Beyond the Apocalypse
Chapter 538: Ambush (I)

Chapter 538: Ambush (I)

Jormugandr allowed Vlad, Ouroboros, and Fafnir a moment to absorb the information about their recent foe before continuing with his explanation.

"The Vorometallicae come from a harsh and chaotic environment," he began. "It has shaped them into beings of unparalleled physical might and resilience. What truly sets them apart from demons and devils, however, is their innate ability to absorb and integrate supernatural minerals and metals into their bodies. As they grow stronger, these metals enhance their power, durability, and abilities."

A flicker of understanding passed through the eyes of Vlad, Ouroboros, and Fafnir. Suddenly, it made sense why the three-headed minotaur they had just battled had seemed overwhelmingly powerful. This revelation also sparked a gleam of greed in their expressions.

If the Vorometallicae literally fused special ores into their flesh, that meant each one of them could carry valuable resources within their bodies—treasures that might be extracted and sold.

Even more so, Jormugandr, as an Alchemy MasterMaster, contemplated how these exotic metals could be forged into potent new weapons or armor. Yet before they could let their imaginations run wild, they refocused on the information, eager to hear the rest of what he had learned.

They knew their enemies now, but in this vast Doomsday World—a battlefield between the forces of Darkness and Light—they still needed to identify potential allies. Jormugandr, perceiving their thoughts, continued.

"The representative of the Light in this world is an extremely powerful plane known as Graecia. It’s ruled by humans and has been locked in conflict with the Chaovoratities Plane—the home of the Vorometallicae—for millennia. Graecia is under the command of a man named Alexandros, also known as the ’White Death.’"

At that, Jormugandr paused, his feline features growing solemn. "Ovalion’s memories held no direct image of Alexandros as it seemed he had never met the man, but it’s clear that the Vorometallicae regard him with genuine horror. His name is considered almost taboo. They fear him on a fundamental level."

Vlad, Ouroboros, and Fafnir exchanged significant glances, each of them sensing the weight of that revelation. For a single man’s name to be so dreaded by a warrior race equivalent to demonkin or devilkin implied that Alexandros was truly monstrous in power. Anyone able to elicit that kind of terror from the Vorometallicae could very well surpass the might of Legends.

Jormugandr then directed his gaze toward Ovalion’s fallen corpse. "I managed to salvage a scrap of information from his mind about a fortress controlled by Graecia called Golden Sky. We could reach it in roughly two weeks if we move quickly."

Vlad’s lips curled into a small but satisfied smile. A strong human settlement might serve as an excellent place to gather more knowledge and secure a base of operations. The battle with Ovalion had shown them that exploring this Land of the Three Calamities on their own was fraught with peril. At the very least, a fortress populated by humans might offer a semblance of shelter and the chance to learn the local power structures.

However, before Vlad could give the order to depart, Jormugandr raised another point. "I also managed to sift out something equally important. There’s an ambush being planned. A group of Voros are going to attack a human caravan making its way to the Golden Sky Fortress."

Instantly, a predatory gleam ignited in Vlad’s eyes, and a triumphant smile spread across his face. Although they had discovered that Graecia was part of The Light and the Sky Seed Depravitas were also members of the camp, it was not so simple; after all, they were foreign and without any background.

It would be far easier to talk their way into Golden Sky if they saved a Graecian caravan from certain doom than if they showed up unannounced. Still, Vlad intended to weigh the situation carefully. An ambush in the Land of the Three Calamities was no joke; unless victory seemed plausible, it would be foolish to risk their own lives for a group of strangers.

They all reached the same conclusion without having to speak it aloud. If they could tilt the scales in favor of the humans and earn their trust, it might accelerate their integration into local affairs. Vlad nodded decisively.

"Let’s go."

Before leaving, Jormugandr stored Ovalion’s mutilated corpse and any usable equipment in his spatial ring. Then, as if he were no more than a housecat rather than a terrifying mage, he hopped onto Vlad’s shoulder and pointed in the direction where the ambush was likely to occur. Keeping their auras tightly sealed, the group charged forward at high speed, mindful of the lurking dangers in this hostile domain.

...

Several thousand kilometers away from the volcanic range where the Sky Seed Depravitas had clashed with the Vorometallicae, a massive caravan pressed onward through scorched plains.

"Caravan" was an understatement; with its sprawling size, it more closely resembled a military convoy. Scores of heavily reinforced wagons, drawn by mutant warhorses, traversed the barren land at astonishing speed—easily surpassing a thousand kilometers per hour. Hundreds of mounted riders were flanking the wagons on all sides, each clad in intricate armor and wielding advanced magical weapons.

The vanguard of this procession was a giant of a man clad in what appeared to be dark, demonic armor. He rode atop a hulking horse nearly five meters tall, its ebony hides rippling with muscle and magical runes. A serrated sword glimmered ominously on his back, exuding an aura that set nearby warriors on edge.

The man’s gaze swept from side to side, unblinking and cold, as he evaluated every crag and crevice of the terrain. Judging by his posture and the tension in his shoulders, he expected trouble sooner rather than later.

As the convoy neared a narrow pass flanked by two towering mountain ranges, the man gripped the reins of his mount more tightly. This pass was a natural choke point—perfect for an ambush. He gestured to a cluster of subordinate officers, and they immediately fanned out, scanning the heights for any sign of movement.