CHAPTER 968: CLARITY AND STRENGTH

A solemn expression rested on Vlad’s face as he stood at the highest level of the Xaos Tower. Around him stood the highest echelon of the Xaos Kingdom—the True Depravitas, along with Grand Marshal Anglius and Chief Counselor Alonz.

The last two had grown remarkably in recent years.

Anglius had ascended beyond the limitations of flesh and become a Nightmare Knight, a being whose essence partially merged with that of the Depravita Race. Thanks to the battles and pressure he faced during Graecia’s Civil War, he now wielded the strength of a High Legend, his aura carrying the faint distortion brought by the power of the Laws.

Alonz, meanwhile, had walked a different path. Though he too had reached the Legendary Realm, his was a power not of blade or blood but of thought. His mind operated like a divine machine—precise, cold, and endlessly calculating. In all of Xaos, only Overlord, the A.I. Chip Clone, surpassed him in raw intellect and wisdom.

They represented the Xaos Kingdom’s trinity of power—war, wisdom, and will—and yet even they stood silent, waiting.

Moments later, the chamber trembled faintly as golden light coalesced. Overlord appeared, his humanoid form outlined by data-streams and shifting sigils. The air thickened with pressure as his consciousness expanded through the Tower, syncing with every node of the Xaos defense grid.

Only now, as the wisest and most merciless of them had appeared, could they begin.

"It is safe to assume we are being targeted," said Alonz, breaking the silence first. His tone was measured, detached. "Their objective is to inflict maximum harm upon us. The only uncertainty that remains is whether Antorus, the new Emperor of Valhalla, is cooperating directly with the Vorometallicae Race, or if Sacred King Barbatos merely took advantage of the refugees’ exodus to infiltrate us, seeking revenge for the events in the Land of the Three Calamities."

His analysis was flawless, as always—a clean dissection of the facts and their implications.

Freya’s eyes glowed faintly as she added her insight.

"Traditionally, the forces of Light and Darkness seldom ally," she said. "When they do, it is usually through the Devils—creatures of bargains, scheming, and compromise. But the Vorometallicae are different. They despise alliances, even among their own kind. To think they would work with anyone from the Light is... unlikely."

The True Depravitas, Alonz, and Anglius all nodded in agreement. Freya’s reasoning further supported the theory that the Vorometallicae were acting independently, exploiting an opportunity rather than conspiring with Valhalla.

Yet before anyone could speak further, Overlord’s voice cut through the chamber like a blade.

"Lady Freya’s assessment is correct—at least, it was, until they appeared."

He did not specify who "they" were, because none of them truly knew. Even after countless battles, their enemy remained nameless, undefined. The Kingdom called them the Alien Powers, but even that was a simplification.

They were the previous kin of the Nightmare Universe, beings like Dream of Madness and The Master, whose very thoughts could fracture reality.

"The arrival of these entities," Overlord continued, "changed everything. They are not bound by the ancient rules of Light and Darkness. They manipulate all—angels, demons, and devils alike."

His words hung heavy.

The Depravitas remembered Emanon, the masked alien who had once deceived the forces of Heaven, Hell, and the Abyss—luring some of their mightiest champions into the tomb of a Primordial God, only to use their blood as a key. No Devil had ever achieved such treachery. No angel had ever foreseen it.

Only these Alien Powers could.

"We know now," Overlord continued, his voice a precise hum of logic, "that Antorus has fallen under their control. Just as they corrupted Pompeyo, they have infected his mind and twisted his soul. By all intents and purposes, Valhalla is no longer ruled by men, gods, or warriors—it is ruled by them."

The room darkened as if the Tower itself responded to his words.

"And they have every reason to hate us," he went on. "We have thwarted three of their major operations: the destruction of the Nightmare Universe, the prevention of Dream of Madness’s escape, and the sealing of the Master before he could emerge from the Dark Dimension."

Silence fell like a shroud.

Each of them understood the weight of that truth.

The Alien Powers were beings who could devour entire civilizations—entities that had survived eons beyond reckoning. They could plot and threaten civilization as the Graecia Empire and Valhallan, and while their arrival in this universe was rare... it was becoming increasingly frequent.

And now, it seemed, their eyes had turned toward Xaos.

Vlad’s expression hardened.

"We need clarity," he said, his voice low but sharp as steel. "Antorus has openly accused us of murdering the Empress. That alone makes it clear that there is no way to prevent a clash. But before we act, we must know who stands beside him. We cannot strike blindly."

The most straightforward path would have been open war—mobilizing the full might of the Xaos Kingdom and crushing Valhalla in a single, catastrophic campaign.

But Vlad knew better.

Even with their two Lord-tier powerhouses—himself and Overlord—Xaos could not wage war on that scale. And though the White Death might have lent aid, the Graecia Empire was still healing from civil war; they could not afford another cosmic conflict.

No. They would not use a hammer. They would use a scalpel.

Strike the head, and the body would die. Cut deep and clean, without the needless loss of billions of innocent lives.

But for that, they needed certainty. They needed to see the truth with their own eyes. Learn the identity of the enemy’s leader, so when they strike, they take all of them down at the same time.

Vlad turned to Freya, Jormungandr, Fafnir, and Ouroboros.

"It’s time," he said quietly. "We return to Valhalla."

Each of them nodded with solemn resolve.

The last time they had ventured there, it had nearly cost them their lives. They had survived only because of the White Death’s protection.

But this time, there would be no guardian. No shield could protect them.

Only enemies waiting in the dark.

One wrong move could mean annihilation.

As the weight of that truth settled, Overlord spoke again.

"Clarity alone will not be enough," he said. "We will also need strength."