Beyond the Apocalypse

Chapter 1148: Into the Divine Realm (I)

The Eight Layers of Hell had been transformed, no longer a domain of chaos and suffering but instead a sanctuary forged through blood, sacrifice, and unyielding will. What once stood as a symbol of torment had become a refuge so fortified that neither the forces of Heaven, the Abyss, nor even the agents of the Ancient Ones could easily infiltrate it.

It was a stronghold built to endure prolonged sieges, one capable of protecting the people of the Six Sun Alliance for as long as necessary, at least until the day their greatest warriors returned from the Divine Realm.

For the moment, however, there was peace—rare, fleeting, and precious.

Vlad stood beside Freya, a soft but genuine smile resting on his face as they allowed themselves to enjoy this brief reprieve from the relentless march of war. Moments like these had become increasingly scarce, slipping through their fingers like grains of sand, and because of that, they held onto them with quiet determination, unwilling to let even a second go to waste.

As Vlad looked at Freya, his expression softened further, and he released a long, slow breath, his gaze lowering ever so slightly as he felt the faint yet undeniable presence of the life growing within her. Their two children were still unborn, fragile yet filled with potential, and that single truth stirred something deep within him—something far more powerful than any battle he had ever fought.

There was nowhere else he wished to be.

No battlefield, no conquest, no cosmic struggle could outweigh the desire to remain by her side, to witness the future they were creating together. Yet, paradoxically, it was precisely for that future that he had to leave.

If there was to be any hope for the universe, if there was to be a world in which his children could live without fear, then he needed to face what lay beyond—to confront the Primordial Gods of the Divine Realm and force them to understand that the coming war was no longer a matter of choice, but of survival.

Their eyes met, and in that silent exchange, countless emotions passed between them—love, determination, fear, and an unshakable trust that neither of them dared to voice aloud. Then, without hesitation, they stepped forward and embraced, holding onto each other just long enough to anchor themselves before the inevitable separation.

When they parted, Vlad did not look back.

In a single instant, his figure vanished, reappearing high above the Seventh Layer of Hell, where Odinvaldr stood waiting. The Primordial God of Bloodshed and Battle remained motionless, his presence alone radiating an authority so profound that it seemed as though the very concept of war itself bowed before him.

One by one, the others arrived.

Overlord appeared first, his newly ascended Paragon aura pulsing with restrained power, followed closely by the White Death, whose mastery over gravity and entropy had reached a terrifying level.

Then came the remaining True Depravitas—Jormungandr, Ouroboros, and Fafnir—each radiating a power that could no longer be ignored.

Although many tended to overlook them due to their usual role within Vlad’s ultimate form, such underestimation would have been a fatal mistake. Even before reaching the Lord Rank, they had already demonstrated the ability to contend with Demon and Devil Lords, and after their evolution, their strength had grown exponentially.

In truth, each of them now surpassed Sovereigns like Merlin or Brightkin, and when combined with their immortal bodies, they became some of the most reliable and resilient forces the Six Sun Alliance could deploy.

The five True Depravitas glared at each other, and solemn expressions appeared in their faces as they nodded to each other. They understood that the incoming fights would be different from the ones they had been getting used to.

Due to the rules and codes that bind Primordial Gods, Odinvaldr could not reveal much about what type of challenge awaited them in the Divine Realm, but he made it clear that the fusion of their souls would not be permitted, a restriction that immediately altered the dynamics of their power.

While the True Depravitas had long relied on unity as their greatest strength, the trials awaiting them would demand individuality, forcing each of them to stand alone against whatever challenges lay beyond.

For Vlad particularly, this was a significant shift, as his ultimate form had been a cornerstone of his combat ability during the saga of Hell. Now, stripped of that advantage, he would have to rely solely on his own strength.

After assessing the group, Odinvaldr noted that one member was missing.

"Although my power is limited, I inform you all that I could bring seven of you with me to the DIivne Realm."

"Our last representative is coming, Primordial God." The White Death calmly reassured him, and moments later, a beam of radiant light descended from above.

From within it emerged Altharion.

Though he was not the most powerful among the Lords, his presence carried a unique significance. As a hybrid of human and god, his very existence bridged two fundamentally different realms of power, granting him an adaptability that few could match.

In a place like the Divine Realm, such a trait was invaluable, and it was for that reason that he had been chosen.

Odinvaldr acknowledged him with a nod, and with all seven now present, the time for departure had come.

Raising his hands, the Primordial God unleashed the full extent of his power, causing the Laws of the universe themselves to tremble as they bent under his will. Threads of cosmic energy spread outward in intricate patterns, weaving together into a massive cocoon that encased the group, its radiant glow illuminating the skies and casting a sense of awe across the entire Seventh Layer.

Below, Freya and countless others watched in silence, their eyes filled not with fear, but with unwavering faith. They knew the weight of what was happening, understood the dangers that lay ahead, and yet, not a single doubt lingered in their hearts. The warriors departing were not ordinary beings; they were legends, individuals who had defied death time and time again in pursuit of a future worth protecting.

And they would succeed.

That belief burned brightly within every soul that remained behind.

Yet alongside that faith came responsibility, a silent understanding that those who stayed could not afford complacency. While large-scale campaigns might be halted for the time being, the work of strengthening their forces, maintaining control over their territories, and preparing for the battles to come could not be neglected.

Every moment mattered.

They would train relentlessly, pushing themselves beyond their limits, ensuring that when their leaders returned, they would be ready to stand beside them once more. And when that day came, when the warriors of the Six Sun Alliance marched again, they would do so with a power so overwhelming that even Heaven itself would tremble before them.