonic souls inside their hearts, granting them the powers and resilience of Demon Soul Master. Now, all that preparation would be put to the ultimate test. They would show the fruits of their labor and training as they faced the Leviathans.

Despite their readiness and might, this massive group took nearly four hours to leave the Molted Range due to its narrow passages. Yet, the moment they emerged into the open fields beyond, a transformation took place. All of them adopted a sprinting posture. The next second, their Force flared as they began to run forward, accelerating to a speed that would leave even the greatest athletes of the old world in utter awe. Despite moving at such impressive velocity, they remained in perfect formation, a tribute to their rigorous training. They were not a ragtag band of warriors but a unified army, each individual playing a role in a grand, harmonious whole.

However, things were far from over. The Molted Range trembled again as another wave of hundreds of thousands of soldiers marched through its passages. This new contingent differed from the first. Every one of them rode atop demonic soul beasts, creatures bound and controlled through their cultivation and training. Their appearance was rugged, each soldier seeming to carry the aura of a seasoned hunter. Yet the discipline and military order they displayed were in no way inferior to the first group.

These were the forces of the Turkin Kingdom, and just like the people of the Xaos Kingdom, they had been trained under Overlord’s guidance. Although entrusting one’s military training and organization to an external advisor might sound ridiculous, King Viserin knew how effective the A.I. Chip Clone’s methods were and understood the importance of the upcoming clash. The results of this cooperation were extraordinary. Whereas the Xaos Kingdom’s warriors wore metallic bone armor, the Turkin Riders wore armor that seemed to blend leather and chitinous shields. This armor offered less raw defense but granted them much higher mobility and speed—fundamental qualities for a cavalry force that would harass, flank, and outmaneuver their enemies.

The moment the Turkin Riders left the Molted Range, they focused on the gems embedded in their gloves. The instant these gems glowed, the entire cavalry force burst forward with incredible momentum. The ground trembled beneath their mounts as they accelerated, catching up to the Xaos Force within seconds. Once there, they demonstrated superb riding skills by splitting into hundreds of small files, weaving gracefully around the Xaos troops before regrouping ahead and continuing to charge forward. It was a display of perfect coordination, ensuring that both armies—infantry and cavalry—could march onward together, each reinforcing the other’s strengths.

Just as it seemed that the Molted Range would return to quiet normalcy, the earth shook once more. What appeared next was massive war machines—tanks more than eight meters tall and weighing several tons, yet able to move at shocking speed. Their tracks seemed to morph in response to the terrain, making it seem as though no place was inaccessible to them. Compared to the old world’s tanks, these monstrous constructs were on an entirely different level. To call these behemoths mere "tanks" was almost insulting.

On top of these colossal battlefield titans stood hundreds of people covered in tattoos that thrummed with primal power. The most imposing of them was a massive old man with gray hair who seemed to carry the fury of a snowstorm within him. The fierceness and totems etched on their bodies made it clear that these were Vikings.

Gray Hawk and the rest of the Viking forces had been stationed in the north of the Asani Continent, but now they were finally redeployed, as the Overlord considered that hundreds of High Champions would be of great use in future battles at the heart of the Moonson Continent. With their arrival, the alliance of human forces was complete: Xaos warriors, Turkin riders, and Viking champions aboard unstoppable war machines, all united under Overlord’s guidance.

High in the sky, Vlad observed this massive mobilization of troops. He could barely contain the excitement coursing through his body. This was the full might that Overlord had been able to assemble—hundreds of thousands of elite soldiers, cavalry, and war engines gathered together to determine the fate of the entire world. If they managed to reach the heart of the Monsoon Continent and destroy the obelisks of the Leviathan Race, they would secure victory. If not, their world would fall beneath the monstrous jaws of their alien foes.

"We will win!" Vlad declared, his voice filled with determination and conviction.