Published at 11th of June 2026 6:16 am

Chapter 1794 The Underworld

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The old tales spoke of a divine being called the Merciless.

She gathered the souls of the fallen, spoke with spirits that should not answer, and walked freely among corpses without disgust or fear.

Among scholars of ancient and forbidden knowledge, there existed an old belief.

They said the Merciless was the first Necromancer. The old records claimed she was the one who discovered that death was not an ending, but a force that could be shaped.

While other Gods ruled through law, honor, or wisdom, she ruled through death. In time, her power grew too great. Not only was she a formidable being in her own right, but she also descended from a hallowed lineage that made the other Gods wary of her.

When the King of Gods looked upon her, he saw a future filled with darkness and death. So he cast judgment upon her.

The Merciless was cast away from heaven. She fell beyond the lands of men. She fell beyond the roots of the World Tree.

But in the dark depths of the spirit world, she rose once more.

There, she built her own divine kingdom. It was a land without sunlight. A land where the dead gathered in endless numbers. A land were river of black water crossed frozen plains, and silent cities were carved into pale stones older than memory itself.

In the olden days, that kingdom was known by another name.

In the present age, it was simply called…

The Underworld.

To ordinary men, it was a cursed place.

But to Necromancers, it was a holy ground.

For the Underworld was the source of their power. It was the plane from which they summoned spirits, corpses, and undead servants into the world of the living. Every ritual of necromancy opened a path, no matter how small, to the ancient kingdom of the Merciless.

It was said that every undead creature carried the fragment of the Underworld within it. Yet the laws of that realm were absolute.

The dead could enter and leave its gate, wandering between the material world and the spirit world every time a Necromancer summoned them.

But the living were never meant to cross its borders.

For once a living being entered the kingdom of death, it could never leave again.

The cold of the Underworld would claim them slowly. Their breath would fade. Their flesh would weaken. And in time, the realm would recognize them not as living men, but as one more soul among the dead.

That was why, when the Cult Leader pulled himself and Adam into the realm of death, he cast aside years of careful planning in a fit of fury and irrationality.

At that moment, reason no longer mattered to him. The only thing left in his mind was Adam's death.

And by pulling him into the Underworld, he had cut off every path of escape. No one could reach him. No one could help him. The youth couldn't even teleport away from this realm due to the natural laws governing it.

No living being could leave the frozen kingdom once they entered it.

The Cult Leader had doomed Adam to certain death.

And now… as the madness and anger started to fade, regret slowly started to take over. He sat on an unassuming boulder and removed his helm. The green flames in the depths of his sockets burned placidly. He gazed at the river in front of him silently, lost in thought.

The Screaming River flowed through the heart of the Underworld like a gaping wound carved through the land itself.

Its black waters moved slowly, carrying corpses, broken bones, and drifting spirits through the endless cold. From within the river came distant screams that never ceased, as though countless dead souls were trapped beneath its surface forever.

The banks of the Screaming River were barren and lifeless — at least, in this part where the lich had arrived.

Jagged rocks covered in frost rose beside the water, while fields of ash and dead trees stretched into the darkness beyond. Thick cold mist hung over the shores at all times, hiding wandering spirits and half-buried ruins.

The lich stared at the black waters for a long time. Finally, he turned his gaze toward the figure sprawled on the ground beside him.

Adam was beaten beyond recognition. His face and head had been punched so many times that it barely looked human anymore. Blood covered his shattered features, and both eyes were swollen nearly shut.

And yet, through those swollen eyes, he still glared at the lich. Pure hatred burned in those tenebrous eyes.

The lich looked down at him in silence. At last, he asked what was on his mind:

"How did you know about… that place?"

Adam did not respond. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that the mad lich had pulled him down to the Underworld!

"No, you shouldn't," the lich continued, muttering under his breath as though speaking to himself. "You would have been corrupted the moment you saw it. It is impossible for you to even have knowledge about it and still retain sanity. Perhaps…"

The flames in the lich's eyes suddenly flickered as realization dawned on him.

"A spell from the School of Illusion that taps into the nightmares of the target, and creates an illusiory manifestation of their deepest fears," he finally concluded.

That was the only thing that made sense to him.

He inhaled deeply, then sighed. "It's a pity that I won't be able to acquire your body," he said as he rose to his feet and put on his helm once again.

"Yours was the most remarkable," he said. "But I'm not entirely out of choices either. Edward Turner seems to be the next best option."

Adam grunted in fury and spat through gritted teeth, "Don't… you… dare…"

The Cult Leader coldly stared at the youth. "Look at you," he said in contempt. "I don't even need to kill you. This place will do it for me."

"Guhh… wait!!" Adam reached out with a trembling hand, trying to seize the lich's legs.

"The Dark King," said the Cult Leader in disdain, "reduced to such a miserable state."

As he said those words, he weaved a set of hand seals. His shadow deepened and darkened once again, and his figure slowly plunged into it.

"With you gone, the Allied Forces will crumble," the lich said matter-of-factly.

As his figure slowly disappeared into his shadow, he left behind his final words, one filled with disappointment.

"What a waste…"

Adam's eyes trembled in fear and denial. He desperately crawled toward the shadow, trying to claw his way into it. But it was all futile.

The darkness slowly pulled away from him. The shadow faded. And he was left behind.

"No… no… no! No!" he roared in anguish.

But soon, his voice was drowned out by the distant screams rising from the black river. Cold mist slowly engulfed his bloodied and battered figure.

And just like that…

The Dark King was trapped in the Underworld.

With no way out.

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