Chapter 369 - 354: Uncaged

Chapter 369: Chapter 354: Uncaged

Outside Golden Ears City, the battle had become a complete rout.

Empowered by King Morne’s silver Domain, which blanketed the battlefield, the allied soldiers were unstoppable.

Soldiers on the scaling ladders swarmed up like agile monkeys, while the defenders on the walls were in constant retreat, their morale utterly shattered.

Finally, with a deafening BOOM, the massive gate that served as Golden Ears City’s last line of defense collapsed inward under the relentless assault of the Siege Hammer, throwing up a towering cloud of dust.

The gates were breached!

This meant that the defenses of this jewel of the Kingdom, the heart of its final resistance, had been completely ripped open.

King Morne, who had dominated the battlefield with his Domain, finally spoke.

His deep voice, like the toll of a great bell, resounded with unquestionable authority, carrying clearly across the entire wall district.

"Lay down your weapons! Stop this pointless resistance! In the name of the King, I promise that all who surrender shall be spared!"

That voice was the final weight that broke the defenders’ already crumbling will.

The remaining soldiers and Low Tier Transcendents looked at each other, their faces etched with the exhaustion that follows a lost struggle.

"We... we’ve lost..."

A soldier with a blood-streaked face mumbled as his Longsword fell to his feet with a CLANG.

"We couldn’t even... hold the gate."

Another officer in tattered Leather Armor glanced around bitterly, seeing nothing but despair in the eyes of his comrades.

"Let’s surrender. At least... we’ll live."

After a brief silence and a few scattered words, a cacophony of metal clattering against stone rose and fell.

One by one, the surviving defenders cast aside their weapons and lowered their heads.

At this sight, a glimmer of excitement and relief shone in Princess Gloria’s eyes.

The allied soldiers beside her erupted in a wave of thunderous cheers as the joy of victory quickly began to spread.

Yet, amidst this jubilant atmosphere, only Roland’s brow was tightly furrowed.

’Victory had come too quickly, too easily.’

’From the morning’s formation to the breaching of the gates, less than half a day had passed.’

’That was certainly due to King Morne’s presence, but...’

’Where were Lucius and Anno?’

’They had chosen the path of most desperate resistance. How could they not have a contingency?’

’From start to finish, neither of the two key figures had made an appearance.’

This extreme abnormality was like an icy needle stabbing at Roland’s heart.

"Sir Roland..."

Gloria approached with a relaxed smile, her voice cutting through Roland’s thoughts.

"Get ready. We should enter the city now. This absurd war is finally over..."

Roland nodded slightly, suppressing the unease in his heart as he began to reply.

"Yes, Your Highness. We..."

The words had barely left his lips.

Without any warning, a deeply unsettling feeling seized him.

It was as if a tranquil lake in his soul, long held in a delicate balance, had been forcibly flooded by a cold, profane torrent from a distant shore.

At first, it was just a subtle ripple that made his breath catch.

But in the next moment, that ripple swelled at a terrifying speed, growing violent before instantly transforming into a monstrous tsunami that crashed over his soul.

A primal revulsion, fear, and sense of alarm screamed wildly within him.

A strange sensation, a mixture of searing pain and icy cold, radiated from his left chest as if it had been set alight.

Roland’s face instantly paled, and his gaze, sharp as a falcon’s, shot toward the heart of Golden Ears City.

He stared toward the vague silhouette of the High Tower in the city’s western district.

’Something...’

’...is coming out!’

The moment that thought flashed through his mind, an intense tremor of dread struck him, as if an icy hand had clenched his heart.

An instant later, an invisible ripple radiated outward from the center of Golden Ears City.

It wasn’t an ordinary shockwave, but a transparent pulse accompanied by an eerie hum.

Wherever the ripple passed, the celebrating allied soldiers collapsed as if struck by an invisible hammer, crying out as they fell. They clutched their heads and groaned in pain, instantly losing their ability to fight.

Across the entire battlefield, only the Transcendents could barely remain on their feet.

But every one of them could feel the strange power contained within that wave, like icy needles piercing the depths of their souls.

The still-smoky battlefield suddenly fell into an eerie silence, broken only by the wails of the fallen soldiers drifting on the wind.

All eyes turned involuntarily toward the center of Golden Ears City as a chill crept up every spine.

Just as the eerie ripple finished sweeping across the battlefield, leaving a wake of pained groans and dead silence, the sky above the center of Golden Ears City abruptly darkened.

It wasn’t that clouds were blocking the sun, but rather a deeper, more ominous Shadow, as if light itself were being twisted and devoured.

An indescribable stench began to spread, a mixture of thick sulfur, rotting viscera, and stale blood.

It was so strong it was nauseating, and even battle-hardened veterans couldn’t help but cover their noses and mouths.

Then, from the direction of the High Tower to the west, a sound began.

At first, it was a dense, skin-crawling sound of scraping and hissing, like countless sharp claws grinding against stone.

Then, a cacophony of unnamable roars, shrieks, and blasphemous whispers intertwined, forming a torrent of sound that assaulted the eardrums and stirred the most primal fears in the hearts of all who heard it.

And then, they appeared.

The first to swarm into the streets and clamber onto the walls were hordes of terrifying beings, twisted in form and varied in size.

Some looked like upright hyenas covered in filthy fur, their slavering maws filled with sharp teeth, their eyes burning with a pure, unadulterated lust for slaughter.

Others resembled flayed humanoids, their crimson muscles and sinews exposed, wielding swords that burned with green, unholy flames and letting out howls of pain and rage.

They swarmed in a chaotic mass, shoving and even tearing at one another. In their path, both the surrendered defenders and the fallen allied soldiers were indiscriminately ripped apart and devoured, the scene instantly transforming into a living Purgatory.

However, amidst this tide of Chaos, a few distinctly different figures stood out.

They maintained a roughly humanoid silhouette but were far larger.

Dark red skin stretched taut over powerful muscles. Some had majestic, curving horns growing from their heads, and long, spiked tails swished behind them.

They wielded massive Beheading Swords that seemed forged from Obsidian or Chains that shimmered with a cold light. Their eyes glinted with intelligent, cold malice, as if they were both appreciating and orchestrating the slaughter.

They moved with a strange discipline, occasionally herding or punishing their more frenzied companions, a stark contrast to the pure Chaos surrounding them.

The Shadow in the sky spread, the acrid stench intensified, and the terrifying symphony of sounds became deafening.

A bone-piercing chill and a searing aura from Hell intertwined bizarrely, making the very air feel viscous and heavy.

The ground trembled faintly, as if unable to bear the weight of these abominations that should not exist in the world.

The smile on Gloria’s face had long since frozen, replaced by sheer, disbelieving horror.

Even Morne, who was usually as unshakable as a mountain, now wore a grave expression. The surging silver Fighting Spirit around him instinctively contracted and condensed, as if he were facing a formidable foe.

The searing pain and icy chill in Roland’s left chest peaked. He gripped the hilt of his Secret Silver Longsword so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Amidst this Purgatory of terrifying shapes and blasphemous sounds, a low, tense voice spoke beside Roland’s ear.

"Abyssal Fangs... and Nine Prisons’ Hounds..."

He followed the sound and saw that Galvis had silently drawn near at some point.

His brow was tightly furrowed, his face devoid of its usual playful banter.

The Harp he always carried was gone, quickly stowed and slung across his back.

His hands were clenched into loose fists, his sharp gaze sweeping over the chaotically roaring monsters and the figures that radiated a cold, orderly malice.

He spoke in a low voice, each word seeming to be forced from between his teeth.

"Now... we’re in deep trouble..."