Beyond the Apocalypse
Chapter 562: Back to the battlefield (II)

Chapter 562: Back to the battlefield (II)

A sprawling labyrinth of interlinked canyons stretched across thousands of kilometers, forming one of the most perilous battlegrounds in the Land of the Three Calamities. Even the shallowest of these gorges plummeted over fifteen hundred meters into darkness, and there were some places so profoundly deep that even at midday, the sun’s rays failed to illuminate the bottom. This domain was known as the Howling Chasm and was notorious among human and Vorometallicae warriors.

A long-forgotten, enigmatic force permeated the entire region, hindering the senses of cultivators who dared to enter. Under its influence, one might stand a mere fifty meters from an enemy yet remain completely unaware of their presence unless they managed to make direct visual contact. Because the Howling Chasm sat directly between the Golden Sky Fortress of Graecia and a major Vorometallicae stronghold, it became a perpetual theater of conflict for Sages from both factions.

For those below the Sage Tier, stepping into this area was considered suicide. A single slip—or even the faintest misjudgment—could result in a swift death. Meanwhile, Legends generally abstained from this battleground, not out of fear but due to a tacit understanding between Graecia and the Vorometallicae.

They treated the Howling Chasm as a crucible of sorts: a place where Sages could refine their power through combat and where only the strongest might emerge as potential Legends. Neither side truly trusted the other, so each maintained outposts equipped with detection towers to monitor the arrival of any Legend-tier threats. Once such a presence was detected, friendly troops would withdraw, refusing to allow higher-level cultivators to tip the balance in what was meant to be a proving ground for Sages alone.

Against this grim backdrop, a middle-aged female warrior now found herself fighting for her very life. A deep wound spanned her chest, exposing torn flesh and glistening bone. The gash had shredded her once-sturdy armor, leaving her open to further attacks. Each breath was labored and shallow, accompanied by jarring spasms as waves of electric energy crackled through her muscles and nerves.

She fixed her gaze on the monstrous being that stood a short distance away. This Voroe Sage seemed molded out of conductive ore, his enormous frame accentuated by jagged plates of blackened, lightning-charged metal. Sparks danced along his limbs, occasionally discharging into the chasm’s rocky floor with audible zaps. At that moment, she couldn’t help but focus on his hulking claws—razor-sharp instruments that glowed with flickering arcs of storm energy, revealing their lethal potential. One misstep in her defenses had allowed him to land a blow, and the consequences were dire.

Yet, her eyes remained resolute, unyielding. She had come to the Land of the Three Calamities to hone her skills, well aware that her life could be forfeited at any moment. If death was her fate, she intended to meet it fighting rather than cowering. A sneer curved the Voroe Sage’s metallic features, his teeth resembling serrated shards of steel.

"Yes, keep struggling, little girl," he hissed, arcs of lightning crawling over his obsidian plating. "It will be all the more gratifying when I—Harbider—see your face contort in horror as you realize you can’t escape death!"

With that sadistic declaration, he lunged, each footstep shattering the stone beneath him. Though her chest burned with agonizing pain, the woman raised her mace in both hands, preparing to counter. Her mind raced through the possibilities. Perhaps she could duck at the last moment or aim a well-timed strike at a vulnerable joint. She braced for impact, teeth clenched against the surging current pulsing through her body.

Before Harbider’s massive claws could strike, a high-pitched sound split the air—something like the discharge of a concentrated energy weapon.

"ZNNNNNN—"

A brilliant streak of light slammed into the Voroe Sage’s torso from the side, catching him at point-blank range. The force sent him hurtling backward through the canyon floor, gouging a deep trench as he tumbled. Hundreds of meters passed before he managed to regain his footing, groaning with equal parts pain and anger. Shocked, the woman drew a ragged breath, her vision blurring from the exertion. She looked toward the source of the beam.

A young man strode into view, bearing white armor etched with faint runic lines that glimmered in the dim light. He had stark white hair and held a slim, black sword in his right hand. His eyes, dark with crimson irises, glowed as if stoked by an inner furnace.

Of course, the newcomer was no other than the Depravita of Wrath, Vlad. He and the other Sky Seed Depravitas had chosen the Howlying Chasm as their battlefield of choice. In it, they would find many powerful enemies that would push them to their limits, not to mention that they would have an advantage.

Unlike everybody else whose senses were hindered, the Sky Seed Depravitas could rely on the A.I. Chip’s scanning power to perceive the surroundings and the enemies nearby.

"You should leave," he said, not taking his eyes off Harbider. "Now."

His words snapped her out of her stunned stupor. She still held her mace and the notion of teaming up made perfect sense. In a Doomsday World, honor or pride rarely stopped anyone from joining forces against a mutual enemy. "We can take him together," she insisted, wincing as her wound throbbed.

"You’d only be a hindrance if you stayed. Go now. I won’t repeat myself," he said, his tone unyielding.

Before she could argue, a thunderous pulse rippled through the air. It came from Vlad’s very heartbeat, a single, powerful thump that unleashed a wave of wrathful energy around him. The ground cracked beneath his feet, and arcs of destructive force swirled around his body. The display was more than enough to convey that he was not requesting her compliance—he was demanding it.

Though she bristled at his dismissal, the woman understood the gravity of the situation. She gave Vlad a solemn nod of thanks, then dashed away, leaving the impending conflict to him. Her survival instinct, combined with Vlad’s clear superiority, convinced her there was no point in lingering.