CHAPTER 73: CHAPTER73-PAY THE GATE FEE OR GET LOST

The Void Zerg of the Sakend Universe had been consigned to history.

Gazing over the Zerg domain, still heavy with the stench of blood, Leo frowned, then drew out a jade vial. A surge of holy light, pure and cleansing, poured forth and swiftly washed this filthy span of starry territory clean.

"The Void Zerg are annihilated. From this day on, their lands belong to my Dalton Town!"

Leo’s voice rolled out across all of Sakend.

Countless factions and living beings were stunned.

News of the Void Zerg’s destruction spread with explosive speed. A race that large vanishing without fanfare was bound to draw attention. The Void Zerg might not have been a top-tier race, but they were by no means weak. To be wiped out while no one was watching—who wouldn’t be alarmed?

"The Void Zerg—those disgusting insects—are gone?!"

"Who did it? Was it some supreme existence?"

"It was that newly emerged power, Dalton! They’ve claimed responsibility for the purge!"

"Dalton?"

"They’ve also declared the Zerg territory their own!"

"The crucial part—Dalton... is a human power!"

That last revelation caused an upheaval even greater than the Zerg’s extermination.

A human force that could casually erase a top predator race? What a joke.

Humans, with power like that? Everyone knew that across Sakend, humans occupied the very bottom rung—barely above creatures without sentience. And now you’re telling me not only have humans stood up, they’ve erased a major race like the Void Zerg?

This shattered the worldview of every being in the Sakend Universe.

Curiosity, skepticism, hostility—countless gazes swung toward the starfield where Dalton lay. Scattered human survivors, struggling in the corners of Sakend, began streaming toward Dalton from all directions.

...

Endless Starfield, a rift in the void.

This was a place of absolute darkness. Viscous demonic miasma rolled between twisted rock walls. The air itself whispered despair. Here laired one of Sakend’s true nightmares—an existence so dreadful that even mighty races avoided mentioning it lightly: the Abyssal Demons.

Within the demon domain’s grand hall, a powerful commander of the demon clan knelt on one knee.

"Most exalted Sovereign! The Zerg of the Sakend Universe have been wiped out!"

Upon the throne, the Abyssal Demon Sovereign Mephisto slowly lifted his head. Deep within his abyssal eyes burned a cold fire of rage. He gazed toward the direction of Dalton Town; even across immeasurable distance, he seemed to sense that aura which made him wary.

He already recognized its source—the mysterious being he had encountered before in that low-magic universe. He hadn’t expected the other party to invade Sakend.

Though that Zerg hive wasn’t truly powerful, it was still stronger than the majority of races in Sakend—yet it had been erased all the same. He had no choice but to take this with utmost seriousness. If he wasn’t careful, his Abyssal Demons might be next.

Until his own strength advanced to the next level, he would not risk stirring up further trouble. Besides, the present enemies were not just that one force...

After a moment of silence, he spoke:

"The Abyssal Demons will withdraw as a clan into the Great Rift to amass power. No one leaves without my permission."

"We obey the Sovereign’s will!"

...

Starfield Wasteland, Dalton.

The city walls towered high; the radiant city-warding arrays and floating rune-towers proclaimed its extraordinary nature. At the gate, the watch was as before: Reize and the same squad of guards. The difference this time was the massive Behemoth at Reize’s side.

Now, both Reize and the Behemoth had reached lesser god rank—no small figures within the Sakend Universe.

"Commander Reize, look!"

"Someone’s coming!"

A guard pointed into the distance.

Lounging against the Behemoth, Reize gave a lazy nod; with his strength, he had sensed the newcomers long ago.

Soon, a group of four-eyed clan members arrived—each with two pairs of eyes and an air of ingrained arrogance. They could not help but be shaken by Dalton Town’s grandeur, but when their gazes fell upon Reize and the gate detail, their faces immediately showed their trademark contempt.

"Hmph!"

"Humans really are an inferior race. A divine city like this, and all they can spare is a mere lesser god rank to hold the gate?"

"Oh, and a lesser god rank Behemoth? Consorting with humans, no less..."

"Looks like Dalton is nothing but a bluff!"

Their mockery was unrestrained.

In their view, when faced with the probing of myriad races, humans would surely put on a display of strength to deter trouble. A lesser god rank human and a lesser god rank Behemoth might be experts across Sakend at large, but compared to the vast power blocs of the myriad races, they were laughably weak.

The four-eyed leader released the pressure of a Divine Oracle—not an attack, but a show of haughty superiority, meant to make a point: If even a mere envoy like me is Divine Oracle, imagine the might of the race behind me. Consider carefully whether you dare cross us, you frail humans.

Reize, however, had no intention of humoring him.

The moment that oppressive aura approached the city gate, it sank like a stone into the sea and vanished. The Behemoth cracked an eyelid, then went back to dozing.

Reize’s voice cut through the air, cold and flat.

"Entry requires a fee.

Don’t pay—get lost."

His gaze was blade-sharp. A dense, crushing aura erupted and blasted the four-eyed leader backward on the spot. In Reize’s hand, a colossal warblade swung to lock onto the envoy, killing intent surging.

The four-eyed delegation went rigid. They could feel it—death, an imminent and very real threat.

"W—we’ll enter the city!"

"One million aetherite per head," Reize quoted.

"What?! Why not just rob us outright?!"

"Two million."

"You—!"

Reize’s killing intent spiked.

In the end, the leader paid the two million aetherite. He had no choice. He was on a mission. If he went back and reported that he hadn’t even gotten past the gate, he would become a laughingstock. No matter. Once the powerhouses of the myriad races arrived, he wanted to see how these humans planned to cough up what they had swallowed.

He was already calculating how to file the reimbursement—and perhaps divert those funds to himself.

Just then, another figure appeared at the foot of the city.

A human man.

His clothes were ragged, his body barely covered with coarse animal hides, old scars crisscrossing his skin. Long-term malnutrition had left him gaunt, but in his eyes burned a fierce will to live. A faint pulse of energy seeped from him—in a world as brutally Darwinian as Sakend, surviving this long was a miracle in itself.

His name was Bais, a human drifter scraping by at the very bottom.

He lifted his head. When he beheld the colossal city rising like a myth from ancient legend, he froze where he stood.