Beyond the Apocalypse
Chapter 534: The Light and The Darkness

Chapter 534: The Light and The Darkness

Book 7 - The Rise of the Depravita Race

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It was a vast, desolate forest stretching for hundreds of kilometers, an ocean of twisted, skeletal trees whose warped branches clawed at a sky eternally shrouded in gloom.

Despite the millions of trees packed closely together, there was no trace of life here. Every trunk looked corrupted and mutated, as though some virulent force of decay had permeated the very soil beneath. The ground itself was crisscrossed by deep cracks that oozed a foul, blackish residue. It felt as if death had seeped so thoroughly into this land that nothing could thrive, not even bare vegetation.

A constant layer of ash blanketed the landscape, swirling in pale drifts that obscured vision. Inhaling this air would be impossible for anyone below the power level of a High Champion; the ash was thick and toxic, laced with the residue of countless battles and destructive energies.

Above this barren realm, a churning mass of chaotic clouds blocked out any sunlight.

Intermittent flares of red lightning illuminated the darkness, accompanied by thunderous detonations that fractured the silence. Each thunderclap tore viciously through the crimson sky as though reality itself threatened to unravel at any moment.

It was in this hellish forest, where rot and ruin reigned supreme, that a sudden beam of pale-gold light descended without warning. The impact annihilated hundreds of those gnarled trees, reducing them to splinters and billowing clouds of ash. A moment later, four figures emerged from the dissipating radiance. Their group was a strange mix of beings, each one exuding a terrifying aura in its own right.

One was a tall young man, well over two and a half meters in height. He had white hair and onyx-black eyes, though his irises glowed with rings of molten red, flickering like an active volcano. A small yellow cat with white stripes sat next to him, perched on his shoulder. This feline radiated such intense energy that he seemed to devour the surrounding air as though constantly drawing power into himself.

Then there was a massive white werewolf, nearly five meters tall and possessed of bulging muscles that hinted at overwhelming physical strength. Each cell of his body seemed filled with an explosive energy, ready to be unleashed. Finally, there was a towering forty-five-meter-tall dragon enveloped in an aura of searing flames. His colossal limbs were so powerful that they looked capable of lifting entire mountains with a single claw.

They were the four Sky Seed Depravitas. Upon arriving, Vlad’s eyes narrowed. Quickly, he concealed his energy signature, and Jormugandr and Ouroboros did the same. Fafnir focused for a brief moment, and his colossal frame began to shrink until he stood only about six meters tall. They wasted no time further reducing their presence, making sure they did not leave the slightest trace of themselves behind.

The brilliant pillar of light that had transported them was bound to draw attention in this hostile realm. While in Terra they had reigned at the top of the food chain, here they were just strong newcomers in a massive cosmic battleground filled with far more terrifying predators. The four exchanged quick glances and then darted into the distance at astonishing speed. Even though they cloaked their auras, their physical power and advanced life levels allowed them to move like flashes of lightning across the tormented landscape.

Jormungandr was slowest since he was a Mage and lacked the brute physical power of a Warrior. Yet since he could perch on Vlad’s shoulder, his personal speed mattered little. In mere minutes, they reached a cliff. Although they all had the ability to fly, they knew better than to soar into the open sky in this unknown world. Flying would be akin to painting a colossal target on their backs, an open invitation for hidden snipers or hostile entities to strike them from above.

Without slowing their momentum, Vlad, Ouroboros, and Fafnir began rappelling down the steep cliff. They used their hands—tough enough to withstand enormous friction—to grip protruding rocks and ledges. Every muscle in their bodies was tensed, ready to spring into evasive action at the first sign of threat. Falling from this height would not likely be lethal for them, but being attacked mid-air certainly could be if an unknown enemy seized the opportunity.

Fortune seemed to favor them this time. They reached the base of the cliff without encountering any ambushes. However, as soon as they were on solid ground again, the four Depravitas whirled around in unison, peering back at the distant forest where they had first arrived. A monstrous wave of soul force surged through the air, a vast pulse of spiritual energy that swept over the trees as if searching for intruders. It tore across the dead land like a hurricane of psychic power.

Vlad, Jormugandr, Ouroboros, and Fafnir simultaneously felt a flicker of relief. Had they remained where the light pillar had first deposited them, they would have been intercepted by this powerful being—someone with strength that could surpass all of them together. Whether friend or foe, encountering such power so soon would be unwise. They knew next to nothing about the local factions, and their first priority was to gather information.

With that in mind, the four resumed their trek across the ashen plains, their steps quick and deliberate. Their A.I. Chips analyzed the environment continuously, scanning for threats and identifying possible safe routes. After nearly five hours of constant movement, they finally arrived at a range of smoldering volcanoes. Rivers of molten lava flowed between jagged peaks, and the air was scalding, infused with noxious fumes. Despite this, the area appeared deserted, perhaps too harsh even for the fierce denizens of this Doomsday World.

Eventually, the group located a small cave nestled on the side of one of the volcanic ridges. It was barely big enough for them—especially Fafnir, who had to keep his draconic form partially minimized—but they made it work. Once inside, they carefully shielded the entrance with loose rocks, forming a makeshift barricade.

At last, the Sky Seed Depravitas allowed themselves a moment of rest. Their potent stamina and life force meant that even several hours of high-speed travel only required minutes of recuperation. Vlad, Ouroboros, and Fafnir spent a short while meditating, dispersing the fatigue building up in their cells. As for Jormugandr, he had spent most of the journey perched on Vlad’s shoulder, so he was far from exhausted.

When Vlad opened his eyes, they gleamed with an intense, calculating light. Silently, he gestured to the others, and they formed a circle within the cave. Although they could speak verbally without being easily overheard, they opted for safer telepathic communication through their A.I. Chips. The Doomsday World was simply too unpredictable; there was no telling what sort of surveillance could be at play.

"So this is how inhospitable a Doomsday World truly is," Vlad communicated. "Everything out there looks dead."

Jormugandr, Ouroboros, and Fafnir silently agreed. It was the small yellow cat, who answered first.

"I can sense that the ambient energy here is extremely dense, which would normally be excellent for training. However, it’s laced with chaotic, toxic forces. That’s why the ground is steeped in decay, and the air choked with ash."

Jormugandr, as the Depravita of Gluttony, was uniquely attuned to different energy forms. He often consumed or assimilated them to refine his own power. "Normal humans," he went on, "would be unable to train here effectively. The environment itself would kill them. Fortunately, our Depravita constitution seems capable of devouring and filtering these toxic energies. It’s an advantage for us."

At that, all four Sky Seed Depravitas shared an inward smile. Their special, unnatural heritage had undeniable benefits.

Vlad’s mental voice resonated again, laden with purpose: "We need to figure out exactly what this Doomsday World is like and which major powers are using it as their battleground. If we’re lucky, we might come across some human civilization among the chaos."

He paused, a cold glint appearing in his eyes. "Our best option is to seek out someone from ’The Darkness’ side and forcibly extract the memories we need. If we encounter forces of ’The Light’ first, we’ll be compelled to negotiate, and that might expose us to more complications."

His three companions showed no surprise at the mention of The Darkness and The Light. These were sweeping labels used across the universe to categorize planes, races, and their native laws. It did not necessarily refer to moral good or evil. Rather, it pertained to the primordial forces that had birthed them. Demons from the Abyss and devils from Hell were classified as beings of The Darkness, whereas humans, elves, and Vikings from Valhalla were associated with The Light.

In general, these two sides were akin to fire and water—coexisting was difficult, if not impossible. Their planes were often hostile to one another’s existence, with strong mutual animosity shaped by countless wars across time. That said, The Light was not monolithic, nor was The Darkness. Even within each camp, factions could fight among themselves. After all, Heaven was also a part of The Light, and it had centuries of conflict with other Light-aligned realms.

As the four mentally agreed on this plan—to hunt down a likely target from The Darkness and rip the relevant information from their mind—a sudden alert flashed through their A.I. Chips:

[Beep! A life form has just entered the volcanic mountain range. Its soul aura does not match that of humans. High probability of being a member of a Darkness-aligned race... Estimated Level: 19 (Sage).]