Chapter 125: Escaping

"The Eternal Empire is about to make their move," Hierarch Malakor said, gazing at the lightning gathering around Duke Regulus.

"Breaking that Crystal Palace will not be easy," one of the Cult Exarchs said. "Furthermore, the Ancestral may very well reside within."

"If that is the case, we have a chance to claim total victory," Malakor’s eyes hardened. "If we can leave Crown Prince Aurelius dead in this tomb... even better!"

No sooner had he spoken than the doors, shrouded in residual lightning, creaked open slightly.

A vast voice echoed from within:

"Who dares disturb my slumber?"*

"Hmm?" Duke Regulus frowned, suspicion flickering in his eyes.

He knew this tomb was tied to the ancient Devourer Cult.

Could the ancient truly be alive inside?

"After countless years of slumber, you have roused me. For this, you shall remain here... forever lost in the Abyss of Dreams."

Amidst a sigh that seemed to drift from the countless luminous Dream-Weaver moths poured from the Crystal Palace.

They transformed into a dazzling river that swiftly flooded the vast cavern.

In an instant, the boundary between reality and dreams blurred.

The Praetorian Guards and Cultists alike began to stare blankly, their minds clouded.

Kael’s mouth hung open, drool slipping from his lips.

"Hmph! Cheap parlor tricks!"

*BOOM—!*

The thunder of punishment rolled across the cavern.

A bolt of lightning streaked through the air, instantly incinerating swathes of the dream-moths.

The dreamscape fractured like glass.

"The Dream-Path is dead!" Duke Regulus roared. "Let us see how long your illusions last against the Wrath of Heaven!"

The cavern seemed to lose all color.

Then, from within the river of surviving moths, a colossal figure emerged, flanked by oppressive, divine auras.

"The Ancestral... It is Somnus! The Nightmares has truly awakened!"

The Cultists fell to their knees.

The legacy of the Dream-Path had vanished from the Empire for millennia. Yet now, the power to command nightmares had resurfaced. W

ho else could it be but their deity?

"All hail the return of the Ancestral!"

The Cultists prostrated themselves in fervent worship.

They were bloodthirsty murderers, but their depravity only fueled their devotion.

*BOOM—!*

Duke Regulus unleashed a torrent of lightning.

The divine thunder twisted under the influence of the dreamscape, appearing slightly distorted, but its lethal power remained undeniable.

The voice whispered into the minds of the Cultists:

"Do you wish to ascend to the Divine Realm?"*

"We do!" Malakor roared.

"Then prove yourselves. Destroy the imperial dogs."

"For the Ancestral!"

Brimming with feverish fervor, the Cultists threw themselves into battle without fear.

The two Cult Exarchs unleashed their full might, colliding with Duke Regulus.

"Protect His Highness!" the Praetorian Commander bellowed, clashing with Malakor.

Fierce shockwaves ravaged the underground palace.

The Sanctum, already rootless after Liana absorbed the Genesis Sphere, began to tear itself apart under the onslaught of Exarch-level combat.

Amidst the fray, Crown Prince Aurelius pressed his advantage, golden Aquilas formed of Imperial Intent coiling around his arms.

He was poised to deliver a crushing blow to a Cultist when his dual-pupiled eyes narrowed.

Not far away, a figure was sneaking out through the cracked doors of the Crystal Palace, clearly trying to slip away unnoticed in the chaos.

*Him?*

That commoner... the Abyssal Sword Sovereign?

Aurelius noted the Sovereign’s aura felt strangely weak.

Suddenly, a flicker of divine light accidentally leaked from the Sovereign’s robes.

"Run!" The Sovereign paled and bolted, his figure blurring as he fled toward the palace exit.

Aurelius abandoned his fight.

The golden Aquilas roared as he gave chase.

"You dare steal the Imperial Relic?! Die!"

"Huh?" Malakor, barely holding his ground in the chaos, was stunned by the Prince’s sudden disengagement.

Then he spotted the fleeing Sovereign too.

"Hierarch! That thief just stole the relic!" Kael shouted.

"After him!"

The Hierarch led his surviving followers in hot pursuit.

Only the two Cult Exarchs remained, locked in a duel with Duke Regulus.

But something felt incredibly wrong to the Exarchs...

Why was the pressure from the Duke mounting?

Put simply, their Ancestral was slacking... the attacks were all flash and zero substance...

...

"Whew, my dream illusion will not last much longer. Let us move."

"Agreed. My Shadow-Clone will be caught soon as well."

Inside the shadows of the Crystal Palace, Theo and Pontifex Valerius exchanged glances.

Inwardly, they both thought: *This person really knows how to sell a scam.*

Truth be told, this entire operation had been Theo’s brilliant plan...

The divine light leaking from the fleeing "Theo" was a mirage generated by an expensive artifact. The clone would inevitably be destroyed, and the pearl lost forever.

Theo’s heart bled for his wallet, but he pushed the financial grief aside.

"Let us get out of here," Theo muttered.

The Pontifex nodded, summoning thousands of moths with a wave of her sleeve.

The true forms of Theo, Liana, and Sylvia dissolved into the illusions, gliding through the catastrophic Archon-battle.

Like fleeting ghosts, they weaved straight through the storm of frightening energies, entirely unnoticed.

"Will we not be caught?" Theo marveled at the stealth.

The Pontifex smirked proudly. "Relax. Dream-Path cultivators are the unrivaled masters of survival... and tactical retreats. I have hypnotized their peripheral vision."

"...Fair."

She sounded far too proud of being an expert at running away. Who knew ancient theology led to such cowardly martial arts?

"Escaping this tomb should not be a problem now," Theo said.

He glanced at Liana, who was walking beside him. Her destiny remained as inscrutable as the Abyss.

Theo felt a subtle unease settling in his gut, but he closed his eyes and focused his mental bandwidth on piloting the Shadow-Clone, leading the furious Crown Prince as far away from the true exit as possible...

***

Outside, three great suns hung high in the sky, casting their gaze upon the vast earth.

Beneath the celestial light, the peaks of the Ashfall Mountains trembled forcefully, as if a Primeval calamity was about to break free from the abyss.

From the labyrinth entrances, hundreds of martial artists scrambled out in a desperate rush, gasping for air.

Among them were the elite disciples of the Imperial Academy, led by Instructor Cassian.

"What is happening down there?" Valeria gasped, leaning on her greatsword.

"Why is the mountain roaring?!"