Beyond the Apocalypse
Chapter 693: Legendary Tier Spiritual Pressure

Chapter 693: Legendary Tier Spiritual Pressure

The two Legendary Voroe—one resembling a wingless ice draconic and the other a grotesquely mutated humanoid with elongated, blade-like fingers—were momentarily taken aback by the sudden surge of willpower erupting from the human forces of Graecia.

From the depths of their cold, twisted hearts, they had expected the humans to crumble under the weight of despair. The sheer presence of two Legendary Voroes should have shattered all resistance. They had believed fear would drown out every last ember of defiance.

But it hadn’t.

Because of one voice—his voice.

The words of the Depravita of Wrath had somehow reignited their fire. Rather than falter, the humans fought harder. Their formations tightened, their spells surged with fury, and their hearts—already heavy with grief—now blazed with a desperate kind of courage that no monster could predict. It was maddening.

The Voroe didn’t show it on their expressionless faces, but they were tired. Exhausted, even. The battle had dragged on far longer than anticipated, draining them more than they cared to admit. Their energy reserves were depleted, and a drawn-out fight was not to their advantage. They needed an end. Fast.

Fortunately, there was a simple way to shift the tide once again. Since the humans had drawn strength from the Depravita’s promise, then witnessing his annihilation would surely snuff out their hope.

If they saw his broken corpse—if they saw that even he couldn’t stop what was coming—they would know the futility of their resistance.

Without a moment’s hesitation, the ice draconic and the bladed humanoid turned their eyes toward the dark cocoon in the distance—the place where the Depravita of Wrath, was preparing whatever final gamble he had planned.

They prepared to strike.

But before either could launch forward, four figures materialized in the sky, cutting through the clouds like divine messengers.

One was a majestic dragon of fire and radiance, flames rippling off his wings like a living sun. Beside him hovered a white werewolf, clad in a sleek, glowing exoskeleton that crackled with arcs of lightning around every muscle. Below them soared a small yellow feline perched atop a Tyrannosaurus Rex with both demonic and angelic wings extended behind it like a paradox made flesh.

The Legendary Voroe paused only for a second—but it was enough.

"Hmph! Ants!" the wingless ice draconic growled, his deep voice brimming with contempt. "You dare to stand in the path of the great Asuru?"

"Insects should know their place," snarled the blade-handed mutant, his many arms twitching with anticipation. "I, Karot, will teach you what that means."

The air itself seemed to vibrate with killing intent. Without waiting for any further exchange, the two Legendary Voroe blurred forward. The force of their movement turned the sky into a pressure chamber, their presence alone suffocating.

But the Sky Seed Depravitas stood their ground.

Their eyes burned with purpose. Determination shaped their every breath. They didn’t need to win—they just needed to hold the line. Five minutes. They would give Vlad five minutes, even if it cost them their lives.

Fafnir and Ouroboros surged toward Asuru, the ice draconic, while Jormungandr, riding the T-Rex, roared defiantly as he rushed to intercept Karot. In an instant, the sky erupted into a symphony of elemental chaos.

Fafnir collided head-on with Asuru, the clash between their powers generating titanic shockwaves. Fire and ice slammed into each other, creating explosions of vapor that engulfed the skies in white mist.

The Depravita of Envy was the physically strongest of the Sky Seed, his body enhanced by his Sage Ability and Atlas Might. Even so, the sheer force of Asuru’s blows sent tremors through his bones, each strike threatening to shatter him.

Asuru raised his claw for a finishing strike, but lightning flashed—and with it, Ouroboros appeared. The Depravita of Greed landed a devastating kick into Asuru’s side. It was a blow that would have sent a Half-Step Legendary Voroe flying hundreds, maybe thousands, of meters.

It moved Asuru just ten.

The Voroe countered immediately, his claw lashing out with such precision and speed that Ouroboros barely dodged. The air where the claw passed shimmered and cracked, as though the space itself had been sliced open.

Nearby, Jormungandr and the T-Rex faced Karot. The mutated Voroe’s movements were blinding. Even together, the duo struggled to keep up. Karot’s blade-fingers tore through the T-Rex’s durable scales with terrifying ease, leaving deep, energy-laced wounds. Wounds that didn’t just cut—they corrupted, impeding the beast’s natural regeneration.

Jormungandr was forced to continuously deploy Living Energy Incarnations to keep the T-Rex in the fight. Without them, their mount would’ve fallen long ago.

Every second passed like a razor’s edge pressed to their throats. They knew one misstep meant death.

And yet... they endured.

The Legendary Voroe were strong—monstrously so—but they were failing to do the one thing they needed most: kill the Sages. They couldn’t land the finishing blow. Time continued to slip away.

Their frustration began to show.

Worse, down on the ground, their forces were faltering. The human army, fueled by desperation and the hope Vlad had given them, had begun to push back. Every moment the Sages held the sky, the humans below fought with renewed strength. And then, the air changed.

From the dark cocoon that surrounded Vlad, an overwhelming pressure began to spread. First, it was subtle—a strange shift in the atmosphere. But then, it exploded.

"BOOOOM!"

A burst of dark, shimmering energy tore across the sky, warping the very fabric of space. The shockwave rippled through both the battlefield and the sky. It carried with it a spiritual presence so immense, so foreign, that even the Legendary Voroe flinched.

That aura... it exceeded the limits of the Sage Tier.

Asuru snarled. "ENOUGH!"

In a flash, he released a storm of frozen particles, forming a barrier of absolute cold that engulfed the sky. The ice field spread instantly, freezing Fafnir, Ouroboros, and the T-Rex in place. It was brutal, swift, and devastating.

Karot’s eyes narrowed. He could feel it—that terrifying pressure growing stronger by the second.

Now the Depravitas were frozen it was his chance.

He could finish this before it was too late.

Without a word, he vanished in a blur of motion, crossing the battlefield in less than a heartbeat. In the very next second, he reappeared in front of the dark cocoon—Vlad’s sanctuary of transformation.

His bladed fingers gleamed.