Chapter 178: Against the Lord – The Unexpected Arrival
Moonlight leaked through the vents of the ruined hall. From one of them, sharp eyes watched the chaos below.
Evan, who had arrived just before the battle began...
Just in time to see the clash between Sylen's team and the Beast Lord.
From his perch, every swing, howl, and explosion was crystal clear.
He could end it right now if he wanted to.
A single precise strike, and Sylen's head would roll before anyone even noticed.
But Arven's voice echoed in his mind.
"Not yet."
Evan sighed, whispering under his breath.
"I still don't get it. I could drop down, take out that Lord and Sylen in one strike… Why hide under concealment when no one can sense me anyway?"
Arven's tone carried quiet amusement.
"Patience, boy. What's crawling around you isn't something your eyes can see, but I can feel it—watching."
Evan frowned. "Can you not speak in riddles for once? Just say what you mean."
"Tch. Kids these days can't handle a single word of wisdom."
A pause. Then, Arven's voice turned serious.
"Tell me, do you know what power a true Lord-tier beast holds?"
Evan crossed his arms. "I've seen the higher ones. Never met a Tier Zero Lord in person."
"Then let me tell you something—what you're watching isn't a real Lord."
Evan blinked. "...You mean this thing's a fake?"
"Half-baked," Arven muttered. "A peak Lord-tier beast can crush a Pseudo Tier 1 with sheer might. This one's nowhere close. Check its title if you don't believe me."
Evan focused, and a faint overlay flashed before his eyes.
<Beyth – The Lycan Lord (Semi)>
The title wasn't crimson, but plain white. A mark for the weaker opponent.
"So he's a pretender," Evan murmured. "Then where's the real one?"
Arven chuckled softly.
"Try sensing that chill gnawing at your back. The one you can't trace. Tell me what you feel."
Evan closed his eyes. The air seemed to crawl. Something massive was nearby, yet distant—aware, but not showing itself.
"...It's watching us."
"Exactly. The real Lord. It's not gone—it's waiting. And if you drop down now, it'll vanish for good. That's why I told you to stay hidden."
"Even with concealment?"
"Yes. Even then. You may be a Monarch-grade half-step, but compared to a true Ruler-tier Lord, you're still a Predator who can kill it way too easily."
Evan exhaled, half-amused, half-offended.
"Are you praising me or calling me weak?"
"Both," Arven snorted. "Now stop whining and stay still."
Evan rolled his eyes, muttering, "Old man lectures, my favourite pastime."
Below, the battle raged on.
Flashes of silver mana clashed against darkness. Sylen's blade tore through the air, his teammates pushing forward in perfect rhythm.
Beyth's growls filled the hall—desperate, feral, cornered.
Arven's tone shifted. "Stay sharp. It's about time."
"Finally," Evan smirked, fingers brushing his sword hilt. "Been dying of boredom."
He crouched low, ready to leap.
"Stop right there," Arven warned. "I said ready, not jump. You're worse than a bloodthirsty demon on caff*ine."
Evan sighed. "Then why even tell me to get ready?"
"So you don't die drooling midair when the real monster shows up," Arven quipped dryly.
Evan ignored him, gaze fixed below.
Something didn't feel right.
Beyth was kneeling now—his body trembling, breath ragged. Silver cuts striped his chest, his throne shattered behind him.
Sylen stepped forward with a mocking grin. "What happened, pup? You looked bigger when you barked."
He kicked Beyth's side hard enough to send him crashing into the ruins of his own seat. Cheers erupted from Sylen's team as hope flared in their eyes.
"End him, Captain!"
"For the Twilight Squad!"
Sylen raised his blade, eyes blazing.
"Time to finish this."
But fate was never that kind.
The floor beneath him cracked when he was just about to cut his head.
From the ground, thick roots began to slither out—like veins awakening from deep sleep. They pulsed with life, spreading across the hall, tearing apart what remained of the stone floor.
Sylen froze. His instincts screamed.
'These roots... they're the same ones holding the walls together.'
Before he could react, every sense went blind.
His detection range was filled with static. A heavy pressure clouded everything.
"What—?" he muttered, tightening his grip. "This isn't Beyth's mana…"
Then the hall erupted.
Hundreds of roots shot upward, tearing through the walls and ceiling. The throne cracked apart. The entire front hall caved inward, swallowed by chaos.
One massive root lunged at Sylen like a battering ram.
He blocked—but the force sent him flying into the wall, the root coiling around him like a serpent.
His blade screamed with sparks as he struggled to cut free.
"Captain!" Elya rushed in, hacking at the vines. It took five minutes and a dozen strikes to finally sever them.
Sylen dropped to the ground, coughing, eyes locked ahead.
Because from the broken floor, something was forming.
Wood twisted and leaves hardened into flesh-like bark as a humanoid form rose — towering, rooted, alive.
Its eyes glowed like molten sap. Its body creaked as it straightened, each step leaving cracks in the stone.
It wasn't Beyth.
It wasn't anything they'd seen before.
It was something older.
Something that shouldn't be awake.
Sylen's voice faltered. "What… in the hell… is that…"
And high above, Evan's fingers tightened on his sword.
Arven's tone dropped to a whisper.
"Now, do you see why I told you to wait?"
Without a word, the being of vines and wood stepped forward.
Its movements were slow but deliberate, like something that had existed since the beginning of the forest itself. Every step creaked and twisted with the sound of living roots.
Beyth—once the terrifying Lord of this region—lay slumped on the remains of his shattered throne, trembling like a scolded child.
The wooden being ignored Sylen and the others entirely. They weren't even worth a glance.
A branch extended from its arm, glowing faintly with a green luminescence that everyone recognised instantly.
"Healing magic?!" one of the Twilight members gasped.
Sylen's eyes widened. "Stop him! Don't let him heal that thing!"
Several mages raised their hands—but before the spells could form, a crushing wave of power rolled out from the wooden being.
It was suffocating.
The air itself seemed to collapse.
The aura pinned everyone to the ground like an invisible mountain pressing down on their backs.
If Beyth's presence had been like standing under a waterfall, this was like being buried beneath the ocean itself.
Even Sylen, who had faced countless beasts, was forced to one knee, his sword trembling in his hand.
The very bones in his legs screamed under the pressure. He turned his head with effort and saw his team sprawled across the broken hall—shaking, gasping, unable to move.
Only a handful still knelt upright, straining against the invisible weight with sheer willpower.
'This power… It's beyond anything I've ever seen. Even Beyth looks terrified.'
And he was.
Beyth whimpered as the green light washed over him. The wounds Sylen had inflicted began to close, fur regrowing, muscles stitching back together with unnatural speed.
Despair settled over the team like frost.
Sylen's mind raced. 'I can't win this. Even my authority won't match his. I'll have to pull back with Elya and whoever's vital. The others…' His jaw tightened. 'The others are already dead if we stay.'
Before he could act, the towering being turned its head.
Its gaze—two hollow sockets burning with green light—fell upon Sylen's group, sending down shivers through the team.
Roots stirred beneath the broken tiles. Vines slithered across the floor like serpents awakening from slumber. The pressure grew heavier still.
"...I am disappointed."
The voice was deep, resonant—like wood grinding against stone. It vibrated in their chests, echoing through the hall.
"Even after all these years, you fall to such a pitiful state before these… humans." The being's tone was almost mournful. "I gave you succession, Beyth. I expected strength. Not shame."
Every head turned toward the wolf. Beyth bowed low, ears flat, his massive frame trembling.
The once-proud Lycan Lord was now no more than a frightened servant.
Sylen's breath caught. "That monster… it's talking?"
"Yes," the being said, answering without being asked. "You may call me—"
It paused, letting the silence stretch. The vines behind it writhed, the walls cracking under the surge of energy pulsing through the air.
"<Peyndral—The Nature Lord Spirit>"
The name hit like thunder.
Even Evan, watching from above, felt the mana quake ripple through the air.
Peyndral raised a hand, and the vines obeyed. They came alive—snapping free from the walls and floor like living whips, their tips glowing with faint green light.
"Now then," the being said, voice calm, almost gentle. "Let me cleanse this place."
Dozens of vines lashed toward the Twilight members.
Sylen forced himself to his feet, blood dripping from his lips. His legs screamed in pain, but his eyes burned with resolve.
He stepped forward, planting his sword in front of his team. Silver light flared to life around him—the faint, pale aura of moonlight, trembling under the crushing weight of Peyndral's mana.
He swung his blade, slicing through the first wave of vines. "You'll have to go through me first!"
'There's no choice. I'll hold him off long enough to escape with Elya. That's the only option left.'
Several mages, inspired by his stand, rose shakily to their feet and unleashed flames toward the advancing roots.
The fire struck true, engulfing the vines in a burst of light—only for Peyndral to wave his hand dismissively.
The flames vanished. The vines were untouched. Not a single burn mark remained.
It was like trying to scorch stone with candlelight.
Hopelessness spread again, thick as fog.
Up above, Evan exhaled softly. "Damn… this got serious real quick."
Arven's voice echoed in his mind. "You ready, kid?"
Evan smirked. "I've been born ready."
"Then get moving. The landing time has arrived."
"Heh. Finally."
He tightened his grip on his weapon—his favourite for chaos like this—and crouched at the edge of the broken ceiling.
Below, vines tore through the stone, and the Twilight squad braced for annihilation.
Evan grinned. "Ready or not… here I come."
He jumped.
A streak of dark energy cut through the air as he dropped from the shadows like a meteor falling from the heavens.
The battle below was about to change.
To Be Continued...
What will be the outcome of this battle with the unexpected arrival of two beings: the true Lord and Evan, who is eager to get involved?
To find out what happens next, stay tuned for the next chapter. Be sure to add it to your library for easy access to quick updates. Until then, have a great day, fellow readers!