Chapter 842 The Very Man
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Sylas slowly opened his eyes, exhaling a breath. There was a mark of fatigue between his brows, but it hardly dulled the sharpness of his gaze.
After checking how much time he had left, he nodded to himself and did something he hadn't had the opportunity to do in a very long time…
He closed his eyes and went to sleep.
**
In the depths of the City of Gold Field Dungeon, a pillar of golden light was still raging. As imposing as the sight was, very few would understand that the truth of the situation was far greater than anyone could imagine.
Not only was the pillar piercing from the earth to the skies above, but it had cut deep within the Earth's crust, plowing down toward its very core.
Deep within this pillar, the ashen corpse of a man lay there, broken. Any other human, or living being of the F-Grade for that matter, within this pillar should have been shredded to pieces. There was a reason that even Sylas didn't dare to try and enter it to confirm Professor Broussard's death.
And yet, if it wasn't for the devastation his battle with Sylas had forced him to suffer, one would have thought that the Professor was right at home.
Or so it seemed.
As time ticked by, and the Professor continued to float there in silence, a sinister sort of intent began to make its presence known. By the time the Field Dungeon was almost fully formed, it became clear that this… wasn't a good thing for Professor Broussard at all.
The burnt corpse suddenly opened its eyes.
It was a gaze that was hard to describe, one filled with so much death and violence it could pierce down toward one's very soul.
If Sylas had been there, he would have recognized this gaze immediately—this gaze lacking in humanity, in a bottom line, in any sort of morality at all… this gaze that was willing to do anything to accomplish its goals, no matter what the consequences or cost might be.
Aki Purvon.
"A fool who couldn't even accomplish a simple task," Aki said coldly as a corrupt aura began to exude from him.
After a moment, he suppressed his rage almost too easily. In one second, it had felt like he would be willing to burn an entire village down to ash, raping its women and hanging its children. But in the next, it was like he had never been angry in the first place.
Aki closed his eyes and began to meditate. Right now, what was most important was healing this body to acceptable standards. Then, when the time came, he would finally be able to feast on this delicacy he had been waiting so very long for.
**
Of course, this Aki was unaware of something quite interesting. A Split Realm was nothing more than an echo of the past. Those that appeared in it might have been real in some shape or form, but even if they were, the physical manifestations of them within said Split Realm weren't actually real.
This was all to say that…
Aki Purvon had no idea that he had already suffered quite a devastating loss at the hands of this "pawn" of his.
Whether that would happen again was hard to say. But entering with such brazen confidence was anything but good.
**
The Woodland Territory.
Dense darkness and corruption flooded over the once peaceful land.
The Woodland Territory had once been one of the only regions in the world without Demon Villages to worry about. It could be said that thanks to Sylas, it had experienced quite some prosperity as a result.
But now, everything had changed.
A flood of Demons far more sinister than any ever seen on Earth before came out in endless torrents.
Not many people across even the vast expanse of the universe understood why the system had such a distaste for Demons. All things considered, the system never discriminated based on Race—so long as you were an Overlord Race, that is.
Depending on the planet or World in question, an Overlord Race could be anyone from Human to Beast. There was no limitation… except for the fact that the system had never acknowledged a Demon as an Overlord Race.
It seemed odd and arbitrary. Demons were living creatures just like any other, and they weren't necessarily the only savages amongst humanoids either. There were quite a number of other Races well-acknowledged by the system who had streaks that were no less savage…
Races that drank blood to grow…
Races that sacrificed their children to their Gods…
Races that treated even the darlings of the system like food on their platter…
And yet, the only Race that seemed to have gained the system's ire was the Demon Race.
And somehow, almost no one knew why.
Whatever the truth was, though, it had little to do with the current events. As more and more Demons flooded into Earth, from the complete opposite side of the world to Sylas, it seemed as though there was no chance to reverse things at all.
In the end, this ninth and final attempt of Earth would end much like all the other ones had, not giving anyone, not even those who thought themselves to be exceptionally well-prepared, a chance to reverse things.
But this was when something odd happened.
The Demons rushing out, tongues hanging from their mouths, their corrosive saliva splashing against the once vibrant grounds, were suddenly shattered into a rain of blood.
They were just a moment from stepping out of the Woodland Territory, only to find an invisible barrier stopping them.
Deep within the Woodland Territory, a man who seemed built like a small mountain slowly opened his eyes. He seemed half Human, half Demon, a peculiar might swirling around him.
Had Sylas been there, he would have certainly recognized this man. Then, he would have also understood who it was that had killed Ragnar.
The very man who had displayed the capability of controlling Demons.
Moose.