Entering Apocalypse in Easy-Mode
Chapter 387: More Moving

Chapter 387: More Moving

Michael’s expression hardened, but he couldn’t completely mask his shock. His golden eyes flickered erractically as if searching for any sign of deception in Clyde’s face.

He knew Asmodeus well. He was one of the strongest Demon Kings. He was a being feared even among the higher realms. Even for Michael, defeating Asmodeus would be a grueling battle.

Victory was possible, he knows he can kill him, but it would take everything he had.

Yet, Clyde had done it.

The realization settled in, and Michael’s rigid posture shifted slightly. For the first time since their meeting, he regarded Clyde with something other than disdain.

Clyde, watching him closely, letting out a small smirked. He didn’t need to hear Michael’s thoughts to know exactly what was going through his mind. He had just earned the Archangel’s respect whether Michael wanted to admit it or not.

"So," Clyde said, stretching his arms behind his head, "now you get it, huh? I’m not just some lucky fool stumbling through this mess."

Michael exhaled sharply, regaining his composure.

"How?" His tone was no longer dismissive, but edged with genuine curiosity. "How did you kill him?"

Clyde leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"I didn’t just kill him, I made him kneel first." His smirk widened at the memory. "You know how arrogant those Demon Kings are. They think they’re untouchable. But when they realize they’re outmatched, they break just like anyone else."

Michael remained silent, digesting Clyde’s words.

Clyde chuckled. "Oh, come on. Don’t give me that look. I know what you’re thinking—’there’s no way this guy took down Asmodeus on his own.’ But you can believe it. You can even confirm it if you want. Go see Asmodeus now and see how he’d changed."

Michael’s fingers twitched slightly, his mind racing. If Clyde was telling the truth and he had no reason to lie about something this bold, then he was far stronger than Michael had assumed. This changed things.

After a moment, Michael folded his arms. "And now, his forces are yours?"

Clyde nodded. "More or less. I made sure they understood who their new boss was. I think Asmodeus will still the one who commanded them but he will receive the order from me. Or more accurately, from the Ancient God Itself."

Michael narrowed his eyes, considering the implications. With Clyde’s influence spreading through the Nexus of Creation and now control over Asmodeus’s forces, the balance of power in the conflict had shifted.

He had planned to build his own army slowly, using the Ancient One’s gift to stabilize his followers, but Clyde had already secured an overwhelming advantage.

For the first time, Michael saw Clyde not as an annoyance, but as an equal.

After a moment, he spoke. "Then perhaps... we have more to discuss than I initially thought."

Clyde nodded at it. Then he said. "We still need you to stay inside the Archangel circle to know what they about to do. While I will be away and hiding for now. Preparing myself for the next big thing that will happened.

Michael’s gaze darkened slightly as he crossed his arms.

"What exactly do you need to grow stronger for? You already defeated Asmodeus. How much stronger do you think you need to be?" Michael asked.

Clyde’s smirk never wavered. He leaned back against the couch, tilting his head slightly as if amused by the question.

"See, that’s the difference between you and me," he said, tapping his fingers lightly on the armrest. "You’ve been at the top for so long that you’ve forgotten what it means to chase strength. You don’t think you need to anymore."

Michael narrowed his eyes.

Clyde continued. "That’s why beings like you stagnate. You sit in your thrones, confident in your own power, never really feeling the need to push further. But us mortals?" He let out a short chuckle. "We have no choice. We don’t get the luxury of standing still. One mistake, just one, is enough to get us killed." His eyes gleamed with something sharp, something resolute. "I bet you’ve never felt that kind of pressure before, have you?"

Michael said nothing, but his fingers twitched slightly.

Deep inside, he understood what Clyde was saying. It was true that he had never once feared for his life. Not truly.

As an Archangel, he had always been among the strongest, always looking down from above. But Clyde... this mortal had fought his way up from nothing.

And he was still fighting even though had become this powerful.

Michael remained silent, but the faintest flicker of acknowledgment passed through his gaze.

Clyde took that as his cue. He stood up from the couch, stretching lazily before turning to Michael.

"Well, that’s that. I’ll be going now," Clyde said with casual tone, ending their meeting for now.

Michael exhaled sharply and reached into his robe. Without a word, he tossed a small silver ring toward Clyde.

Clyde caught it effortlessly, glancing down at it. "What’s this?"

Michael said in a calm but firm voice. "A way for us to communicate. If we’re going to work together, I need to know where you are. And if something happens, I need to be able to contact you."

Clyde twirled the ring between his fingers before slipping it onto his hand. "Not bad. Fine, I’ll keep it."

Michael nodded, then raised a hand. Light shimmered in the air, forming into a swirling portal of radiant energy.

The glow of divine power illuminated the chamber, casting shifting patterns of gold and white across the walls.

Clyde stepped toward it but paused for a brief moment, looking back at Michael with a knowing smile. "Try not to stagnate too much, Archangel. You might find yourself left behind."

With that, he walked into the portal, vanishing in a flash of light.

Michael remained standing there for a long while after, staring at where Clyde had disappeared.

He wasn’t sure if he liked him. But one thing was certain, he would need to watching him very closely.

---

Clyde stepped out of the portal and into his mansion, the cool air of the grand hall washing over him. The meeting with Michael had been... interesting. More revealing than he had expected.

He moved toward the large windows overlooking the floating landmasses of the Ruin, his gaze distant as he mulled over what he had just realized.

Back in the world of black, that strange world, had seen a figure who had done something to three others. At the time, he hadn’t been able to make sense of it. But now, after speaking to Michael, it was clear.

That figure had been him, Michael.

Clyde narrowed his eyes. What exactly had he done to those other beings? They had felt important, powerful. Had they been Archangels as well? High-ranking figures from Eden? Whatever it was, Michael had played a hand in their fates, just as Clyde had been pulling his own strings from the other side.

And now, without even knowing it, both of them had been orchestrating a slow but inevitable disruption.

The higher beings had no idea they were being manipulated—played from two opposing sides by two agents they had never even considered to be threats.

Clyde let out a quiet chuckle. The Ancient One’s planning truly ran deep.

Speaking of which...

His expression shifted slightly as he felt the presence of that god within him once more. It was different now. Before, its voice had been fragmented, distorted, as if struggling to communicate. But now...

The words came through perfectly. It sounded clear and without hesitation or stuttering.

The Ancient One was getting stronger.

Clyde exhaled slowly. That meant his own connection to it was deepening as well. The closer he got to its full power, the more influence he would wield.

Which also meant... time was running short.

His eyes glowed faintly in the dim light of the mansion as a slow smile crept across his lips. Things were about to get interesting, and he was about to see the destruction of the higher beings with his own eyes, and by his own hands.

---

Hermes moved like a streak of divine light through the realms, his power carrying him across vast expanses of space and time.

His mission had been exhausting but there was no room for rest. He had already gathered the Olympians, delivering the grave warnings of what was to come with the news that even Zeus had been agreed to that meeting.

Now, Hermes traveled beyond Olympus, venturing into the other pantheons, where corruption had taken root among their followers just the same.

In Asgard, he stood before Odin’s throne, the Allfather’s one good eye burning with cold calculation as he listened.

The gods of the North had grown wary of outsiders meddling in their affairs, but even they could not deny the signs. Ragnarok was already written in their fate, yet this was something else. Something that probably worse.

In the Egyptian Duat, Hermes met with Thoth, the keeper of wisdom. The ibis-headed god listened in silence, nodding as he etched ancient symbols into the air, contemplating the weight of Hermes’ words.

The Pharaoh gods had always held themselves above mortal struggles, but their arrogance would mean little when even the divine were being swallowed whole by the creeping darkness.

Through each realm he passed, he spoke with the deities of forgotten lands and forsaken peoples. The old gods, the young gods, those who still walked among their worshippers, and those who had long since faded into myth.

He called upon them all, ignoring their pride, their disdain, their reluctance.

Some listened. Some scoffed. But the truth was undeniable that something was coming, bigger than the petty squabbles of divinities.

By the time Hermes returned to his own domain, his body ached with exhaustion. Even a messenger god had his limits, and he had long since surpassed them.

Now he just need to rest for a while.

---