Chapter 1418: The Fused King
Deep within the Impassable Mountain Range, in the mountainous reaches of Hermes.
The shadow of the Deity of Gods had reached the plateau’s edge. Below it, Red Mist poured down the mountain faces in continuous curtains, bridging east to west until the entire range was underlined in red — a supply line that permitted the army at the continent’s spine to pour endlessly into the Four Kingdoms without restriction.
Everything had proceeded within Mask’s calculations. Everything, except one.
The humans had not stopped attacking. But neither had they succeeded in halting the Deity of Gods. What followed was a war of attrition, and in a war of attrition the demons held the structural advantage: numbers, and the technology to multiply them. Even the Inferior Demons, long considered battlefield refuse, had been engineered into serviceable weapons. The gap between the races widened with each cycle. Humans required more than ten years to raise a soldier from birth; Inferior Demons required two, and reproduced without the complication of courtship. Time worked against humanity in every dimension that could be measured.
The unconventional techniques the humans possessed — he did not dismiss them. But technique could not repair the fundamental arithmetic of a species. As the losses accumulated, the collapse was only a matter of when.
One deviation remained. One thing that had not proceeded as calculated.
“I want to know exactly what happened.” Nassaupelle stood at the base of the Deity of Gods’ observatory and let his voice carry to every subordinate in the room. “I want it explained.”
All of them glanced at each other and looked down. No one spoke.
He was not in the habit of asking rhetorical questions — that was a weakness particular to Blood Conqueror and Resentful Heart, tools of emotion rather than cognition. The situation required no narration: large numbers of demonic beasts had materialized on the Hermes Plateau and were fighting the Symbiotic Demons. Worse — some of the Symbiotic Demons designated for dispersal through the Four Kingdoms, the long attrition campaign against humanity, had been intercepted by these demonic beasts at key choke points. Abandoned human mountain passes, once held by the old Church and now under demon control, were filling with the creatures. If that were the extent of it, he could have managed the disruption.
But among the demonic beasts, he had seen a Sky-sea Realm Nest.
That was the reason he had lost his composure.
The demon race understood demonic beasts in a way humans did not. Every Months of Demons, when magic power peaked and the Nests scattered their spores on wind and sea, ordinary wildlife underwent transformation into grotesque, bloodthirsty hybrids — useful as a harvest field for the Sky-sea Realm, worthless as a fighting force. The demonic beasts were always understood as a peripheral nuisance; the true Sky-sea Realm maintained its distance from the continent, content to aggravate the demons from the margins while expending no real strength.
But a Nest was not peripheral. A Nest was a mid-tier entity, something the Sky-sea Realm would not casually sacrifice, and Nests were built for the sea — clumsy and exposed on land. For one to appear on the Fertile Plains was not an inconvenience. It was a rupture.
Over eight hundred years of slow conquest, the demon race had consumed more than half the Land of Dawn and used the ocean at their back as a natural shield against attack from the rear. That geographic logic had held since before Nassaupelle had been relevant enough to appreciate it. The appearance of a Nest in the continent’s interior overturned the logic entirely.
Either someone had failed in a duty he could not have failed, or something catastrophic had occurred in the demon rear.
Most of his subordinates suspected the same thing. None of them were willing to say it.
Ever since the King had fallen silent — that sudden, disquieting loss of contact from the Blackstone region — an unease had taken root in Nassaupelle that he had not permitted himself to name. He and Silent Disaster had agreed not to disclose the communications failure, to prevent a collapse in morale.
“Lord Mask.” A higher ascendant stepped into the observatory. “The Birth Tower carries a message. The King has summoned you.”
“What?” He turned. “You’re certain it’s the King?”
The ascendant looked briefly startled. “The Realm of Mind undulation originates from the Presiding Holy Sea, my lord. Is something wrong?”
“No. I’m going immediately.”
He kept his face neutral. In silence, he climbed to the top of the spire, focused, and responded to the powerful undulation reaching him through the Realm of Mind.
This is genuinely from the Presiding Holy Sea. Though there was something different about it — a quality he couldn’t isolate, some shift in texture he lacked the precision to name.
“It is an honor to be summoned by Your Majesty.” Nassaupelle began in his customary register. “I confess your humble servant has been anxious without your guidance. The Sky Lord’s whereabouts remain unknown, but the Symbiotic Demons have held the Western Front well, and—”
“Enough.” The King’s voice ended him. “I know you have much to say. None of it matters. We have lost Blackstone.”
Nassaupelle forgot every sentence he had arranged. He stood in the Realm of Mind and repeated the words back, needing to hear them come from his own mind before they would become real. “Blackstone… has been lost?”
“The Sky-sea Realm has not yet completed its invasion. But it is only a question of time. Our perimeter — already weak — has been entirely destroyed. Resentful Heart died in battle.” No inflection accompanied this. The King might have been noting a change in weather. “I have ordered the abandonment of the Blackstone region. The race will retreat to the Land of Dawn.”
“I beg Your Majesty to reconsider.” Nassaupelle heard himself respond before the reasoning had fully assembled. He forced the arguments out in sequence: a migration of over a hundred million — tens of millions of the higher demons, even excluding the Inferior Demons. The Red Mist problem alone was catastrophic. How many could survive the crossing? Not one in ten. And the Land of Dawn, with the Sky-sea Realm now pressing from behind, would require a position deep in the interior — but what strongholds existed? If they’d had the capacity to hold the Fertile Plains, they would never have needed Taquila in the first place.
“Sacrifice is inevitable. It is the only viable path.” The King’s tone was not unkind. It was something worse than unkind — it was indifferent. “The Red Mist problem is solved. Upon retreat, the old Birth Tower can be relocated. We tested this at the ridge of the continent. Starfall City, Arrieta, Taquila, Hermes — every God’s Stone mine in human territory can sustain breeding operations.”
“But moving so many Birth Towers simultaneously — even with the full power of the race behind it—” Nassaupelle paused. The conclusion arrived before he invited it. “Could it be that you have already—”
“Yes. I have merged with a magic core and transformed the City into a new Deity of Gods.”
A cold shiver moved down Nassaupelle’s back.
Merger with a fixed object was permanent. The King had made himself immovable — an overseer fused into the Birth Tower like a stone set in mortar, never again to move under his own will. The cold logic of it allowed no self-exception. And somehow that was the part that reached Nassaupelle most deeply: that the King’s ruthlessness had turned inward at the end, that there was no category of sacrifice he’d been unwilling to make.
The loss of communication was explained. The transformation must have severed the connection temporarily.
But what the King had said was also correct on every logistical count. A Deity of Gods had the power to relocate Birth Towers within itself; the need for fixed strongholds to distribute Red Mist was eliminated. The migration became viable in ways it hadn’t been before the transformation.
One problem remained.
He was thinking it when the King confirmed it.
“The race no longer has time for a protracted campaign against the humans. We need their legacy shard. We need to obtain it quickly — it is the only path toward any real resistance against the current state of the Sky-sea Realm.”
To destroy humanity in the shortest possible time. Without extended campaigning. Without years of attrition that the race could no longer afford.
There was only one approach that satisfied those constraints. Nassaupelle knew it the way he knew his own ability — because the approach had been his idea, proposed and filed and never expected to be authorized. He had thought of it as a theoretical exercise.
“I order the transition to phase two of the migration,” the King announced.
It would mean earth-shattering destruction. Total and rapid. The kind of event that left nothing resembling what had stood before.
The excitement that moved through Nassaupelle surprised him with its intensity.
“As you wish, my King.”
Chapter 1418 - The Fused King
Translator: Henyee Translations Editor: Henyee Translations
Deep within the Impassable Mountain Range, at the mountainous area of Hermes.
The gigantic shadow cast by the Deity of Gods had touched upon the edge of the plateau, with Red Mist pouring down the mountains and connecting the east to west, turning the mountain range into a magnificent red line. With this supply line, the army from the ridge of the continent could pour straight into the Four Kingdoms endlessly without suffering any restriction.
Everything was within Mask’s calculations—
Although the humans never ceased in their attacks, they failed in stopping the Deity of Gods from moving forward. The following battles became a war of attrition; the demons held the advantage in numbers. Furthermore, with his technology made their numbers even more massive. Even Inferior Demons which were useless in the past were strengthened to become war weapons. The disparity between the two races widened.
The humans indeed possessed unconventional techniques, but that did not remove the disadvantage that was fundamental to their race—the former required more than ten years to reach maturity from birth, while Inferior Demons only required a short time span of two years, and there was no need for them to go through the trouble of choosing a spouse to mate. As the injuries and deaths accumulated, humanity would eventually crumble.
That’s right, the development did not deviate from his expectations—except for one.
“I want to know what exactly happened?” He stood in the observatory at the bottom of the Deity of Gods and roared at his subordinates.
All of them glanced at each other and lowered their heads. No one dared to utter a word.
Nassaupelle was not one to ask rhetorical questions because they were merely means to vent emotions and a waste of time. Only inferior beings like Blood Conqueror or Resentful Heart were fond of doing so. One only needed to see to know what happened—a large number of demonic beasts suddenly appeared on the Hermes Plateau and fought against the Symbiotic Demons. But some of the Symbiotic Demons that were meant to spread throughout the Four Kingdoms and slowly exhaust humanity were stopped by demonic beasts!
They converged in from various choke points around the plateau and into the abandoned cities. The mountain pass that might had been a fort used by the humans to repel the demonic beasts in the past, but it was under the control of the demons as well.
If that was all, it would have been fine.
Nassaupelle saw the Sky-sea Realm ‘Nest’ amongst the demonic beasts.
This was the reason for his loss of composure.
Unlike the humans, the demon race was aware of the demonic beasts, a branch of the Sky-sea Realm monsters, similar to that of the Inferior Demons of the demon race. At every Months of Demons when magic power becomes abundant, the ‘Nest’ unleashed a large amount of spores that scattered through the ocean and wind, infecting ordinary wild beasts and transforming them into various grotesque monsters that underwent mutation and bloodfests.
These demonic beasts were weak in terms of combat ability and were of no threat to the race. Even the Sky-sea Realm treated them as ‘harvest fields’ to collect desirable traits and never saw the demonic beasts as their main fighting force. From another point of view, the Sky-sea Realm also had little control over the continent and, aside from inconveniencing the demons through such methods, it was difficult for them to dabble with matters in the continent.
But the ‘Nest’ was different.
It was a middle-tier being from the Sky-sea Realm and was a target the race would not easily abandon. Furthermore, the ‘Nest’ was extremely difficult to fight against in the sea but extremely clumsy on land. It was strange for the ‘Nest’ to have been sighted on the Fertile Plains.
Over the past 800 years, the demon race had gradually swallowed more than half the Land of Dawn and relied on the geographical terrain of having the ocean to one side as a form of natural barrier to prevent the Sky-sea Realm from attacking from the rear. The convergence of so many demonic beasts in the inner parts of the continent was understandable, but the appearance of a ‘Nest’ completely overturned the situation.
Either the some idiot had neglected his duty and allowed the Sky-sea Realm to infiltrate, or something bad must happened in their rear!
The majority of his subordinates thought that way, but did not dare say a word.
After the sudden loss of contact with the King, an exceedingly sense of unease had taken root in Nassaupelle’s heart.
“Lord Mask.” A higher ascendant suddenly walked into the observatory. “The Birth Tower sends a message. The King has summoned you!”
“What?” Nassaupelle turned abruptly. “Are you sure its the King?”
The other party was startled by the question. “From the undulation of the Realm of Mind, it comes from the Presiding Holy Sea… My lord, could there be a problem?”
“No, I’ll go right now,” Nassaupelle reined in his emotions and replied indifferently. Silent Disaster and him both agreed that it was inappropriate to divulge the matter of having lost communication with the Blackstone region in order to prevent a drop in morale.
At the end of the day, it was still the ‘Nest’ that broke his tempo.
After reaching the top of the spire, Mask focused and responded to the powerful undulations.
This is truly from the Presiding Holy Sea… Just that, it’s slightly different from before. It was a pity that with Nassaupelle’s standards, he was unable to pinpoint the specific difference.
“It is an honor to be summoned by you, my respected King! What exactly happened before?” Nassaupelle immediately went into his customary grumbles. “In the days without your guidance, your humble servant remained anxious and uneasy. The Sky Lord’s whereabouts are currently unknown, but fortunately, the Symbiotic Demons have performed well at the Western Front…”
“Enough.” The King immediately interrupted him. “I know you have much to say, but that is not important. We have lost Blackstone.”
Nassaupelle immediately forgot about flaunting his accomplishments and remained stunned for a while before repeating in disbelief. “Blackstone… has been lost?”
“Although we have not been invaded completely by the Sky-sea Realm, it was only a matter of time. Our enemy has become completely different from before and this resulted in the complete destruction of our already weak perimeter. Resentful Heart died in battle.” The King remained indifferent, as though speaking about the fate of the race had nothing to do with him. “I have already given the orders to abandon Blackstone region and to retreat to the Land of Dawn.”
“I beg Your Majesty to reconsider!” Nassaupelle replied anxiously, The King was talking about a migration of a population numbering over a hundred million. Excluding the Inferior Demons, there were still at least tens of millions. Their predicament of having insufficient Red Mist was already a problem, so how many of them could survive the trip to the Land of Dawn? Not even ten percent! And with the Sky-sea Realm attacking the Land of Dawn, they could only gain a footing by hiding deep within the continent, but how many strongholds could they have in the Fertile Plains for the race? If they had the ability, they would never have tried to occupy Taquila!
“Sacrifice is inevitable, but it is the only viable solution now,” The King answered. “The Red Mist will not be a problem. Upon retreat, the old Birth Tower can be transferred—this has been tested at the ridge of the continent, and Starfall City, Arrieta, Taquila, Hermes… all of these God’s Stone mines in human lands can be used for breeding.”
“But the simultaneous movement of so many Birth Towers, even with the power of the entire race behind it—” Nassaupelle paused for a second. “Could it be, that you—”
“That is right, I have merged with a magic core and transformed the City into a new Deity of Gods.”
Mask felt a cold shiver travel down his back—the merger with a dead object signified the King’s permanent fixture on the Birth Tower like an ‘overseer’… The King’s cold logic showed no mercy to himself, and this injected fear into Nassaupelle’s heart.
The loss of communication must be because of his transformation.
But it was just as he had said, all the logistical issues could be easily solved. With the power of the Deity of Gods, moving a few Birth Towers within it was was feasible, it also replaced the need for a stronghold to release Red Mist and reduce the wear and tear from the migration.
The last problem remained in the humans.
The moment he had that thought, he gained the King’s confirmation.
“The race no longer has the time to waste on the humans. We need to obtain their legacy shard as quickly as possible to have a chance at fighting the current Sky-sea Realm.”
By sparing no expense, there was only one way to destroy the humans in the shortest possible time.
“I order you to transit into phase two of the migration,” the King announced.
Nassaupelle immediately felt excited.
In truth, phase two had been his idea. He had never thought that it would come into fruition.
It definitely led to earth-shattering destruction!
“As you wish, my King!”