Apocalypse Gachapon

“Why has it come to this?”

Every person who leaves their homeland carries a story of hardship and sorrow.

As times progress, the tragic undertones only deepen. By the pre-apocalyptic era, such actions had transformed into symbols of struggle and perseverance, their meaning entirely altered.

The migration of Saint Light Hall could be seen as both passive and active, but ultimately, they were strangers in a strange land.

They did not belong to this blue planet.

Once, they had dreamed of putting down roots here, spreading their faith and deities to sunlit lands.

Many members of the Hall had left their camps—some victims or dissenters of internal strife, some seekers of hope, others perhaps missionaries of ideology and belief.

Little did they know, their departure made them the last survivors of their people.

The embers still glowed, but extinction had become reality.

With the Saintess’ final sacrificial act, Saint Light Hall was no more.

They had survived the destruction of their ancestral home, the Blue Secret Realm, yet failed to endure in this new world.

As the Soul Banner manifested, a large section of the Holy City was revealed—previously indistinguishable from surrounding residential areas. Even when zombies or genetic warriors had entered, nothing seemed amiss. At most, it was just… empty.

In a city this vast, an uninhabited zone during war was hardly unusual.

Yet who could have guessed? This was Saint Light Hall’s camp, housing many of their elites.

Ye Zhongming’s expression shifted slightly. Despite not actively probing, as a level-nine evolved, his failure to detect this banner was an unforgivable oversight.

Moreover, the banner’s aura was overwhelming—so much so that even Ye Zhongming, Mo Ye, and other apex existences felt a tremor.

Such instinctive dread only surfaced when life itself was threatened.

An artifact capable of killing level-nine evolved.

Death King Tree had ceased fighting.

True, when enraged, she would fight to the death—but that didn’t mean she valued her life lightly. If anything, mutant flora and fauna adhered to survival instincts more purely than evolvers ever could.

They didn’t even bother pretending otherwise.

“You’re strong. You broke three layers of my armor. Yet I endured—and now, you’ll die.”

Perhaps due to its reduced size, the Palace Giant’s voice was clearer now, its speech more coherent.

“Spare me your delusions. You’re alive only because I was the only one truly attacking earlier.”

Death King Tree reverted to human form, glancing disdainfully at the still-colossal foe.

Even she hadn’t gone all out. The moment she prepared to, that ominous banner had stolen everyone’s attention.

“Heh, no matter.”

The Palace Giant’s body began transforming—its haphazardly assembled parts fusing seamlessly, making it resemble a true stone colossus.

Cloud Peak’s level-nines didn’t interfere. The banner’s pressure was too immense; any movement risked unpredictable consequences.

Though the Saintess’ final wail still echoed, Ye Zhongming remained dispassionate.

Their original purpose here had been to settle scores with Saint Light Hall—they were never allies. Even if they had been, Cloud Peak’s interests outweighed all personal bonds.

The Cloud Peak King needed time to assess the situation.

Having already failed to detect the banner earlier, he couldn’t afford another mistake—especially with his departure imminent.

“Are you… the Holy City’s true ruler?” Ye Zhongming asked the Palace Giant.

“You could say that. Or call me Aba. That fool Ahmad was unworthy of this city—unworthy of the Earth Archmage power bestowed upon him.”

A single sentence revealed volumes.

“And your current form is…?”

“The Earth Archmage’s ultimate skill—Earth’s Sacrifice!”

The specifics remained unclear, but the name alone spoke volumes.

“Then what… is that?” Ye Zhongming pointed at the soul-chilling banner.

“That is… apologies, I can’t tell you.” Aba’s tone dripped with smugness. “Also, your people won’t escape. These stalling tactics are too transparent.”

As he spoke, the entire Holy City quaked violently—a magnitude-8 seismic event.

Buildings crumbled instantly. The once-glorious West Asian stronghold now mirrored Saint Light Hall’s fate—utter annihilation.

Mo Ye’s hair billowed as she swiftly drew five colossal talismans midair. Each unleashed elemental attacks—not at the passive yet oppressive banner, but at the Palace Giant, initiating this catastrophe.

Amid such tremors, even evolved struggled to move. Cloud Peak’s forces were temporarily trapped.

Knowing these warriors represented over 80% of Cloud Peak’s elite, Mo Ye unleashed her full power for the first time.

Death King Tree joined the assault.

Still drained from earlier, she remained humanoid, plunging hands into the earth. Beneath the surface, roots snaked frenetically, stabilizing the convulsing terrain like a living seismic network.

She didn’t understand the quakes’ purpose but knew calming them was paramount.

Talking Lady, too, acted—cradling her cat and singing.

Her melody radiated tranquility, soothing the panic-stricken Cloud Peak forces.

A top-tier psychic entity could heal as well as harm. In this crisis, clear minds meant survival.

“Impressive.” Aba remarked suddenly. “Sayyid… your turn.”

The Soul Banner stirred.