Published at 28th of May 2026 7:02 am

Chapter 1763 Lords and Kings

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Shadowmuir.

Adam sprinted across the ashen plain inside this sunless realm. Several Shadows chased after him at full speed. However, he was quicker.

With a combination of physical speed and illusion magic, he eventually left them in the dust. He deemed it unnecessary and fruitless to battle them. These creatures were notoriously difficult to kill despite being weaker than him.

So he chose to flee. There was no shame in that. He had far bigger things on his plate.

As he gazed at the darkening sky, he thought to himself with an intense frown on his face, Damn it, how long has it been? Is it already past midnight?

After battling the shadowkins and that powerful Shadow for so long, he had truly lost track of time. But he was certain that it hadn't been more than a day. Perhaps, half a day.

I need to return!

His expression turned grave by the second. He first needed to find a safe place to study this world's natural laws. Only after that could he form a connection to the spirit world. And once in the spirit world, he could easily return to Tron.

His mind was a storm of chaotic thoughts. He wondered how the battle in the material world had concluded. He wondered if his friends were all right. He thought of Valerian's state. The little guy must have been beside himself. And finally, he thought of the approaching devil's army.

"Damn it all!" he cursed aloud and picked up speed. He flew close to the ground, trying his best to remain in a concealed state.

At last, after what seemed like forever, a vast mountain range appeared in the distance. Once again, the mountain range looked like a twisted reflection of its counterpart in the material world. Its peaks reached toward the dark sky like the mutated fangs of an ominous beast.

Adam quickly scaled one of the mountains and found a giant cave. After ensuring that there weren't any threats inside, he finally laid out a runic formation inside the cave.

Then he sat down cross-legged and calmed his inner turmoil. At last, he began to study the natural laws of the Shadowmuir.

An arched gate materialized around him, phasing in and out of reality as he tried to establish a connection with the spirit world.

***

Material world.

A vast army swept across the land like a living nightmare.

Three hundred thousand devils marched forward in endless ranks, their numbers stretching far beyond the horizon. The ground trembled beneath their advance, forests were crushed beneath clawed feet, and every settlement they passed was left scarred by bloody ruin.

Different breeds of devils moved among the host. Towering azirais clad in armor marched alongside twisted beasts that crawled on all fours. Shadowkins slipped through the shadows. Morvans and nullfaces dragged their hideous forms across the ground, while others carried banners woven from flesh and bone.

Above them, imps and spikewings darkened the skies. They circled overhead in great swarms, their shrill screeches echoing through the heavens as they reveled in the destruction below.

Some dove low over towns, villages, and forests, setting fire to everything in their path before flying back to the skies with manic laughter. Mortals that were unfortunate enough not to escape in time were reduced to nothing more than food for these devils.

Behind the infernal army remained only chaos, as lands burned, roads crumbled, and death embraced all.

Riding on a giant red destrier at the forefront, the azirai leader, Volgron, had a calm look on his face. He did not look like someone who was heading out for battle. Instead, it seemed that he had come out on a lovely stroll to take a look at the wonders Tron had to offer.

"Not nervous?" Marden, who was riding next to him, asked curiously.

Volgron arched a brow at that question, wondering just who it was that had the courage to approach him and speak so casually. He knew none in his infernal army would dare to — not even his own fellow Magi. As for the cultists of this world, they were utterly spineless.

The devil turned to the speaker, and a moment later, he revealed an intrigued smile. "Blood Lord."

He turned back around, facing the horizon. A chuckle full of scorn escaped his lips, and he continued, "You people… attaching titles like 'Lords' and 'Kings' to random nobodies. It's amusing, really."

Marden's eyes narrowed. He shook his head, and just when he was about to lead his horse away, the devil spoke again.

"I have fought in wars far more brutal than the one we're heading into," he said matter-of-factly. "I have faced enemies far more dangerous and powerful than you can even hope to imagine."

Azirai turned to him, eye flashing with disdain. "So, no. I'm not the least bit nervous."

"Well," Marden began. "You should."

His lips curled upward slightly, and he added, "You will find that the Lords and Kings you so look down upon are more than you can handle."

"Hoh?" Volgron grinned from ear to ear, flashing his sharp canines. "I like you, human."

He paused briefly, his eyes gleaming with interest. "When this is all over, why don't you come to Ironynth with me. I'm sure Magus Govax will be—"

His words got caught in his throat when he suddenly sensed his destrier's shadow ripple. A moment later, a shadowkin silently emerged from it.

Volgron's brows furrowed, a terrible premonition blooming in his heart. He pulled the horse's reins and said, "What's the matter? Anything happen on the frontlines?"

The shadowkin bowed first, then whispered in a shaky voice. "My Lord, it's Rekan."

"What about him?" Volgron pressed.

The shadowkin gulped, then shook his head. "He's… he's no more."

"What?" Volgron's face turned dark and solemn.

By now, a few other devils had gathered nearby, along with the Cult Leader and the Elders. Marden wisely guided his horse behind the lich, joining the other Elders at his back.

The shadowkin paid no heed to the others and continued, "Our scouts confirmed that earlier today, Rekan and a dozen of his subordinates had forced the Dark King into the Shadowmuir. And I've just received a report confirming their deaths."

Volgron refused to believe it. "The flame in Rekan's Life Lamp has gone out?!"

"…Yes, my lord." The shadowkin nodded meekly. Fearing the azirai's anger, he quickly slipped back into the shadows and retreated.

The devils exchanged uneasy glances. Rekan was one of the two commanders tasked by Govax to lead this army. Yet, the devil had already perished before the main host even arrived at the battlefield. For the first time, nervousness crept into their hearts.

Volgron remained silent for a long time. At last, he turned to the lich, who was silently observing him.

The pale green flames in the lich's eyes flickered with contempt. His next words cut sharp and cold as a whip.

"I warned him to leave the Dark King alone."

Volgron's eyes blazed with fury. "Perhaps, you misheard, lich." He inhaled deeply, trying to suppress the raging storm in his heart. "The Dark King has been pulled into the Shadowmuir. He's as good as dead!"

The Cult Leader turned his gaze southward. The battlefield lay a day's ride away.

Then he shook his head and said with certainty:

"You're wrong."

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