Beyond the Apocalypse

Vlad and Jormguandr stood in the sky above the Keny Continent with broad smiles on their faces as they surveyed the massive human force marching through the terrain below. The human armies moved in perfect coordination, their armor gleaming under the sunlight, their formations tight, and their morale high. The first ranks at the forefront were none other than the Golden Wave Legion led by Grand Marshal Anglius, along with the Royal Guard and the Shadowstrike Legion led by Major General Theodoro and the 19 Bloodline Soldiers.

These two forces—the Golden Wave Legion on one side, the Royal Guard and Shadowstrike Legion on the other—had already been elite troops and had grown even more powerful. They had faced countless battles against the Leviathans, surviving catastrophic clashes and earning massive influxes of Origin Force from their fallen foes. Through these ordeals, their battle skill and cultivation had risen dramatically. Their combined strength was so great that even beings as formidable as the Depravitas would find them hard to match. It was a monumental achievement, the product of relentless struggle and adaptation.

Following right behind this spearhead of elite warriors were twenty thousand Turkin Riders. Each rider guided a mount that was not simply sealed Mortal Tier demonic souls but the spirits of Demon Champions! It had taken a great deal of hard work for Overlord to obtain such resources, but the outcome was breathtaking. The Turkin cavalry now boasted a force capable of tearing through Leviathan formations like a blade through silk.

At the head of this Turkin force was none other than King Viserin himself, the monarch who had entrusted much of his military’s training and restructuring to Overlord’s guidance. The man’s aura now reached the peak of the High Champion Tier, and his body had already crossed the threshold of the Guardian Tier, placing him amongst the mightiest beings on Terra. He stood atop a massive three-headed dog that spewed mouths of flame from each maw, a terrifying mount that was no simple demonic soul but the spirit of an Abyssal Race High Champion!

A few hundred meters behind this frontline contingent were hundreds of thousands of warriors, all clad in dark armor and brimming with demonic energy in their eyes. Flanking this group were even more Turkin Riders. While this second coalition of cavalry could not compare with the force personally led by King Viserin, it was still a power capable of decimating millions of Leviathan drones. Their numbers, discipline, and the synergy with their mounts made them a crucial piece of the massive human host.

Behind these colossal forces, the earth seemed to rumble as massive Xaos Tanks rolled forward. These mechanical titans of the battlefield, more than eight meters tall and weighing several tons, moved at shocking speeds. On top of these battlefield behemoths stood hundreds of people covered in tattoos that throbbed with primal power. Freya stood atop the largest of all, the aura of a Viking princess radiating from her every pore.

By the side of the Viking princess were the thirty-three Lords of Horror, their white armor and fierce presence making them a nightmare for any who dared oppose them. According to Overlord’s calculations, there was no better place for human machines than beside these mechanical forces.

The eyes of everyone present—be they absolute powerhouses like Freya, powerful generals like Anglius, mighty monarchs like Viserin, or the countless soldiers that formed their armies—glowed with focus and resolve. Each understood that what would come next would be the decisive battle: the one to reach the heart of the Leviathan Race and destroy it once and for all.

Above them all, Vlad and Jormguandr felt immense satisfaction at the sight. This force was truly outstanding, the greatest mobilization humanity had ever assembled. If they managed to reach the Monsoon Continent’s heart and destroy the Leviathan Race’s obelisks, they would finally win and end this war.