Multiversal Ascension

With such a strict selection process, discipline was ingrained into the Adamant Guards at an almost fanatical level. That was why, when Mikael and his group arrived at the general quarters and found no trace of the two armies that were supposed to be awaiting them, they were caught off guard.

Lyra’s gaze swept across the courtyard. Aside from the guards stationed at the entrance and a few Adamant Guards going about their duties, there was no sign of the forces they had expected to find. She frowned. “Where are they?”

Mikael had the same question in mind. His sharp eyes scanned the surroundings, but instead of answers, he found something else—Amelia, her expression dark, a grim look clouding her face. Sensing something was wrong, he turned to her. “Amelia, do you know what’s going on?”

Her emerald eyes met his. “I can’t say for sure, but it’s likely some nobles are trying to make things difficult for us. Yesterday, during the meeting, some of them seemed intent on delaying our attack…” she said, her voice carrying a tinge of restrained fury.

Before she could elaborate, Kiara suddenly spoke up. “I’m certain it’s the nobles,” she declared, walking back toward the group. Behind her, one of the Adamant Guards stationed at the entrance stood frozen, his face sickly pale, his hands trembling. The sheer terror in his eyes as he looked at Kiara raised an unspoken question—just what had she done to extract information from him so quickly when the others weren’t looking?

"Those bastards! I knew it!" Amelia cursed, her expression darkening as anger flared in her emerald eyes. Self-serving nobles, prioritizing their own interests over the countless lives at stake—it was infuriating. Their blatant disregard for the suffering of others reminded her too much of a certain fanatical cult from Dirarnia.

And as she dwelled on it, memories of the Obsidian Covenant and Nexoria resurfaced—the destruction, the despair, the irreplaceable losses she had suffered. Her fury intensified.

Her fists clenched tightly. The hatred she harbored for the Covenant and Nexoria was now spilling over onto these nobles. To her, they were no different—ruthless, selfish, and utterly indifferent to the suffering of others, as if human lives were nothing more than disposable pawns in their schemes. If she ever found those responsible for this delay, they would come to regret standing in her way.

“Where are they?” she demanded, her voice thick with fury.

The other three glanced at one another, none of them able to provide an answer.

But the silence was broken—not by the people she expected, but by a voice unlike any other.

It was a melodic sound, impossibly pure, echoing with an air of divinity and majesty. It did not simply cut through the air—it commanded it.