Published at 7th of July 2026 7:04 am

Chapter 2256: The escort

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Creak

The doors of the hall opened slowly, and two figures entered beneath the gazes of everyone present.

Step. Step.

One of them was short, or rather, he possessed the height of an ordinary human, making him appear somewhat insignificant compared to many of the powerful beings who frequented halls such as this. He wore a black robe that covered him from his shoulders all the way to the ground, concealing most of his body beneath layers of dark fabric.

His skin shifted subtly between shades of white and blue, while the air surrounding him was exceptionally cold, causing faint wisps of frost to form and vanish around him with every step. His face was smooth and handsome, appearing to belong to a man in his thirties. As for his aura, it clearly indicated that he was no weaker than the two individuals seated upon the thrones before him, and perhaps that was the only reason nobody dared underestimate him based solely upon appearances.

Beside him stood a much larger figure clad in black armor laced with blue patterns. A broad smile covered his face as he looked around at the swirling phenomena and strange distortions filling the hall. Unlike Glathion, who appeared somewhat irritated from the moment he entered, his companion looked genuinely fascinated by the countless wonders decorating the surroundings.

"Lord Glathion, welcome." At that moment, Omis chose to speak, though he did not rise from his seat or offer any additional courtesy. "I didn’t expect that the person who would visit us during these pleasant little demonstrations would be you."

It was obvious that the military demonstrations were merely a cover for assembling an army and intimidating the Empire of Continuous Chaos. The message behind them was hardly subtle. After all, there was no one else left in the sector who posed a truly significant threat capable of forcing such preparations.

And Glathion’s decision to arrive on this particular day carried only one possible meaning.

He had come on behalf of the Grave Empire.

"...."

Yet Glathion did not speak. Instead, a faint trace of annoyance appeared on his face, as though he had already anticipated how the conversation would unfold and found the prospect exhausting.

"Hmm? What sort of offer did they send you with, Glathion, that it has left you speechless?" Omira revealed a smile. "Don’t tell me they’ve come to demand unconditional surrender or declare war on us, hehe."

"Heh..." Glathion let out a sigh. "The choice the two of you made is an extremely strange one, that much is certain. All you had to do was publicly join them and demand greater benefits, or reject them outright and prepare for whatever consequences followed. Why did the two of you decide to kidnap the messenger?"

"Haha, kidnap is a rather dramatic word." Omis pointed toward one corner of the hall. "He’s sitting over there. Sleeping, eating, training, listening, and living like royalty after personally admitting that he’s nothing more than a servant. So where exactly is our reward for providing him with such an experience? If anything, we’re the ones doing him favors."

"I don’t understand the two of you..." Glathion frowned. "I know The Syndicate visited you just as they visited me. I know they threatened, promised, pressured, and made every other problem seem insignificant by comparison. But you aren’t children, at least not to the extent you’re pretending to be. You had plenty of time to weigh the consequences and benefits before choosing a side, and both of you possess more than enough intelligence to understand the position you’re currently placing yourselves in."

Then his frown deepened.

"So what exactly is happening here?"

On the twin thrones before him sat two young men with smooth skin and curly black hair. Both had already begun looking at him with visible anger. Clearly, neither of them appreciated those words, nor did they appreciate being spoken to as though they had made some obvious mistake.

"So after weighing the consequences and benefits and thinking carefully, you decided to become a subordinate and swear an oath, Glathion?" Omis looked downward with apparent pity. "That was the conclusion you arrived at after all those years?"

"The great Glathion who carved out a place for himself beside us and refused pressure from Zargul or any outside power for millions of years..." Omira shook his head. "Was sent here to conduct negotiations on behalf of a power that hasn’t even existed for a thousand years. If someone had told me that story a few centuries ago, I would have killed him for blasphemy."

"..."

Glathion sighed as he watched the twins grow increasingly agitated, then shook his head slowly.

"I didn’t come here to conduct any negotiations."

"Then what?" Omis displayed a strange smile. "Did you come as a messenger of love and peace? Are you here because you care about our well-being? Should we be grateful for your concern?"

"What we received from The Syndicate was nothing compared to what we witnessed ourselves, Glathion!" Omira rose from his seat. "Your surrender in such a humiliating manner placed tremendous pressure upon us. One could even say that you’re responsible for the situation we find ourselves in now. The moment someone of your standing bent the knee, every eye in the universe immediately turned toward the rest of us."

Then he pointed toward the military demonstration.

A demonstration involving nearly four thousand fleets belonging to the Wings of the Grave Empire, moving together with a level of discipline and coordination that should not have existed between so many former rivals.

The two Guardians were not fools.

Nor had they been born yesterday.

The Empire of Continuous Chaos could not gather more than a thousand fleets even if it exhausted every reserve it possessed and stripped defenses from its outer territories, which meant they were already losing in that regard before any battle had even begun.

Equipment and manpower?

Losing.

The amount of pearls available to each side and the ability to utilize the Space Gates to strike deep behind enemy lines, reinforce distant fronts, or even firing the cannons?

Losing.

Intelligence networks and special operations forces capable of infiltrating sectors and manipulating events from the shadows?

Losing.

Top-tier powerhouses?

The Grave Empire could call upon Glathion and Hedrick, and it maintained ties with the Six Great Powers of Sector 101, meaning they were losing there as well, perhaps more decisively than anywhere else.

They had never needed Servon to tell them any of this.

Nor had they needed Glathion to stand before them now and look at them with pity, as though observing two people stubbornly walking toward a cliff they could already see.

The Grave Empire, backed by Lord Robin, who had now been revealed to possess the support of the Cosmic Elder himself, a revelation that had shaken countless powers throughout multiple sectors...

Had become a force that could no longer be opposed through ordinary means, nor treated as just another rising empire.

Yet The Syndicate wanted them to oppose it.

The Grave Empire might surpass them in nearly every category imaginable, but not to the extent that The Syndicate surpassed everyone else.

The Syndicate’s power was terrifying.

Its upper echelon was impossible to measure, impossible to properly evaluate, and perhaps impossible to fully understand even for those standing inside it.

Marlik the Butcher alone could harvest the heads of every Guardian participating in this chaos from both sides, even if all of them joined forces and fought together, and there was no guarantee that doing so would even slow him down significantly.

And the information they possessed...

Omis rose to his feet as well and shouted, "Damn you, Glathion, damn you! You chose the easy road and lowered your head. If you had remained free, these demonstrations and all this pressure would never have appeared in the first place, and we could have supported one another instead of being cornered like this and forced to choose between monsters!"

"It’s a matter of priorities." Glathion raised his shoulders slightly, his voice remaining calm despite the anger directed toward him. "I built my empire so I could eventually enjoy peace, resources, stability, and quiet. I chose the path most likely to preserve those priorities. If the two of you wish to remain trapped in this struggle and throw yourselves into the abyss created by the Cosmic Elder and that person, then you have all my respect and admiration. I simply do not intend to follow you."

"...." Omis clenched his teeth hard enough that the muscles in his jaw visibly tightened. "Did you come here today simply to anger us further, Glathion?"

Omira pointed directly at him.

"Then say what you actually came to say! Stop circling around it and speak plainly!"

"I already have." Glathion shook his head. "I didn’t come here to conduct negotiations of any kind. They paid me half a billion pearls simply to come here as an escort, nothing more and nothing less."

"An escort to whom?!" Omis frowned deeply, immediately sensing that something about that answer was wrong.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOM

At that moment, a tremendous explosion erupted from the side of the hall, sending dense clouds of dust, shattered stone, and fragments of reinforced materials flying in every direction with enough force to shake portions of the enormous structure.

"What in the hell is happening now?!" Omis covered his nose with one hand while waving the other through the air in irritation.

The dust vanished instantly.

And what appeared behind it was astonishing.

The wall beside Servon no longer existed.

An entire section of it had simply disappeared.

In its place stretched the open sky, endless purple clouds, and fantastical moons hanging across the horizon like decorations from another reality. Fresh air poured into the throne hall through the enormous opening, carrying distant scents and the sound of wind.

Servon himself had retreated into his chair so deeply that he looked as though he wanted to merge with it, staring at Holak with visible terror and disbelief.

Under the bewildered and questioning gazes of everyone present, including Glathion himself, Holak turned toward Omis and Omira with an expression so calm that it seemed entirely disconnected from the destruction behind him, as though nothing unusual had occurred at all.

Then he pointed over his shoulder and said,

"The place needed better ventilation."

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