Beyond the Apocalypse
Chapter 509: Good day, people of Oceanis. I am Alonz

Chapter 509: Good day, people of Oceanis. I am Alonz

Rayland stood atop the western wall of the battered city, his heart pounding in disbelief at what he was witnessing. Mere moments earlier, he and his soldiers had prepared for a brutal, bloody confrontation against a massive demon horde. Their plan involved archers, mages, and every last ounce of will they could muster just to hold off the onslaught, perhaps buying enough time for the most vulnerable—children, elders, and the sick—to flee deeper into the city’s half-collapsed buildings.

Yet, in the span of a heartbeat, everything had changed.

A lone figure, a young man with white hair and an almost casual demeanor descended from the sky like a bolt of lightning. Before any of Rayland’s soldiers could release a single arrow or cast even the weakest spell, this stranger had charged straight into the demon horde, dispatching them in droves with nothing but his fists.

The entire spectacle defied logic. Indeed, Rayland’s mind struggled to grasp the level of power on display. Every time the young man’s fist connected, it left a demon crumpled on the ground—broken, gasping for breath, yet somehow still alive. The man was so precise in his strikes that it became obvious he was avoiding lethal force, choosing only to incapacitate rather than kill. Given the raw destructive energy he exuded, that restraint seemed even more astonishing.

"How can there be someone so powerful in this world?" Rayland murmured under his breath, eyes wide in bewilderment. The question echoed inside his head as he watched the young man neutralize hundreds of demons each passing second, never once faltering or slowing his momentum.

"Rayland, should we attack?" one of his deputies ventured, clearly echoing the doubt gnawing at many on the wall. Archers stood with bowstrings taut and mages clutched glowing staves, waiting for an order. But Rayland’s hand remained raised, signaling them to hold. His thoughts raced.

Rayland drew a deep breath, ordering his thoughts. Then, keeping his hand elevated only a moment longer, he finally lowered it in a gesture of ceasefire. "If we march onto that battlefield," he said in a measured tone, "we’ll only become a burden to that man. We can do nothing but wait and watch."

The relief among the soldiers was palpable. They had braced for a catastrophic clash that promised heavy losses, only to find the demons vanquished—at least in spirit—before the fight had even truly begun.

As the defenders looked on, the young man maintained his relentless onslaught. Each blow sent demons flying. One massive Abyssal, presumably the horde’s leader, was slammed into the ground with such force that it spat blood and ceased all attempts to rise. In under half an hour, every demon within view lay incapacitated, groaning in pain and crawling feebly if they could still move at all.

Even from the distant wall, Rayland could see the stranger panting—a thin sheen of sweat covering him. It seemed regulating his incredible strength so as not to kill every demon outright demanded a toll on his stamina. The notion that this was him "holding back" left Rayland breathless. If this man truly unleashed his power, the entire battlefield might be leveled in an instant.

Eventually, the young man turned his gaze toward the city walls, meeting Rayland’s eyes from afar. Without uttering a word, he gathered crackling motes of demonic fire and lightning in his hand, then hurled them into the sky. The swirling orb ascended until it detonated in a spectacular flash of brightness, illuminating the heavens. Stunned whispers rippled across Rayland’s forces as they tried to understand the purpose of that display.

They didn’t have to wonder for long.

A tremor coursed through the ground once again. This time, a well-organized formation of soldiers clad in dark armor advanced across the ravaged battlefield. Only ten thousand in number, they moved with an efficiency and unity that made them appear vastly more daunting than a chaotic demon horde. Their presence exuded a chilling aura of discipline and lethal potential. The young man took one final look at the city’s defenders. Then, in a blur of motion, he ascended skyward, breaking the sound barrier repeatedly until he vanished from sight.

Rayland stood on the wall, stunned. "What in the world just happened?" he whispered to himself. That impossibly powerful individual had arrived, obliterated the demon threat, summoned an army, and vanished as abruptly as he came.

"AHHHHHHH!" A strangled cry of pain echoed from the ground below, snapping Rayland’s attention back to the present. He saw the newly arrived troops in dark armor produce some sort of parchment. Black plasma tendrils extended from these scrolls, latching onto the immobilized demons and consuming them entirely, leaving only piles of ash. Soldiers on the wall gasped in unison, half in horror, half in awe.

Then, a smaller contingent—just ten warriors—broke from the main group and approached the city’s walls. Towering nearly two and a half meters each, they cut a fearsome silhouette, yet they themselves took flanking positions around a middle-aged man in pristine white armor. His face was visible—a calm, reassuring smile etched upon his features as he walked closer.

Rayland’s own men on the wall shifted anxiously, unsure whether to open the gate, fire arrows, or do nothing. "Hold," Rayland ordered quietly. "Don’t provoke them." It wasn’t a matter of cowardice but logic. Even if they outnumbered these soldiers twenty to one, there was an unmistakable aura suggesting an easy victory for these newcomers if hostilities broke out.

The delegation halted about thirty meters from the city walls. The man in white armor stepped forward, his voice carrying easily across the distance. "Good day, people of Oceanis. I am Aloz, Chief Councilor of the Xaos Kingdom. I come under the direct command of the Xaos King. Who among you leads this city?"

Alonz’s voice possessed a soothing quality that noticeably eased the tension among Rayland’s ranks. Whether through skillful diplomacy or some enchantment, it softened the defenders’ apprehension. However, Rayland kept his wits sharp, descending cautiously from the wall to meet them on more level ground. He paused a mere ten paces away.

"I am Rayland," he declared with as much firmness as he could muster. "I lead this city. First of all, please let me extend our deepest gratitude to the Xaos King for rescuing us from the demon horde."