Apocalypse: becoming the hidden Ruler[English]

“To follow my heart. To act according to my conscience. To do what I believe is right.” He paused, then added more quietly:

“That’s the attitude I should have from now on.” He didn’t mention the illusion at the mysterious spring. The glimpse of himself stripped bare of fear and restraint. The version of him that felt painfully honest. But that was where this realization truly began.

“Follow your heart…” Lilith repeated softly. For a moment, her gaze grew distant. She wanted that too. But unlike Axel, her chains were heavier.

Power wasn’t her problem. Responsibility was.

“Sometimes,” she said with a faint sigh, “I envy you.”

“You’re becoming freer.”

“I can’t.”

Axel shook his head. “I’m not talking about being reckless.”

“I’ll still be cautious. I just won’t let fear dictate everything.”

“I’ll approach things more openly. Less constrained.” He looked at her meaningfully. “I hope you can take off your mask one day.”

“And stand beside the people who matter to you again.”

Her heartbeat stumbled. Important people. Her teammates. Rosaline—always arguing with her, always stubborn. And the last blood relative she had left in this world.

“I hope so,” Lilith said with a small smile. “I hope that day comes soon.” She tilted her head slightly. “And to make that happen… I’ll need your help.”

Axel laughed. “That depends on the payment. My fees are very high.”

Lilith rolled her eyes. “Rosaline is so upright and righteous. How did she end up with a subordinate as mercenary, opportunistic, and scheming as you?”

After the teasing, her expression turned serious again. “Breaking through the outer blockade won’t be difficult.”

“But solving whatever crisis is waiting at Northern Spiritual Town… that’s another matter.”

Once the strategy was finalized, Lilith moved fast.

As legion commander, she pushed the plan into motion without hesitation. Axel conducted one last round of scouting and confirmed the precise weak point in the mutated beast encirclement. By linking the battlefield discovered by Lilith’s men with the direction of Northern Spiritual Town, a clear gap could be mapped out.

He recorded everything—clear visual proof. The moment Lilith received the footage, she convened a high-level meeting.

The upper echelon of the City of Sin gathered, each of them harboring their own ambitions, calculations, and escape plans. Some wanted to preserve strength. Some wanted to gamble big. Some simply didn’t want to die.

But when the video was played—and its authenticity verified—the room shifted.

This wasn’t speculation. It was a fucking opening. After brief but intense discussion, the leaders made their decision: commit resources. Launch the breakout.

With confirmation that no large beast horde was immediately tailing them, the legion mobilized at full speed. Soldiers and Awakened assembled in disciplined waves. The formation shifted—tightened—into a wedge.

A spear. And then the assault began.

Under the blessing of the Star Guide, facing a comparatively thinner stretch of the beast horde, the City of Sin Legion tore forward like a blade.

Several Level Five and Level Six Awakened took point, smashing through resistance with overwhelming force. Mutated beasts fell in swathes, their ranks ripped open before they could reorganize.

In less than half a day, the weak point collapsed completely.

The legion punched through. They had officially breached the northern blockade. A decisive victory. And at nearly the same time—

Far ahead of them.

......

Northern Spiritual Town.

On the northern wall, a man stood with his hands clasped behind his back, staring into the blizzard. Snow howled across the ramparts, but beyond the white veil, beneath the distant mountain range, countless shadows shifted. Countless tiny red glimmers. Watching. Waiting.

“Zachariah,” the man asked quietly, without turning around. “Is he still unconscious?”

“Yes.” The answer came from a man in a military overcoat standing behind him. “He’s too severely injured. His Force and mental energy are completely drained. His consciousness has sunk into deep dormancy.”

“Even with the best medical pods and concentrated Force infusion… it will likely take a week before he wakes.”

If Axel were here, he would recognize him instantly. Geoffrey of Northern Spiritual Town. But he was no longer the same man.

His presence was deeper. Heavier. Two crisscrossed scars carved across his face gave him a fierce, hardened look. Not merely scarred—but tempered. And more importantly—

He had broken through. Level Six. The founding of the new city. The brutal defensive campaigns. The constant frontline clashes. For an Awakened, life-and-death battles were the cruelest teachers—and the fastest path upward.

“A week…” the man in front murmured. He exhaled slowly. “In a week, Northern Spiritual Town may not even exist.”

Geoffrey’s expression changed sharply. A massive concentration of mutated beasts now surrounded the town. If they launched a full-scale, frenzied assault, the city might fall in three days. Three.

He dropped to one knee. “Mr. Zephyr!” His voice was steady, resolute. “All soldiers of Northern Spiritual Town’s Ministry of Defense are prepared to fight to the last man. We will defend this city to the death!”

A sigh. Zephyr did not turn. “The sudden influx of mutated beasts has already exceeded our defensive capacity.”

“Even if nearby cities dispatch elite reinforcements, it won’t be enough to hold them off.”

“If we continue to resist blindly, we will only increase casualties for nothing.”

Geoffrey’s breathing grew rough. He didn’t want to accept it. But the man before him was not merely a senior official in the Ministry of Defense. He was also a core member of the Silverwyn family.

Power. Authority. Influence. And personally—

He was one step away from Level Seven. In both status and strength, Geoffrey had no leverage to argue.

“Could it be…” Geoffrey forced the words out, unwilling but desperate. “Could it be that those few still won’t act? If they step in, they can absolutely break this encirclement and buy time for reinforcements to arrive—”

“Ignorant!” Zephyr’s voice cracked through the wind like a whip.

Geoffrey instinctively trembled.

“What do you think this is?” Zephyr snapped. “Do you have any idea how few true Level Seven Awakened Krythos actually has left?”

“The ones available now—aside from reclusive aristocratic elders—are merely those who recently broke through from peak Level Six. Their strength doesn’t even compare to the former generation of Level Seven powerhouses.”

He turned slightly, eyes cold. “And if they truly make a move… the Level Seven mutants lurking out there will strike.”

Geoffrey’s pupils shrank. “You mean—”

Zephyr sneered. “Just because you can’t detect them, you assume they’re not there?”

“General Jerome and his Krythos forces swept the region before. But you think that wiped them out completely?”

“Many escaped. Many regrouped.” He looked toward the mountains again. “They aren’t attacking yet because of two reasons.”

“First, the residual deterrence of General Jerome’s campaign.”

“Second…” His voice lowered. “They’re testing us. Testing humanity’s current strength.”

“If we don’t deploy our high-level Awakened, they’ll keep sending beasts below Level Six to probe us,” Zephyr said quietly, his gaze fixed on the snow-shrouded mountains. “But the moment they figure out the true strength of our upper-tier fighters…” He didn’t finish.

Geoffrey looked again at the sea of shadows beyond the storm—those densely packed forms shifting beneath the snow, those countless pinpoints of red light.

Cold sweat soaked through his back. If that line was crossed, it wouldn’t just be Northern Spiritual Town in danger. It would be the destruction of all Krythos.

“Therefore,” Zephyr continued, his voice hardening, “we can only stabilize. We can only retreat. We can only wait.”

“Wait for reinforcements. Wait for a miracle. Wait for General Jerome to return victorious.”

At the mention of that name, Geoffrey’s jaw tightened. General Jerome. The one man whose presence alone could still make the mutated beasts hesitate.

Geoffrey lowered his head, saying nothing.

“If it weren’t for Axel…” Zephyr suddenly added, his tone turning glacial, anger barely contained beneath it.

Geoffrey froze. “Mr. Zephyr!” he blurted. “I swear on my life—Axel is not that kind of person. There must be some misunderstanding—”

“So you’re saying Zachariah is lying?” Zephyr cut him off sharply. Zachariah was Zephyr’s favored junior. The pride of Northern Spiritual Town.