The Evolution Of A Goblin To The Peak

Chapter 1292: Upper Seats

Franklin was the only person here to have reached the Seventh Shackle Realm with Ten Enhancements.

It was an extraordinary feat, one so difficult that no one else in the entire Depths of Banquet had ever accomplished it.

It was even said that his combat power already rivaled that of an Eighth Shackle Realm expert.

“Ten Enhancements… I wonder if I can achieve it.”

Angus clenched his fists tightly.

He had only recently broken through to the Seventh Shackle Realm and was currently at the First Enhancement. It would be a long time before he could reach the higher enhancements.

Soon, more people began to arrive.

One after another, figures appeared and took their seats.

Each of them radiated an aura far more powerful than his own.

Every person present had reached at least the Seventh Shackle Realm.

Angus looked around and realized that many of the faces were unfamiliar.

He barely recognized anyone gathered here.

On the opposite side of the hall, Sers and Nostior sat beside one another.

Both were Eighth Shackle Realm experts, so their seats were located in the front row. Their strength was also comparable, although Sers possessed the legendary dream power because he had joined the Blood Realm earlier than Nostior.

Five days had passed since the turmoil in the Depths of Banquet.

The Tarrant Nation, the Bodam Kingdom, and the Creasant Republic had all fallen under the rule of the Blood Realm.

The influx of experts from those three nations had reshaped the balance of power within the Blood Realm.

Although the Blood Realm was a single faction, smaller groups had naturally begun to form.

Take Sers, Nostior, and Rancur, for example.

All three hailed from the Tarrant Nation, so it was only natural for them to stay together rather than associate more closely with others in the Blood Realm.

There was also the matter of the Seats.

For those who lacked exceptional natural talent, a Seat was of immense importance.

It allowed its holder to borrow the power of the [Nightmare Mask] and establish a connection with the core of the Blood Realm.

Through that connection, they could wield the power of dreams and make it their own. When they make it their own, even if the connection to the cores were cut they would still possess dream power.

Of course, not everyone could obtain dream power.

The [Nightmare Mask] merely granted them the opportunity to acquire it.

“The Tarrant Nation has lost more than half of its strength,” Nostior said.

He could still vividly remember the battle five days ago that had destroyed several cities and claimed the lives of countless experts.

The higher-ups who refused to surrender had all been killed.

Not a single one managed to escape.

Sers glanced at his friend and said, “Don’t dwell on it. The Tarrant Nation will rise again. Even if our nation had surrendered from the beginning, the outcome would have been much the same. The only real difference is that there would now be someone above the Supreme Council.”

They would still govern their nation, and Souta would not actively interfere in its internal affairs. He would leave its administration to them, just as he had done with the Everlasting Kingdom.

King Tasman still ruled his kingdom, while gaining access to the Blood Realm’s resources to strengthen his people and give them opportunities to obtain dream power.

The price, however, was that they could no longer remain neutral if Souta waged war against another force.

They were obligated to fight in his campaigns.

They were like soldiers who would follow him into battle and never retreat unless Souta himself commanded it.

It was a heavy price to pay.

But every opportunity came with a cost.

In exchange, they gained access to the rare power of dreams and the countless resources found only within the Dream Realm.

Nostior nodded at Sers before glancing toward the King of the Bodam Kingdom.

“Look at the Bodam Kingdom. Most of their higher-ups are still alive. The only major loss they suffered was the destruction of their capital,” he said.

Sers also turned his gaze toward King Erlius.

Souta’s method of conquering the Bodam Kingdom had been different. As a result, most of the kingdom’s higher-ups had survived, with only a handful perishing during the campaign.

What was truly horrifying, however, was what had happened to the Creasant Republic.

Everyone who heard about it couldn’t help but shudder.

It was said that the Realm Lord had personally descended upon the Creasant Republic and fought the entire nation alone.

He slew every one of its top-tier experts, leaving behind only a handful of survivors. With the deaths of the republic’s strongest leaders, there was no one left capable of governing the nation. Anyone with sufficient strength could seize control.

The ordinary citizens had no say in the matter.

They were like ants.

Even if they resisted, there was nothing they could do.

It was better to remain silent and accept the new order.

At least then, they could preserve their lives.

The massacre of the Creasant Republic’s top-tier experts silenced nearly all dissent within both the Tarrant Nation and the Bodam Kingdom.

If the Realm Lord could destroy the Creasant Republic single-handedly, then he could just as easily do the same to their nations.

Erlius noticed the glances from Sers and Nostior.

He snorted in disdain, clearly looking down on the two men who had surrendered without a fight.

At the very least, he, the King of the Bodam Kingdom, had fought with everything he had before ultimately surrendering to Souta.

Although they had all surrendered in the end, Erlius believed he was different from those cowards.

In his eyes, they should have struggled until the very end before accepting their fate.

On the other side of the hall, among the representatives of the former Creasant Republic, an Intermediate Fifth Stage Sea Goblin sat calmly in his seat.

He was the strongest surviving expert of the Creasant Republic.

His Fifth Stage evolution was known as the Aqua Revenant Hob, an exceptionally rare evolution of the Sea Goblin race that possessed tremendous power.

Among all the Sea Goblin evolution paths, the Aqua Revenant Hob ranked among the strongest.

He was Goktobas, the Chief of the Sea Goblin Tribe of the former Creasant Republic.

Goktobas had survived for one reason alone.

He was a goblin.

As a monster, he could not disobey the command of an Emperor. The moment he sensed Souta’s intent, he withdrew before the battle had even begun.

Goktobas swept his gaze across the entire hall.

No matter how many times he looked at it, the place never failed to amaze him.

The Eternal Blood Space…

A dreamscape created by the Emperor himself.

To think that the Emperor possessed such authority over the Dream Realm.

He had never expected it.

Not even in his wildest dreams had he imagined he would one day stand in a place like this.

The Blood Realm stretched across an enormous expanse of land.

Suddenly,

Ohm!!

The air trembled as an overwhelming aura swept across the entire Eternal Blood Space.

Angus, Tasman, and everyone else looked up.

The true powerhouses had arrived.

The Blood Saints were here.

Swoosh!!

A humanoid creature descended from above.

Its skin was rough and brown, it possessed two pairs of arms, and three pairs of eyes radiating immense dream power.

It was Nightmare Conjurer.

He hovered silently in the air before descending onto one of the upper seats.

After finding his assigned throne, he sat down calmly and closed his eyes.

Many of those seated below couldn’t help but glance at him.

This was an Advanced Fifth Stage Monster whose dream power was notoriously difficult to resist.

During the battle five days ago, he had single-handedly exterminated the entire family of one of the Supreme Council Elders.

His dream power had forced every one of them into an endless nightmare from which they never awoke.

Even the Supreme Council Elder, a Peak Divine Eighth Shackle Realm expert, had ultimately perished.

Nightmare Conjurer was a terrifying Advanced Fifth Stage Monster.

One of the Upper Seats, the Blood Saint Nightmare Conjurer.

Most of the people were observing him, some had a slight fear in their hearts while others only had awe.

Then,

Swoosh!!

The figure of an old man appeared in the air.

He radiated a powerful aura, his mana far surpassing that of every expert seated below. His expression remained calm as he descended onto one of the upper seats.

The moment Sers and the others from the Tarrant Nation saw him, they were stunned.

They all recognized the old man.

He was the former King of the Bodam Kingdom, the Tyrant King, Daroias Vectus Bodam.

A Ninth Shackle Realm expert, he had long served as the pillar of the Bodam royal family.

“So that old man is still alive…”

“I thought he still hadn’t recovered from the injuries Freida inflicted on him.”

Sers and Nostior spoke in hushed voices.

Daroias took his seat without acknowledging anyone, including the experts from the Bodam Kingdom.

Even Erlius did not greet his father, knowing that this was not the time for conversation. Instead, Daroias merely glanced at Nightmare Conjurer, who was seated on another upper throne.

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