Chapter 1 The Nightmare is Dissipating

The nightmare was dissipating.

The "Forgotten Abyss," shrouded in the chaotic power of Lockmarton for ten thousand years, was gradually breaking free from the darkness, and the first thing to change was the heart of that epic battle, the throne of the former Nightmare Tyrant—Spiral Hill.

The twilight-like dusk vanished imperceptibly, and the twisted, bizarre remnants of Spiral Hill completely disintegrated silently. The monsters that had poured out of the nightmare were like morning dew illuminated by sunlight. Layers of smoke rose from their bodies and gradually became transparent, until they dissipated one by one between heaven and earth. The storm above the plain ceased, and the giant pillars of dust collapsed as if awakened from a dream. Starlight rose from the pillars of dust, floating into the sky like liberated souls, while glowing, mysterious fragments fell from the air, scattering across the battlefield, onto every soldier and general.

Calaxius watched this scene blankly, reaching out his hand subconsciously.

A shard of shimmering debris landed in his palm, radiating a faint warmth. He seemed to hear someone whispering thanks, but when he listened more closely, he realized it was just an illusion.

All sorts of supernatural powers dissipated, and a beam of light shone on his face.

The churning clouds in the sky gradually calmed and scattered in all directions. Light, absent from this world for many years, descended from the sky, dispelling the last of the haze. Beams of light pierced the firmament, pouring down like a thousand torrents.

"The nightmare is over..." A high-ranking holy knight took off his blood-stained helmet and tucked it under his arm, tilting his head and squinting at the radiant sky. "This time, it's really over..."

The exhausted warriors could finally rest. Having lost the will to support themselves, they collapsed to the ground, sprawled in disarray, covered in blood and mud. They looked at each other, a strong sense of joy and relief making them want to laugh or shout to vent their emotions, but they no longer had the strength even to shout. They could only look at their comrades, trying to smile.

Calaxius also wanted to collapse like that, even for just a minute, to let himself rest. But he steeled his will and stood, swaying, as he walked toward the wardens.

His platinum staff had been completely overloaded and destroyed in the previous battle, so he could only use a crooked wooden stick to support himself.

Some blurry figures stood before the Mountain King.

The Legion of Heroes and the Legion of the End had been reduced to less than ten percent of their original strength after their final battle. Countless twisted warriors and ancient heroes had fallen on the road to the charge, paving the way to the future for the living. When dawn finally arrived, only a few from these two legions remained standing on the battlefield.

One by one, the deformed and twisted dark creatures, the empty and transparent soul warriors, the empty suits of armor and robes, gathered before the Mountain King, as they had done thousands of years ago when they were reviewed.

A gaunt old man stood at the front of the group, like an ordinary old man in his twilight years, tilting his head and speaking to the Mountain King.

Calaxius seemed to suddenly remember that the "Pope" no longer belonged to the world of the living. He was an aggregation of the dead, a member of the army of the dead.

Augustus VII, the fatherly figure, was already dead.

The Mountain King, Godon, leaned down before these warriors, listening intently to the old Pope's words. After a long time, he nodded slightly, as if making a promise, and then slowly stood up.

A beam of light poured down from the clouds, illuminating the Legion of the End.

The twisted and mutated limbs dissolved in the light, and the corroded bodies rapidly vaporized. Accompanied by dissipating black smoke, these twisted monsters returned to their original forms—as souls. Knights in shining armor, priests in pure white robes. The warrior who held the battle flag also recovered, becoming a battlefield bishop in a war robe, with white hair and a resolute face. The tattered cloth that had been tied behind his back fluttered in the air, gradually transforming into a golden battle flag depicting the profile of a goddess, and returned to his hand.

The old Pope nodded to the battlefield bishop, glanced back at Calaxius, and then turned and walked into the ranks of the dead.

The battlefield bishop raised the golden battle flag high: "The entire army, about face!"

"Forward—march!"

The dead stepped out in unison, heading towards the light that shone from the clouds, heads held high, chests out.

More and more light poured down from the clouds, growing stronger and stronger, finally converging into ubiquitous celestial light, illuminating the entire old world with brilliant radiance. In this blaze of light, the figures of the legion gradually thinned, gradually receding, finally becoming one with the light of dawn.

The ten wardens stood solemnly, watching them depart.

On the battlefield behind them, the surviving soldiers struggled to stand up, supporting each other as they watched their ancestors leave.

After the silent farewell, Calaxius felt something and looked up. A simple staff carved from curved thorns slowly fell from the air. He released the wooden stick in his hand and reached out to take the thorn staff, feeling a trace of lingering warmth.

"According to 'their' wishes, 'they' hope that you will take over the responsibility of the Pope," the Mountain King's voice came from the sky. "The arrival of dawn does not mean the end of everything, but the beginning. Someone needs to lead this world back on track. Are you willing?"

Calaxius gripped the thorn staff tightly. The old Pope had looked back at him as he turned to step into the ranks of the dead. From the depths of that gaze, he already knew the responsibility he would face.

The arrival of dawn did not mean the end of everything—even if the threat of Lockmarton disappeared forever, and the Chaos Tide no longer threatened this world, Coro was destined to experience a period of turmoil and hardship. In the outside, real world, the Chaos War had raged for seven years, and the conspiracies of the Annihilation Cult had caused the kingdoms to suffer unimaginable damage in the last month of the war. It was a world in need of restoration. Many things needed to be started anew. Moreover, when the "Chaos Tide" became a memory of the past, Coro had to rebuild a new order, a new order that the people living on this land had never imagined. At this time, someone had to stand up and lead everything.

Calaxius accepted this heavy burden, but he also felt the immense pressure. The Mountain King seemed to see what he was thinking. A rumbling sound came from the sky: "The wardens will return to this world."

"We will also help," Mulu's voice came from another direction, accompanied by heavy footsteps. He was not a member of the wardens, nor did he understand the power of the Light of Order. Therefore, he had not stood with the Mountain King in the previous battle, but had instead sat in the Sanctuary Legion. "I believe Hao Ren will have follow-up arrangements."

"Hao Ren..." The Mountain King couldn't help but look up at the sky. The rift that reflected the external universe had disappeared, and the prison system's barriers had been closed again to prevent Lockmarton's power from surging back into this world. He did not know what was happening outside. "I wonder if everything is going well on his end..."

"I believe in him," Mulu said slowly. "He never plans anything without confidence. Even if he seems nonchalant, everything he does is well-thought-out, and he never fails."

Just as Mulu finished speaking, a beam of light suddenly cut through the sky.

This beam of light was different from ordinary celestial light. It not only illuminated the firmament but also tore through space. The Coro Prison's shielding system was opened from the outside, and images of the outside universe flashed briefly in the beam of light. There was no sign of Lockmarton's aura in that scene.

Mulu revealed an expression of anticipation, smiling and pointing to the figure that emerged from the beam: "Look, he's back."

"Landlord!"

"Uncle Ren!"

"Big Cat!"

"Hiss-ha—biubiu!"

A crowd of people surged forward. The first to reach him were naturally his tenants. Hao Ren greeted these familiar faces while skillfully grabbing the little weak chicken and stuffing it into a can. Then, he nodded to the Mountain King Godon and Calaxius, who arrived later.

Calaxius asked urgently, "Lockmarton..."

"It won't be coming back," Hao Ren activated his personal space, showing the last bit of fragment he had collected from Lockmarton's soul, "This is its last fragment. Witnessed by another true god, it has been stripped of the possibility of being resurrected or returning in any form."

Calaxius couldn't help but close his eyes and draw a circle on his chest with his hand: "Thank the goddess..."

Although Lockmarton had been banished from this world, they couldn't be completely relieved until they were certain that it was truly and permanently dead!

Hao Ren took this opportunity to survey the battlefield.

The heroes were gone, and even the remaining base of Spiral Hill had vanished into thin air. The great plain was illuminated by celestial light, and the fog and shadows that had lingered on the plain were rapidly dissipating. A sense of peace permeated the battlefield.

He sighed softly, lamenting the end of a nightmarish era and celebrating the survival of a civilization. Then, he looked up at the Mountain King.

"Godon, how is the wardens' influence and appeal on the secular kingdoms?"

"Most people in the secular kingdoms may not know of the wardens' existence, but the church's appeal should be sufficient. Although the Theocratic States' early withdrawal of troops from the secular kingdoms during this crisis has somewhat affected the prestige of the Holy See, I believe that everything will turn around as long as the truth is explained."

"I need your influence," Hao Ren turned and nodded to Calaxius. "The follow-up arrangements for this world and some things about the external universe need to be known to the whole world."