Chapter 877: Facing the might of Graecia
The gates of the Grand Assembly Hall opened with a grinding resonance that echoed through the White Blade, and instantly an immense aura surged outward. It was like a tidal wave of dark energy, a suffocating weight forged from the combined will of many powerful beings gathered in one place.
The aura struck the Xaos delegation head-on. It felt less like energy and more like a living storm—each ripple crashing with judgment, pressing against their bodies, gnawing at their souls. Their vision blurred, obscured by the swirling darkness, and within the haze, only one thing remained visible: eyes.
Dozens of them, sharp and commanding, each pair staring as if to weigh the very worth of their existence.
Marshal Maximo did not intervene. He stepped to the side, folding his hands behind his back, watching silently. This was no malice, no ambush—this was a test. The Xaos Kingdom had to prove itself here, beneath the gaze of the greatest powers of the Empire. To be acknowledged, they had to stand unwavering under this crushing judgment.
For the Royal Guards, the pressure was devastating. Their bones creaked, their muscles trembled, and for a heartbeat, it felt as though they were standing beneath a collapsing mountain. The weight of divine might pressed down on their shoulders like a host of calamities given flesh. Had they been ordinary Legends, they would have collapsed, broken beneath the oppression. But they were not ordinary. They were Nightmare Knights.
Their backs remained straight, their knees unbent.
In front of them, Freya, Jormungandr, Ouroboros, and Fafnir stood strong. Their power dwarfed that of the Knights, yet even they could not help but frown. The weight of the aura was so thick it distorted sight and sound, choking the senses until even these paragons struggled to pierce the veil and glimpse the hall’s interior.
Then, suddenly, a shift.
A red radiance bloomed.
It surged outward like the dawn of a crimson sun, colliding with the dark waves. The clash thundered through the chamber, and then the red light cut through. It did not merely resist the oppressive might; it sundered it, scattering the gathered auras like snow before a blazing fire.
Vlad stepped forward. Around him burned the faint image of a red sun, radiating psychic might that seemed infinite. His head was held high, his stride calm, his expression marked by a confident smile. The storm parted before him, and with every step the pressure weakened, until it seemed the hall itself bent to his advance.
At last, the interior came into view.
Inside, the Grand Assembly Hall stretched upward in majesty. Pillars taller than castles lined its sides, each one a throne unto itself. Upon them stood figures of immense power—beings whose names carried the weight of the empire.
Vlad’s gaze swept across them. Some he recognized. King Konstantine, whom he had first met during his earliest journey into Graecia. Spartacus, his brother in arms in the Doomsday World. But many others were new, unfamiliar faces cloaked in the radiance of authority.
There were thirteen pillars in all, and twelve were occupied. Only one remained empty: the seat directly to the left of the throne where the White Death sat.
Vlad smiled faintly. "Right beside the Royal Family. Quite the honor... No wonder they were so eager to test us."
Still, he did not falter. While the gathered Superior Legends pressed their auras to test his might, his steps never slowed.
The difference between them was like bronze and gold. Both weighed the same, yet one held immeasurable value. A True Sun Depravita—though technically equal to a Superior Legend in raw ranking—was something else entirely. His essence was deeper, purer, forged of wrath and destruction on a scale these others could scarcely comprehend. For many, resisting this test would have been a battle of their lives. For Vlad, it was little more than an inconvenience.
So much so that he allowed his mind to wander.
"A.I. Chip, scan me."
The command whispered silently within his consciousness, and the familiar mechanical tone of the AI answered.
[Beep! Initiating scan of the Host...
Name: Vlad Xaos
Race: True Depravita
Class: True Sun Depravita
...
Level (Energy): 27
Level (Body): 34
Life Level: Lord Tier
...
Stats:
Strength: 24.1 → 54.1
Agility: 20.8 → 46.2
Vitality: 29.5 → 61.1
Energy Pool (Depravita Aura): 8.1 → 20.1
Soul Force: 9.2 → 22.1
...
Seal of Sin: Soul of Wrath
...
Racial Skills:
Will of Wrath
Eyes of Wrath
...
Gift: Depravita Samsara Typhoon]
A wide grin spread across Vlad’s face, his eyes alight with thrill and anticipation. His growth was astonishing.
His energy had nearly reached the limit of the Legendary Rank, a single step away from High Legend. His body, however, had already crossed into the realm of the Superior Legends—flesh and bone strengthened to an unbreakable level. And beyond that, his Life Level had ascended to the Lord Tier, marking a qualitative leap in his very existence.
The numbers reflected the truth: his body nearly three times stronger than before, his energy and soul force doubled. Even more astonishing was the evolution of his Seal of Sin. Once the Skin of Wrath, it had transformed into the Soul of Wrath. His wrath now burned not only through his aura and his strikes but through his very soul, enhancing his mastery of both body and spell, while vastly improving his control over the Laws of Space.
The Red Sun of Wrath had not merely restored him after the destruction of his body and Soul Dimension—it had reborn him into something greater.
Of course, there were setbacks. The destruction of his physical body had annihilated the Demon Soul Strength System and the devil bloodlines once within him. These were significant losses that needed to be fixed, not only for himself but for the Xaos Kingdom, which relied heavily on Demon Souls and devil bloodlines in its military strength. It was a weakness he would have to address, sooner rather than later.
But those concerns could wait.
Vlad’s aura burned, radiating outward with such intensity that every figure in the chamber felt it. His presence was undeniable, a sun that scorched through the darkness, daring all to oppose him.
And then, without hesitation, he led his people forward to the seat prepared for him.
The place beside the White Death.