Chapter 321: Submission
Kaito remained suspended in the air.
The soulfire in his sockets performed a steady, rhythmic sweep of the theater
below. Five Tier 3 Anomalies were sprawled on the asphalt, their forms vibrating
with the frequency of terminal terror. Chief Lyra Frost was down on one knee,
her hand gripping her sword so hard the veins in her neck were bulging—she was
fighting a desperate battle against the atmospheric pressure he radiated.
In the distance, the seven hundred elite units were arranged in perfect, square
phalanxes.
No shouting. No jostling. Absolute, clinical silence.
This was the military of the Evernight Empire. Even the "Recruits" among them
possessed the mass-energy to dismantle everything this world considered a
threat.
Kaito performed a rapid mental calculation.
Convention dictates a dominant opening address. But what is the appropriate
script?
'I am the Sovereign of Evernight, Dominator of All Races'? Too ostentatious.
Lacks modern nuance.
'Grovel before my majesty, you insignificant pests'? Borderline embarrassing.
Too much 'Villain-of-the-Week' energy.
Whatever. I'll let the professionals handle the vocalization.
Kaito snapped his fingers.
In the next heartbeat, the seven columns moved in unison.
No vocal commands. No battle-horns. The seven hundred undead marched toward
Kaito's coordinate with a precision that defied biological movement. Every pace
was identical. Every gesture was a perfect replication of the next.
The Skeleton Kings of the Punishment Legion marched in heavy plate, their
greatswords held vertically; every step caused the earth to groan. The Death
Knights of the Fearless Vanguard rode their skeletal warhorses, the hooves
striking the air with a dull, echoing thunder.
The Vampires of the State Army drifted in their formal tuxedos, elegant and
predatory. The Liches of the Arcane Legion clutched their staves, wreathed in
localized Mana-eddies. The Bone Withers of the Silent Extinction Legion radiated
a passive death-aura that withered the weeds beneath their feet.
The Aegis Giants of the Aegis Legion towered five meters high—walking fortresses
of bone and iron. The Shadow Guards remained within the silhouettes, their
presence marked only by the occasional flicker of a violet eye.
Seven legions. Seven distinct signatures.
But they shared a singular objective: To offer the highest honors to their
Master.
Lyra Frost stared, her eyes wide. She had never witnessed a spectacle of this
magnitude. This wasn't an army; it was a work of structural art. Every
individual movement was synchronized to the micro-millimeter, as if they were a
single organism.
And the pressure... the aura of these creatures was unquantifiable. Even the
"weakest" unit among them radiated a signature that eclipsed the Tier 3 horrors
she had spent her life hunting.
"This is the Evernight host?" she whispered. "What manner of God is Bochi's
Master?"
The five Tier 3 Anomalies were nearing a total cognitive collapse. Umbra was
pinned to the floor, staring through his hood at the approaching undead.
"Skeletons... they are all skeletons..." "Are they the 'Flayed-Bones' from the
high-tier Instances?" "Negative... the Flayed-Bones are Tier 3 mobs... these
things..."
Umbra felt the weight of his soul being crushed. "Every individual unit in that
host... is higher-tier than I am!"
The ceramic smile on the Grinning Mask was twisted into a mask of pure agony.
"Finished... it's all over... we have provoked an Apex Predator..."
The Crimson-Dress Child thrashed against the asphalt, blood dripping from her
eyes. "Terrifying... so cold... I want to extract... I want to return to the
Rules..."
The Shrouded One's bandages had unraveled entirely, leaving him a heap of grey
rags on the ground.
The seven hundred undead halted exactly fifty meters from Kaito.
Then, ten Liches stepped out from the Arcane Legion's phalanx. They raised their
staves and began a synchronized incantation.
The earth shivered. Nearby, the remains of an abandoned skyscraper began to
twist and warp as if made of soft clay. Steel and concrete were kneaded by
magical force, undergoing a rapid structural reorganization.
Within ten seconds, a ten-meter-high staircase manifested beneath Kaito. It was
composed of absolute obsidian, the surface etched with glowing blue runes that
hummed with a low frequency.
At the absolute summit of the stairs, a magnificent throne slowly materialized.
It was forged from black iron and ancient bone, the armrests shaped into roaring
dragon skulls and the backrest encrusted with unpolished gemstones.
The Sovereign's Field-Throne was complete.
Kaito watched the construction, his soulfire flickering. The new recruits from
the Arcane labs certainly have a flair for the dramatic. Though this throne
is... excessive.
Whatever. Since they built it, it would be inefficient not to utilize it.
Kaito descended slowly. His boots struck the obsidian steps with a series of
sharp, rhythmic clacks.
One step. Two. Three.
With every pace he took, the atmospheric pressure in the sector spiked. Lyra
Frost felt the air turning into liquid in her lungs, making every breath a
struggle for survival. The five Anomalies were now flattened against the road,
unable to even lift their skulls.
Kaito reached the throne and sat. He tapped his scepter against the stone.
Thump.
In a single, thunderous clatter of iron, the seven hundred undead dropped to one
knee.
"WE! GREET! THE SOVEREIGN!"
The shout was a singular roar that made the entire city vibrate.
Windows in distant buildings shattered. New fissures raced across the asphalt.
The cloud layer was violently dispersed by the sonic wave.
Lyra's eardrums throbbed with a localized pain. She gritted her teeth, centering
her Od to prevent her frame from collapsing.
"This is the Evernight..." she whispered. "This is the Master..."
She had only one thought: Does humanity possess the logic for survival against a
being of this tier?
Kaito sat in silence, observing the theater. Mmh. The atmosphere is primed. It's
time for the formalization.
He raised a bony hand in a minimal gesture. The seven hundred soldiers stood up
and reset their formation.
Then, a Vampire stepped forward from the State Army ranks. It was Centurion 886,
draped in an elegant, high-collared tuxedo. He clutched a scroll of parchment
hand-delivered by Greed.
The Vampire glided to the base of the stairs and utilized a Mana-vocalization
spell.
"ATTENTION."
The voice was quiet, yet it bypassed the atmospheric interference to resonate
directly in the minds of everyone present.
"I am Centurion 886 of the Evernight State Army."
"By mandate of the Sovereign, I issue the following Planar Proclamation."
The Vampire paused, his tone turning solemn and legalistic.
"As of this cycle, this Coordinate is hereby annexed into the jurisdiction of
the Evernight Empire."
"All sentient biological units of this Plane are granted a choice: Submit to the
banner of the Evernight and become a Vassal Race."
"Those who submit shall receive the Sovereign's protection and be exempt from
inter-planar predation."
"Those who decline shall be categorized as Enemies of the Empire. Liquidation of
non-compliant units will follow."
"This is the Sovereign's Decree. It is absolute. It is unshakeable."
The Vampire rolled the scroll shut and performed a crisp salute before returning
to his unit. The process was efficient, formal, and terrifyingly cold.
This wasn't an invasion. It was a hostile takeover of the world's fundamental
management.
Lyra Frost listened to the proclamation, her mind a storm of conflicting data.
Submit... or be processed...
Is this the only path left to us?
The reaction from the five Tier 3 Anomalies was entirely different. They didn't
care about geopolitics. They only cared about the "Liquidation" clause.
☆☆☆
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