Chapter 1267: Defeat

Erlius’s pupils shrank to pinpoints.

A writhing mass of black-and-white mist churned in Souta’s palm. It was twisting and rolling, manifesting something that weren’t present in reality.

The moment Erlius felt it, his chest tightened, a cold, invasive dread slithering into his bones.

"Dream power...?"

But even as he said it, he knew... no, it only resembled it.

He had touched dream power, bent it and commanded it. So he knew that it was dream power but it felt like there’s something more to it.

This... was something far more violent.

The fluctuations alone tore at his senses, dense, jagged, suffocating. It wasn’t just stronger.

It was predatory.

"Correct," Souta replied, his tone flat, almost bored. "But not quite."

No explanation followed.

His fingers shifted and the mist exploded outward.

It didn’t flow like water. It spread like a plague. The surrounding ocean shuddered as the currents collapsed, crushed into stillness. Even the energy in the area faltered, trembling... before bowing, forced into silence by an overwhelming will.

Souta’s gaze sharpened.

"Prepare yourself."

He then reached forward.

His hand pierced the boundary.

It forced its way through the thin, fragile seam between reality and dream, tearing it open without resistance. For a brief instant, something else leaked through, dream power surged out. When his hand returned, it held a fragment of stone.

A piece of stone from the dream realm.

Blood surged over it instantly. It was thick, dark, and pulsing.

It crawled like a living thing, swallowing the surface of the stone while strands of webbing coiled around it, tightening and constricting until the fragment throbbed like a captured heart on the verge of bursting.

The pressure was immense.

Souta lifted it, aiming directly at Erlius.

And then his aura roared.

The ocean convulsed. Space warped. The very fabric of the surroundings screamed as invisible force crushed down from all directions.

"I’ll show you..." Souta’s voice dropped, heavy, final, as if passing judgment itself. "...a power that exists beyond you."

The words didn’t travel. They struck.

"Rejoice."

A step forward and the surrounding erupted with immense energy.

"Because this is your first time that will witness something like this."

Light and darkness erupted from him like roots tearing through flesh, spiraling outward, devouring everything in their path. His presence surged again, higher, denser, more suffocating, until even space itself seemed to buckle under the strain.

Ohm!

Erlius’s brows drew together, his face tightening as both hands rose instinctively. Every fiber of his being screamed at him, telling him to run.

A primal warning, loud and absolute.

His instincts howled, clawing at his mind, urging him to flee, to abandon everything and escape that monstrous pressure bearing down on him.

But he didn’t move. He couldn’t.

His jaw clenched, teeth grinding as veins bulged along his arms. If he turned his back now, if he hesitated even for a heartbeat, he would die.

So instead, he chose the only path left.

He gathered everything.

Energy surged violently into his palms, compressing, and condensing his entire strength forced into a single, desperate point. The surrounding waters twisted into spirals, dragged toward him as if the ocean itself answered his call.

He would meet it head-on.

Seeing the resolve etched into Erlius’s face, Souta’s lips curled just slightly. He was amused.

In his grasp, the fragment of dream-stone pulsed.

Blood churned over its surface, thick and alive. Darkness coiled around it like a starving beast, while threads of pale light cut through it in violent flashes. The three forces clashed and fused, spinning faster and faster until the surrounding space began to tremble under the strain.

Souta flicked his finger.

BOOM!!

The ocean split open.

A violent chasm tore through the water, forced apart by sheer, overwhelming force. Pressure detonated outward, carving a path of destruction so absolute that even the currents failed to follow.

Erlius’s eyes snapped wide. He thrust both hands forward, unleashing everything he had.

[Heaven Turbulent Aqua Destruction]!!

A blinding surge of power erupted from him, roaring, violent, devouring the surrounding sea as it surged to meet the incoming strike.

And then, the collision came.

BOOM!!

Light swallowed everything. Water was erased. Land was torn apart. Space itself rippled violently, warping under the clash of two overwhelming forces. The shockwave expanded in all directions, indiscriminate and merciless, sweeping through everything in its path.

Nothing was spared.

Far in the distance, the Imperial Palace trembled.

The walls groaned. Barriers flared. The very foundation shook as the aftershock reached them like a distant, unstoppable tide.

Tasman, Kessa, and the others stood frozen, their eyes locked onto the catastrophic explosion blooming across the horizon.

"...Too powerful..." Tasman muttered, his voice low, strained.

Even from this distance, he could feel it.

That overbearing pressure and weight.

It crushed against his senses, suffocating, overwhelming.

He knew that if he stood at the center of that clash, if he faced even one of those attacks, he wouldn’t last a second.

Around him, the others on the ground trembled.

No one spoke.

They could only watch and hope.

Hope that their king would emerge victorious. Though deep down, every single one of them understood.

The odds were no longer in his favor.

Marquis Vein stood motionless amid the chaos, his face lit not by fear but by awe. His lips trembled, then parted in reverence.

"The Realm Lord... is truly powerful."

The battlefield had become unrecognizable. Water roared through the shattered terrain, swallowing earth and stone in violent surges. Chunks of debris drifted like corpses in a drowned world, while clouds of pulverized sand churned through the air, thick as smoke. Lightning-like arcs of energy lashed across the ruin, splitting the space with savage flashes.

At the center of it all, Erlius knelt.

A ragged, wet cough tore from his throat as blood spilled from his lips, splattering into the flooded ground below. His right arm was gone, ripped clean from his body, and what remained of him was a ruin of torn flesh and fractured bone. Deep gashes carved across his torso, each one leaking life with every breath he struggled to take.

And in front of him...

Souta stood, unmoving, and untouched. His form had returned to normal, yet the air around him still trembled, as if reality itself hadn’t recovered from what he had unleashed.

His cold gaze settled on the broken king.

’This man... endured that?’

Souta’s eyes narrowed slightly.

’I didn’t use my [Emperor Armor] but Douion IV was never meant to be survived. It’s enough to erase seasoned experts without leaving even ash behind.’

The power of it lingered, the convergence of power, the fusion that surpassed the very cores of Vanko and Reem. It was the force that gave birth to the Blood Realm itself.

And yet, Erlius had stood against it.

That truth alone carried weight.

Souta exhaled softly, almost amused.

’If I hadn’t prepared this battlefield beforehand... things might’ve been... inconvenient.’

Silence fell between them, heavy and suffocating, broken only by the distant roar of collapsing terrain.

Erlius lowered his head, his body trembling violently as he fought to remain conscious. Blood dripped steadily from his chin, merging with the water below.

"...I’ve... been defeated..."

Each word scraped out of him like broken glass.

Souta didn’t respond immediately. Instead, his gaze flickered something unseen passing before his eyes. A moment later, the faintest trace of a smile tugged at his lips.

Not yet.

A subtle shake of his head.

"Come."

His voice was calm, almost gentle, yet it carried an undeniable weight.

"I’ll show you... how I conquer the Depths of Banquet."

The storm around them seemed to quiet, as if the world itself was listening.

...

The Imperial City of the Bodam Kingdom was gone.

Erased.

Where towering structures once stood, there was nothing but a vast, ruined expanse drowned in churning energy and fractured earth. The heart of the kingdom had been ripped out, leaving behind only devastation.

Shockwaves of power rippled outward from the ruins, rolling across the land like an unseen tide. Nearby cities trembled under the pressure, their walls creaking, their people gripped by a suffocating sense of dread. The air itself felt unstable heavy, charged, as if it could tear apart at any moment.

Panic spread and confusion followed.

The entire kingdom descended into turmoil.

Far beyond its borders, the Tarrant Nation knew nothing.

They remained locked in their own desperate struggle, unaware that the very core of their enemy had already fallen.

At the frontier, war raged without restraint.

Tens of thousands of Bodam Kingdom experts surged forward like a relentless tide, crashing against Tarrant’s defenses again and again. The battlefield burned with violence, explosions of energy, collapsing formations, and the constant roar of clashing powers.

Hero-rank experts dominated the skies and the land alike, their battles tearing open the battlefield with every collision. Each strike carried enough force to shatter armies, yet neither side yielded.

It was a war of attrition and neither side intended to lose.

Deep within a heavily fortified stronghold, far from the chaos of the frontlines, a council gathered.

The room was sealed behind layers of protection, its walls reinforced to withstand even the aftershocks of war. Inside stood the most powerful figures of the Tarrant Nation, the Supreme Council.

They were the architects of the army. The minds directing every movement, every sacrifice.

And even they... felt the pressure.

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