Beyond the Apocalypse
Chapter 634: Spartacus

Chapter 634: Spartacus

Shock, awe, and wonder appeared in the eyes of Vlad, Agamemnon, Janus, and all the other Sages as they witnessed the astonishing display of power.

The Legend of the Zanis Family had felt like an unstoppable force, an executioner descending from the sky to deliver his judgment. Yet, in an instant, a swordsman had appeared from nowhere and severed his arm with a strike so precise and devastating that it defied all logic.

And he wasn’t finished.

Immediately after severing the arm, the swordsman delivered a brutal kick to the Zanis Family Legend’s face, sending him hurtling backward. Blood sprayed from his mouth as his body shot through the air like a meteor.

Vlad’s breath caught in his throat.

"Who...?" His sharp gaze locked onto the mysterious warrior, and his eyes widened in recognition.

The man had short black hair, was clad in armor seemingly forged from black dragon scales, and wielded an old, rust-covered sword.

Vlad did not know his name, but he had seen this man before. This was one of the Legends who had stood beside Grand Marshal Maximo when they first arrived at the Golden Sky Fortress.

A storm of thoughts crashed through Vlad’s mind.

"Why is he here? Why now?"

But there was no time to dwell on questions.

His instincts screamed, and his body moved on its own. His energy ignited once more, his aura flaring like an erupting volcano as he shouted.

"Don’t lower your guard!"

The Sky Seed Depravitas, Agamemnon, Janus, and the rest of the teams all immediately tensed.

Unconsciously, they had begun to relax after the swordsman’s arrival, subconsciously perceiving him as a protector. But Legends fought on an entirely different level, and even if this man was on their side, that did not mean they could afford to let their guard down.

The swordsman’s sharp eyes flickered toward Vlad, acknowledging his caution with a subtle nod before turning his full attention back to the Zanis Family Legend.

Despite his crippling injury, the Legend in tattered clothes steadied himself in midair, his one remaining arm trembling as he adopted a battle stance.

His gaze burned with killing intent, but beneath his rage, a flicker of worry and dread shone in his eyes.

Then, his voice rang out, filled with hatred and disbelief.

"Spartacus."

The name resonated in his mind like a thunderclap.

The Zanis Family Legend’s fingers clenched into a trembling fist. If he had the choice, he would have fled immediately. But Decimus had perished under his watch. The consequences of failure would be far worse than even the wrath of Spartacus, and he needed to present a scapegoat to the Zanis Family.

He gritted his teeth and clung to a final lifeline—the power and influence of the Zanis Family.

"You are meddling in the affairs of the Zanis Family." His voice carried a thinly veiled threat, but Spartacus only sneered in response.

The rusted sword in his hand rose higher, his killing intent surging, causing the very fabric of space to tremble around him.

"I will give you three seconds to run." His voice was cold and absolute. "If you are still in my sight when time is up, I will kill you."

The air grew deathly still.

The Legend in tattered clothes gritted his teeth, sweat forming on his brow. Fear crept into his heart.

He glanced between Spartacus and Vlad for a moment. Then, without another word, he turned and fled, flashing into the distance at full speed.

Spartacus never took his eyes off the man. His expression remained unreadable, his sharpness intensifying.

Then, his mouth opened once more.

"Three."

As he spoke the word, Spartacus raised his rust-covered sword and slashed downward with all his strength.

There was no energy surge.

No fluctuations in the air.

No visible trace of power.

Yet, an agonized scream tore through the skies.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

Vlad and the others turned toward the source of the sound, their eyes widening in horror.

More than five kilometers away, the Zanis Family Legend, who had been fleeing at full speed, was sliced clean in half.

For a long moment, there was only silence.

Every single Sage present stood frozen, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

They had seen Spartacus attack. But none of them could understand how he had done it. The idea of a sword strike occurring in one place and its power reaching thousands of meters away at the exact same moment was unfathomable.

Only Vlad, thanks to his attunement to the Law of Space, had sensed something.

Even then, all he had perceived was a disturbance, a faint ripple in space—but the sheer level of mastery Spartacus had displayed was beyond his comprehension.

His voice was barely a whisper as he exhaled a single word. "Amazing."

Fascination flickered through Vlad’s crimson eyes as he stared at Spartacus.

The swordsman turned away from the corpse of the fallen Legend and spoke in a blunt, disinterested tone:

"Let’s return to the Golden Sky Fortress."

The command was simple, but it carried a weight of finality.

No one dared to question him. The Sages nodded immediately, falling into formation as if Spartacus had always been their leader.

However, Vlad’s sharp gaze drifted toward Valeria.

A dangerous gleam flickered in his eyes, and his grip on his sword tightened. He had not forgotten her treachery. She had tried to hand him over to the Zanis Family’s Legend.

The urge to cut her down where she stood burned fiercely within him.

But before he could take a step, he felt Agamemnon’s piercing gaze on him.

"It is not wise," Agamemnon said quietly. "Killing a member of the Golden Sky Fortress in open space could lead to unnecessary complications, especially if her family demands compensation."

Vlad frowned deeply. He didn’t like it, but he understood. There would be a better time.

"I will wait." With that thought in mind, Vlad turned away.

Without another word, he and the others rose into the sky, joining Spartacus as they headed back to the Golden Sky Fortress.