Beyond the Apocalypse
Chapter 467: Butchering the Leviathans

Chapter 467: Butchering the Leviathans

"ARRGGGHH!" Grand Marshal Anglius roared, raising his halberd high as the colossal power of his giant frame flared. He butchered every Leviathan in sight, guiding the rest of the Golden Wave Legion to follow suit. Torn shells and shredded limbs piled around him, testimony to his unrelenting fury.

"Now, use all you have left! Kill these monsters!" King Viserin’s commanding voice echoed across the battlefield. He rallied his elite Turkin riders into a final charge, their monstrous mounts trampling the drones underfoot while their blades sundered anything too stubborn to be crushed. Other black-armored soldiers and the remaining Turkin riders did not remain idle; under the guidance of their commanders, they spread across the battlefield, slaughtering every Leviathan they could find.

The Leviathans’ eyes glowed with alarm as the hive mind processed the battle’s collapse. Over three million Leviathans still remained on the field, but it was clear that continuing the fight with suicidal frenzy would yield meager returns. The casualties they could inflict on the human forces would be negligible compared to what they would lose in the process. Thus, the hive mind commanded a retreat. In an instant, the Leviathans began to scatter in all directions, sprinting back toward the heart of the Wendy Continent. Many would perish in the retreat, but enough would survive to bolster the army for the hive mind’s next counteroffensive.

"Faster! Don’t let them escape!" Grand Marshal Anglius shouted, rallying the troops to strike harder. He knew the war was far from over. Every Leviathan allowed to flee would only return as a future threat. Today’s victory could easily become tomorrow’s defeat if they showed mercy. Anglius also recognized how thin their luck had been on this battlefield; without the miraculous arrival of the God, the humans might have been wiped out. That stroke of fortune would not last forever, so he was determined to press every advantage they had.

"Don’t worry. Just keep striking in a coordinated state," Vlad’s voice echoed across the battlefield, stopping the Golden Wave Legion and others before they could pursue relentlessly. Confusion flickered across countless soldier’s faces. The Leviathans were fleeing—why not chase them down with everything they had? Then, it became clear when they beheld a dark wave rolling in from the distance.

That wave extended for several kilometers, forming a perfect wall between the retreating Leviathans and the Wendy Country’s heart. There was no mistaking who made up this wall: the Shadowstrike Legion and the hundreds of thousands of soldiers who had accompanied Vlad into Jerar Country. When Grand Marshal Anglius and the other generals realized these troops had arrived to cut off the Leviathans’ escape route, they adapted immediately.

"Steady! Firm! Follow the Xaos King!" Grand Marshal Anglius ordered. The Golden Wave Legion reformed their front, advancing like a golden scythe through the Leviathans, not a single gap in their ranks. Every soldier’s eyes blazed with willpower and might, bolstered by the knowledge that their king’s forces had surrounded the fleeing creatures.

For the Leviathans, the situation was now far bleaker than before. They faced a massive army at their backs, relentlessly pushing forward, while in front of them loomed another colossal host brimming with energy and vitality, blocking any hope of escape. The hive mind was thrown into turmoil, desperately seeking some path to preserve what was left. Before it could orchestrate any viable defensive or offensive formation, two gargantuan shapes exploded from the flanks.

From the right came the sky wolf tearing a bloody path through the swarm. His claws and fangs rent the Leviathans as if they were paper, leaving a trail of ruined bodies in his wake. From the left slithered the World Snake, Jormungandr’s colossal, flaming serpent, which crashed into the densest portion of the swarm. An instant later, it erupted in a sea of fire and lightning, killing over a hundred thousand monsters in one massive detonation.

Out of that fiery explosion emerged a small yellow cat with white stripes. Pale and visibly exhausted, Jormungandr staggered but still mustered enough energy to dash through the Leviathans. Fire and lightning cloaked his paws, enabling him to butcher aerial units and insect-humanoid warriors in vicious, efficient strokes.

These devastating flanking assaults tore apart what remained of the Leviathans’ cohesion. Unable to coordinate or mount a meaningful resistance, the swarm found itself overwhelmed from every direction. The human forces, pressing from both front and rear, surged inward like a tightening noose. Razor-sharp swords and lances scythed through chitinous shells, spells, and arrows rained from above, and the clangor of battle reverberated for miles.

Vlad darted forward into the thick of the Leviathans’ ranks, cloaked in lightning and flame. Every monster in his path fell to ruin: his fists crushed exoskeletons, arcs of lightning ricocheted through dozens of drones, and beams of heat from his eyes sliced entire formations in half. Grand Marshal Anglius, his mighty halberd raised, hurled Leviathan corpses into the air with every swing—broken and mangled. King Viserin marshaled his demonic soul mount to stomp and devour the fleeing creatures, all while he slashed dozens more to ribbons with each swift stroke of his blade.

The Royal Guards exploded with power, living up to their name, annihilating everything in sight just as the nineteen Bloodline Soldiers unleashed their full might. Their raw energy illuminated the battlefield, carving reapers’ paths through the Leviathans. Meanwhile, the Lords of Horror, clad in armor that glowed with fierce golden light, entered Sobremarcha. Their enormous swords struck again and again, each blow cleaving another Leviathan in two. Black blood flooded the ground beneath their feet, immediately ignited by the raging fires around them.

Ensnared between multiple unstoppable forces, the Leviathans stood no chance. Even their final acts of desperation—lunging en masse, trying to tear through the lines—accomplished nothing but a few scattered wounds on the humans. The swarm broke down into disorganized clusters, many of which tried to escape by scaling cliffs or diving into ravines. But Ouroboros and Jormungandr patrolled the sky and perimeter, picking them off or scattering them back into the trap. Vlad’s voice continued to ring out, commanding the final push.

"Finish them!" he roared, lightning crackling around his fists as he dispatched a swarm of drones.