Something’s coming from both sides?" Nero’s thoughts spun into chaos. "Both sides?!" His eyes darted to the Song Mountains, but nothing was there.
A thick forest stretched between them and the mountains, and before the first trees even began, there was a village—right in the worst possible spot.
Viser turned to Lunia, his voice tight. "Where are the other kids?
"In the village. There''s a puppet show—an old man is performing," Lunia said quickly, her words tumbling out. "It should end in about twenty minutes."
Roan said" i''ll take a look maybe some one still in the rooms
After roan enterd the orphanage
Nero clenched his jaw. "What the hell are we dealing with? Beasts? People? Both!?"
Viser exhaled sharply, his gaze flickering between the mountains and the forest. "I don’t know. But whatever’s coming… they’re strong. Stronger than anything I can fully sense. Their numbers, their speed—I can’t tell."
He took a step forward. "I’m getting the kids from the village. Hide in the orphanage. I’ll be back soo—"
Before he could move, shadows sliced through the sky. Nine human figures shot in from the southeast, flying toward the village before halting mid-air. They didn’t speak, didn’t move. Just hovered, their gazes locked on the forest to the west.
Then, the trees in the distance groaned. The ground trembled.
Something enormous was coming.
From the depths of the forest, two massive figures emerged, one after the other. Towering. Unnatural. Their hulking forms swallowed the light, their movements too smooth for something that size.
Nero felt his stomach twist. Even from this distance, it was obvious—they weren’t just any beasts.
They weren’t normal at all.
The air grew heavy. Even the wind seemed to hesitate.
Lunia’s breath hitched beside him. Unlike the rest of them, she had no idea what she was looking at. But she didn’t need to.
The ground shuddered beneath their feet.
The nine figures in the air remained still, their eyes locked on the two monstrous beasts below. At first, it seemed as if one was chasing the other—until they noticed the humans above.
The first beast was unlike anything natural. It had the sleek, predatory form of a panther, its fur pure white, crisscrossed with jagged black markings. Three long tails curled and flicked behind it, their movements unnervingly precise. Its ears resembled butterfly wings, delicate but unnatural, and its mouth was a jagged maw filled with too many teeth.
A jagged, armor-like ridge lined its back, while spines curled from its skull, twitching with eerie awareness. But the most unsettling thing wasn’t its appearance—it was how it moved. Or rather, how it didn’t.
The earth itself seemed to shift beneath its paws, carrying it forward like a ripple in reality. It glided effortlessly, untouched by gravity, the ground warping beneath it. Wherever it passed, the forest withered—trees blackened, their leaves curling and crumbling to dust, as if time itself recoiled from its presence. The very air around it felt wrong, heavy with an unseen force unraveling the world.
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The second beast was even larger, a towering mass of darkness shaped like a wolf, but something far more unnatural. Its fur dripped like liquid shadow, pooling into writhing tendrils that bled into the earth. It moved with a fluidity that defied its sheer size. Six glowing eyes burned in its skull, each moving separately, scanning in all directions at once.
At first, its gaze was locked on the panther-like creature. Then, as if sensing something more important, it slowed—its head tilting upward.
Southeast. Toward the humans.
The air grew suffocating.
The children barely dared to breathe.
The first monster had been running—but not on its own. The world itself carried it forward. The second, however, had no need for such tricks. It simply followed. Relentless. Inevitable.
Even miles away, felt it—chilling, undeniable.
The beasts and the humans had sensed them.
Just as the nine figures in the air had.
The tension in the air was suffocating. Viser’s jaw tightened, his fingers curling into fists as he calculated his options.
If they fight here… His gaze flickered to the children. The shockwaves alone could kill them.
He exhaled slowly, forcing his breath steady, but his expression only grew darker. They’re between us and the village. No one there will survive.
His eyes sharpened as he turned toward the four children beside him. His decision was clear.
He would protect them first.
Then, the unexpected happened.
The first beast—the panther—spoke. Its voice was terrifying, like glass shattering.
“Humans?”
Viser felt the children stiffen beside him. Their eyes widened, their breath caught in their throats.
"They can talk!?"
The words barely left Nemsus''s lips before Viser spoke, his voice calm but weighted.
"After any beast becomes a Sage, it gains full consciousness. The smartest among them can speak. The rest… they only gain speech when they become Sovereigns."
That answer only made their faces pale further.
"That beast is a Sage?" Nero asked, his voice unsteady.
Viser shook his head, his expression dark, fear laced with something almost bitter—mockery.
"No, Nero. They are Sovereigns."
Nero’s mind reeled. His stomach dropped. A Sovereign…?
"We’re dead… we’re fucking dead," Nemsus muttered, his eyes wide with disbelief.
The youngest of them, Lunia, turned to Viser, confusion flickering in her gaze.
"A Sovereign? What does that mean?"
This time, it was Delilah who answered, her voice tight, measured.
"Both humans and beasts follow the same ranking based on their Eny level—that sphere you have in your heart. It starts with a Mage, then an Ascendant, then a Dominus… then a Sage… then a Sovereign… and finally, a Celestial."
Nemsus swallowed hard. "The strongest humans… they''re Sovereigns too, right?"
Viser gave a slow nod. "Yes. In this era, the mightiest humans are Sovereigns."
Nemsus clenched his fists, his breath unsteady. "That means…"
Viser’s gaze darkened. "There is one in this empire... or rather, two. The current emperor, Claudius—" he hesitated, his voice dropping lower, "—and his father. Who I thought was dead. But it looks like he''s alive."
The children froze.
"What does that mean?" Nero’s voice was barely a whisper.
Viser let out a whispered curse before pointing toward the figure leading the eight others. "See that man in front? That’s the previous emperor—Gaius Julius Imperius."
Viser definitely wasn''t happy to see that man for some reason.
The name alone sent a chill through them.
Gaius Julius Imperius. The Gate of Hell.
The man who had murdered his own weak father 400 years ago and seized the throne. A bloody monarch who forged the empire from a weak kingdom into an empire through blood and war—all after becoming a Sovereign.
A legend of history—standing right before them.
"He''s still alive?" Nemsus asked, his voice tight.
Viser exhaled sharply. "I thought he was dead too. No one has heard of him in the last 30 years… but Sovereigns can live up to 800 years. So…"
A heavy silence fell over them, thick and suffocating, pressing down like an unseen weight.
Their eyes locked onto the old emperor—a figure both stark and unshakable. His silver hair, a sharp contrast against the darkening sky, gleamed even from a distance. Dressed in pristine white, he stood suspended in the air, his hands behind his back, empty yet exuding an authority that made weapons seem redundant.
He didn''t look as if he was preparing to fight. He was simply watching—calm, unbothered—as if the two rampaging monsters before him were nothing more than a passing spectacle.
Then—a roar shattered it.
The old empror moved.
The ground trembled. The air cracked.
Nero couldn’t breathe.
The sheer forc
e of their presence was suffocating.
Then—the world exploded into motion.