Beyond the Apocalypse
Chapter 516: Taking control of all the shores

Chapter 516: Taking control of all the shores

On one of the main shores of Ocenis stood another angelic city. It matched the grandeur of the one Ouroboros had demolished: towering walls, gleaming spires, and wide avenues designed to evoke awe in all who beheld it. A rigid caste system, enforced by the city’s angelic overlords, divided the populace into tiers. At the top of this cruel hierarchy reigned the angels, revered as divine protectors and saviors.

Yet, all of that shattered less than an hour ago. Where once angelic patrollers and high-ranking heretics marched in displays of dominance, now black-armored warriors of the Xaos Kingdom filled the streets.

At the heart of the devastation, near the ruined central plaza, lay Shamira, leader of the angelic host. Tendrils of crackling lightning bound her limbs, rendering even her enhanced muscles useless. She could not so much as twitch a finger, much less conjure a healing spell or holy shield to free herself. The same dreadful energy coiled around the dozens of angels who had once enforced her will. Shamira looked on, her eyes wide with terror, as her subordinates convulsed on the ground, each helplessly pinned like insects under glass.

"I’ve never quite understood why you angels are so arrogant."

The voice that intruded upon her silent horror was deceptively calm, laced with curiosity and scorn in equal measure. Shamira turned her gaze with difficulty to see a small, bright-yellow cat strolling across broken cobblestones and the unconscious bodies of her fellow angels. Its size was laughable—barely half a meter tall—yet Shamira had witnessed the creature transform into a serpent of lightning and flame more than four hundred meters long. The memory was enough to send fresh tremors of fear down her spine: that colossal form had devastated her best warriors with shameful ease.

"Your battle skills and numbers," the small yellow cat continued, "are worse than what most demon hordes bring to the table. And those ’heretics’ you recruit to serve you? Nothing but incompetent garbage that break at the first sign of difficulty."

Jormungandr cast a disinterested glance at Shamira, as though he expected no reply. Then he shifted his attention to a tall, broad-shouldered young man who approached, boots crunching through shattered stone and glass.

Despite his youth, the man stood over four meters in height, muscles rippling beneath his black armor, an aura of High Champion-level power radiating from him. Yet, for all his imposing presence, he lowered his head the instant he reached Jormungandr, bowing as one might before a king.

"Lord Jormungandr," he said, voice tinged with deference. "We’ve secured the city and taken control of its populace. How shall we deal with the heretics?"

A cold light flickered in the Depravita’s feline eyes as he stared at the man. He spoke without hesitation.

"That was clear from the start," Jormungandr replied. "Every last one of them is guilty of collaborating with alien oppressors and labeled as a heretic. We’ll incarcerate them while going through Overlord’s reports. If they’re found guilty of capital offenses, they’ll be executed."

Captain Alorio tensed, clearly uneasy. He was hailed as a prodigy in the Xaos Kingdom, having led thousands of men during the Leviathan War. But this was his first mission against large numbers of human foes. There was a unique dread in fighting one’s own kind, however misguided they might be.

"My Lord," Alorio ventured, a note of conflict creeping into his voice, "if we go through with that, we’ll end up killing more than eighty-five percent of these so-called heretics. Most were brainwashed by the angels. Perhaps we can—"

He never finished the sentence. A suffocating pressure descended upon him like an invisible serpent coiling around his chest. He nearly collapsed under the crushing aura that oozed from Jormungandr’s small frame. At that moment, it felt as though he were standing before a primordial beast, one capable of devouring the sky itself.

Then, almost as quickly as it appeared, the pressure lifted. Jormungandr leveled his frigid gaze on Alorio.

"Captain Alorio," he said softly, "this is a post-apocalyptic world. Everyone has excuses for their crimes—desperation, hunger, survival, indoctrination. But none of that erases guilt. The Xaos Civilization promises endless opportunities, yes, but it cannot flourish unless we cull corruption at its root. We will not waste resources imprisoning them here in Ocenis, nor will we send them back to Xaos City and risk them poisoning our capital with treachery. They will die here and now."

His eyes seemed to darken as though any trace of emotion had been swallowed by the vast emptiness within him. "Is that understood?"

Alorio swallowed hard. He had fought monstrous abominations without flinching, yet the weight of Jormungandr’s command filled him with something akin to dread. Still, he knew the chain of command within the Xaos Kingdom was absolute.

"Yes, my Lord!" he affirmed, snapping a salute before whirling around and dashing off to carry out the order. Cold sweat clung to his back, seeping through his armor. Even in the Xaos Kingdom, which offered soldiers the highest respect and rank, defiance of a direct command meant losing everything—or worse.

Jormungandr watched the young warrior go. Something in his feline gaze flickered with what might have been sympathy, but it vanished in an instant. He did not despise Alorio for raising moral concerns. Quite the opposite: soldiers who could question the morality of the orders they received showed the capacity for deeper thought and would rise higher in the military ranks. Yet at the same time, there was no room for sentiment in this instance. The angels had enslaved these people, and many of the human collaborators had willingly committed atrocities at their side.

Moreover, the Xaos Kingdom was preparing to ascend to a higher dimension, where the battles would only grow more brutal. If they balked at dealing with heretics now, how would they fare when they faced entire armies of humans above? Their warriors needed to strengthen not just their bodies but their resolve—and that meant making ruthless decisions when necessary.

Amid the ruined city streets, black-armored Xaos soldiers fanned out, detaining civilians, many of whom were trembling with fear and confusion. The so-called "heretics" were already being segregated under heavy guard. Towering Warriors and spellcasters stood watch, ensuring no one could break rank. Those who tried to flee were unceremoniously struck down or pinned to the ground by the unstoppable soldiers.

High overhead, the sky remained eerily clear, as if nature itself could sense the grim finality of what was unfolding below. Lightning still crackled around the angels bound on the plaza floor, refusing to dissipate. At the heart of it all, Shamira struggled just to breathe as she stared at the destruction of her life’s work. Once, she had imagined herself ascending to an even higher plane, a favored daughter of her god. Now, her city lay in smoking ruin, her followers neutralized, her voice silenced.

...

Far from Jormungandr, another figure was at work on the last major shore of Ocenis. The Divine Avatar waved his hand, effortlessly eradicating the final remnants of a demonic horde. He kept his eyes closed, seemingly impervious to the wails of agony from the dying demons. Many of them were writhing in unbearable pain, crippled by wounds severe enough to prevent any chance of escape.

Xaos soldiers, moving with practiced efficiency and precision, hurried to seal the demons’ souls before the creatures succumbed to their injuries. Their motions were quick and methodical, ensuring each demonic spirit was harvested for later use.

"Overlord, we’ve secured the shore, and there are no further signs of demons in the region. What should our next move be?"

Even though Overlord occupied the highest echelon of command in the Xaos Army, the one speaking to him was a Xaos Duke and had the right to talk as equals with the A.I. Chip Clone. Of course, Viserin’s tone carried deep respect and admiration for the logistical brilliance Overlord constantly displayed.

Overlord regarded Duke Viserin in contemplative silence. After a moment, he spoke in a measured voice. "There’s a cluster of rabid Monsters in the rocky mountains ahead. Beyond that, a small human outpost lies at the base. Allow the soldiers two hours to rest. Then we’ll move out. You will lead half our forces into the mountains to annihilate as many monsters as possible and then bring what remains down the far side of the range. I’ll be waiting there with the rest of our battalions."

Viserin’s eyes narrowed. While eliminating dangerous Monsters was part of the Xaos Kingdom’s broader strategy, he realized the plan Overlord proposed could potentially jeopardize the human settlement below if any of the creatures slipped past the soldiers.

"How confident are you," Viserin asked, voice taut with concern, "that we can stop the entire Monster pack without letting them breach your perimeter and threaten the outpost?"

Unlike Overlord, Viserin did not consider the sacrifice of innocent lives a tolerable cost. One reason Vlad had sent him alongside the A.I. Chip Clone was to ensure that, whenever possible, civilians were spared from unnecessary harm.

Overlord studied Viserin for a moment. His reply was calm, laced with an aloof certainty. "There’s a ninety-nine percent chance we’ll exterminate every monster before they get anywhere close to the human outpost."

Duke Viserin held Overlord’s gaze for several seconds, weighing the risk. Finally, he inclined his head in agreement and turned to rally his men.