Beyond the Apocalypse
Chapter 500: Heroes

Chapter 500: Heroes

Vlad exchanged a solemn glance with Freya, and in near unison, they slipped into their formal attire. They left the comfort of the Xaos Tower, soared briefly above the city’s rings, then glided down to the ground a few meters beyond the outer gates. Their expressions were composed and dignified, ready for the somber duty that awaited them.

The gates of Xaos City’s outer ring creaked open soon after, and soldiers began to stream out. Behind them came hundreds, then thousands, and eventually millions of civilians, all of whom arranged themselves on either side of the main road, leaving a broad, clear path in the center.

Within the span of an hour, at least a million citizens had assembled in neat, respectful formations outside the city walls. Their faces reflected a heavy mixture of sorrow, pride, and anticipation as they turned to observe the distant procession. The war with the Leviathans might have ended, but the grim cost of victory was just now making its return.

Not long after, Grand Marshal Anglius and the rest of the human army arrived at the foot of the mountain upon which the city was built. Yet, instead of entering through the open gates, they formed up in strict ranks, parted themselves into two columns, and stood at attention. Their posture allowed a corridor to extend between them—a silent, honorable avenue for the soldier-borne coffins. Jormungandr, Ouroboros, Overlord, and other high-ranking figures joined the ranks as well, all united in a solemn vigil. None spoke; none dared break the gravity of the moment.

Grand Marshal Anglius, his colossal golden frame distinctive, placed his right fist over his heart. The soldiers around him, men and women who had fought side by side with the fallen, mirrored his gesture. Together, they watched as lines of their comrades—carefully carrying coffins—began their slow march toward Vlad and Freya, who stood in front. The finality of it cut deep into everyone’s hearts.

Vlad and Freya clasped their hands together and bowed their heads the instant the first coffin reached them. Gazing around, the populace of Xaos City, arrayed at a distance, witnessed an extraordinary sight. Despite being hailed as a "God-King," Vlad bowed as any mortal would, offering his utmost respect. Freya matched his humility, forming an image of quiet reverence. If there was any deed that warranted the bow of a so-called deity, it was the ultimate sacrifice of these men and women who had laid down their lives to protect the world.

Step by step, the soldiers bearing the coffins moved forward, performing an excruciatingly slow and meticulous march. No one dared hurry them; it was vital they carry out this final tribute with total care. Hour after hour passed, the last rays of the sun stretching long shadows across the open ground. Neither children nor adults made a sound. The city’s usual bustle had surrendered to reverent silence.

In that hush, one could sense a profound unity among the people. Young children who normally might have grown restless remained quiet, understanding in some small but significant way that this occasion was set apart from daily life. Their bright eyes widened with awe and respect. The words that kept running through their minds were simple yet meaningful.

"Heroes."

Yes, these coffins belonged to heroes. Even as sadness weighed heavy in the air, it mingled with an uplifting sense of pride. Their deaths had secured Terra’s salvation, ensuring that families could sleep without fear of monstrous Leviathan swarms.

The funeral procession did not end when the coffins finally entered Xaos City. Instead, it advanced steadily through the rings all the way to a sacred graveyard reserved for the champions of the Xaos Kingdom. Vlad and Freya moved alongside. Behind them trailed Grand Marshal Anglius, Jormungandr, Ouroboros, Overlord, Major General Theodoro, and other officers, forming a silent entourage. Crowding in their wake were the millions who resided in Xaos City, each person indebted to the departed in some way. Parents clutched their children tighter; neighbors comforted each other with whispered reassurances.

The sun had completely set by the time they reached the graveyard, its rows of gleaming white headstones neatly aligned, each separated by well-tended grass. The place exuded peacefulness, as though nature itself recognized it as a hallowed ground. Subtle lights illuminated the area, enough to make out silhouettes but never harsh or glaring. The architecture of the graveyard was simple: rows of markers, a few small stone monuments, and open spaces for new graves. Everything was designed to maintain an atmosphere of solemn beauty, allowing families to find some measure of peace when they visited.

At a careful pace, the soldiers employed magic to part the earth, creating perfect graves at set intervals. Then they placed each coffin into the soil with painstaking care. No detail was rushed; each coffin, each fallen comrade, received the full dignity they deserved. Once the coffins were lowered, the ground closed up again, leaving a row of fresh mounds that would soon be adorned with markers or simple memorial plaques. Those who had transported the bodies stepped away. Duty done, they rejoined their units or their families.

Now Vlad ventured forward, scanning the rows upon rows of newly made graves. The rawness of so much loss squeezed his chest as if an invisible hand were clenching his heart. He inhaled sharply, letting that anguish remind him of the war’s price. After all, seeing the scale of what had been lost could never be easy, even for a leader revered as a God-King. Determination flared in his eyes as he turned to face the multitude of mourners and watchers.

He recognized every face there, in a sense—parents who had lost children, children who had lost parents, spouses who had lost their partners, and soldiers who had lost their best friends. Over the months of battle, every life had been knitted into the tapestry of the war. Now, that tapestry showed a gaping hole where these heroes once stood.

Drawing himself upright, Vlad summoned his aura again. Flames and lightning crackled around his form, bright as the sun. The crowd gasped in faint surprise when a massive pillar of power erupted from him, lighting the night sky so thoroughly one might have thought dawn had arrived early.

"Thump!"

A colossal heartbeat seemed to echo from him, each pulse intensifying the swirling energy. With his voice amplified by that power, Vlad spoke to the entire assembly.

"People of the Xaos Civilization. These men and women were brothers and sisters, husbands and wives, mothers and fathers, sons and daughters. They are gone because they made the ultimate sacrifice. The victory against the Leviathan Race belongs to them!"

Thunderous in its resonance, his voice captured everyone’s attention, from the highest generals to the smallest children clinging to their parents. Not a whisper disturbed him. He continued, the pillar of light shining even brighter.

"They fought for a world in which we could live safely, free to choose our paths without fear or prejudice. They fought for the Xaos Civilization, and we will honor their memory by showing the entire world a future beyond the darkness of the apocalypse. A world that these men and women would be proud to have called home!"