Sunday, February 8, 2028 |
Time: 05:40 AM (Siberian Front)
The frozen surface of the Siberian sea was no longer white; it was a grotesque canvas of crimson and emerald ichor. The Emerald Guardian, once a God of the Tundra, was now a hollowed-out crystalline husk, gasping for air amidst the wreckage of its own body. Rudra had methodically dismantled its every defense, leaving it perched on the precipice of death simply so it could witness what was coming next.
Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. A tremor shook the very foundations of the Hell Gate portal, emitting a mana-frequency so violent it caused global sensors to flatline.
The sky bled into shades of violet and obsidian. From the depths of the rift, the true masters of the abyss began to emerge. These were not mere minions; they were S-Rank Void Monsters—the elite warriors of the Hell Gate, summoned by the agonizing death-throes of their King.
In a relentless, suffocating wave, they poured onto the ice. The count didn't stop at hundreds. It didn't stop at thousands. Twenty thousand S-Rank monsters now stood upon the frozen sea, a colossal ocean of darkness moving with a singular purpose: to protect their King and erase the shadow that dared to stand before him.
The Sovereign's Grin
Around the world, over four billion viewers watched the feed in paralyzed horror. At the blockade, Isadora and Juliette instinctively recoiled, their Legendary-tier instincts screaming at them to flee. Facing twenty thousand S-Rank entities was a feat deemed impossible even for a unified global army.
"It's over," Isadora whispered, her fingers trembling as she nearly dropped her staff. "No one... no being can stand against a tide of that magnitude alone."
Yet, standing before that predatory horde, the Black-Masked Reaper did something that chilled the world more than the Siberian wind.
He smiled.
Behind the jagged black mask, Rudra's violet eyes burned with an insatiable hunger. He didn't see an army of death; he saw a Banquet. To him, every monster crossing the ice was another vessel of mana to be harvested—another opportunity to honor Vikram's memory with the absolute extinction of his enemies.
"I didn't come here to level up," Rudra's voice vibrated, cutting through the unified roars of twenty thousand beasts. "I came here to erase your very concept of existence."
The Symphony of Extermination
Rudra tightened his grip on the obsidian Void Darksmith Greatsword. His 100\% Efficiency and the peak output of the Sovereign's Debt were ready to manifest their true, terrifying potential.
"Void Step."
Rudra vanished, reappearing instantly in the geometric center of the monster horde.
SLASSSHHH!
Every single strike carried the devastating weight of his 435 Strength. A single, sweeping horizontal arc cleaved through two hundred S-Rank monsters, sending their severed remains spiraling into the air. He didn't pause. He became a blur of black mana—a lethal streak that wove through the ranks of the void.
"Gluttony (Soul Siphon): Continuous Activation."
As the monsters fell, their souls and mana didn't dissipate; they were violently funneled into Rudra's frame. His Base MP surged with every passing second, a relentless intake of power that defied the laws of mana-capacity. He ignored the scrolling notifications of his growth, focusing solely on the slaughter. The brutality was absolute—monsters were being reduced to ash by Magic Caster: Fire before their bodies could even settle on the frost.
The Terror of the G.D.A.
Inside the Command Center, Kavir stared at the surging data-streams, his face pale. "His MP consumption... and his intake rate... they are reaching impossible, non-linear scales! This isn't a man fighting an army. This is a Black Hole devouring a galaxy!"
Adiraj watched from the carrier, tears of pride and grief streaming down his face as he saw Rudra tear through entities that would normally make the world's greatest Dungers tremble. Rudra wasn't just killing them; he was consuming their essence, turning their own power against them.
"Vikram... look at him," Adiraj whispered. "Your brother is writing the history of death today."
No Escape from the Reaper
The horde attempted to converge, firing concentrated mana-beams from all directions to incinerate the lone warrior. Rudra didn't flinch.
"Dominance."
A colossal violet shockwave erupted from his center, instantly grounding five thousand monsters. Their internal mana-flow was disrupted so severely that their own channeled attacks backfired, causing them to explode from within. Rudra walked through the resulting gore, adding to the mountain of corpses with every step.
He turned his gaze back to the Guardian, who lay incapacitated but conscious. Rudra delivered a kick that sent the King's broken frame crashing another hundred meters into the ice, embedding it into a deep crater.
"Every soldier of yours that dies makes your final breath that much heavier," Rudra whispered into the Guardian's sensory range.
Notifications of his rising power flickered in the periphery of his vision, but Rudra's focus remained on the remaining fifteen thousand. He had the entire night, and the abyss was hungry. This was no longer a war; it was a massacre that the world would never be allowed to forget.
📊 Sovereign Archive: Chapter 97 Engagement Summary
Battlefield Disposition
Enemy Forces: 20,000 S-Rank Void Monsters (Initial).
Casualty Rate: 5,500 eliminated in the first five minutes.
Rudra's State: Awakened Sovereign. Focus: 100\% Retribution.
Tactical Progression
Gluttony Intake: Approximately +10,000 Base MP per 500 S-Rank souls absorbed.
Strength Output: Each strike generates localized seismic tremors due to the 435 Base STR and Sovereign's Debt synergy.
Tier Multiplier: Emerald (8.0x).
Observer Perspective
Global Status: 4.2 Billion Live Viewers in a state of collective shock.
G.D.A. Directive: Kavir has officially reclassified the 'Black-Masked Reaper' as a Monarch-Level Threat.