Beyond the Apocalypse-Chapter 1088: The fate of Valhalla

Silence reigned across the empty dimension that had once held the Primordial Gods’ Tomb.

Brightkin, Orkin, and Ankil stood frozen, their eyes locked on the gargantuan corpse of Dream of Madness drifting through the void. The monstrous Empyrean floated lifeless and still.

"We... won."

Brightkin could barely believe the words leaving his mouth. Just seconds earlier, they had been preparing for death, ready to burn their souls in a final, futile struggle.

"Go! Help Merlin!"

The White Death’s roar shattered their stunned silence. The three Sovereigns snapped out of their daze instantly.

Merlin had suffered the most devastating injuries of them all. The Obsidian Dragon King’s body had been split in half. The only reason he remained alive was the ancient runic formation anchoring his life force and soul to the rest of the Sovereigns. That shared bond was the last thread keeping him from true death.

But even that miracle had its limits.

They had no time to waste.

The trio nodded toward the White Death and immediately flashed forward. Drawing upon every resource, artifact, and fragment of power they possessed, they began reassembling Merlin’s shattered form. Arcane light surged across the void as broken flesh was fused, fractured bones were restored, and the fragile connection between body and soul was stabilized.

Slowly—painfully—the Obsidian Dragon King’s condition steadied.

The White Death allowed himself a faint smile as he felt Merlin’s heart begin to beat again.

Of course, survival was only the first step. Full recovery would require immense resources and time. But with the wealth and influence of the Six Sun Alliance, restoring Merlin to his peak was not impossible.

Only then did the White Death allow his own strength to fade.

The moment he relaxed, darkness swallowed him.

The final clash with Dream of Madness had left his body and soul severely wounded. Worse still, using Grave of Infinity at the last moment had triggered a catastrophic backlash that tore through his very essence.

Yet even as unconsciousness claimed him, a wide smile remained on his face.

They had succeeded.

They had defeated an Empyrean.

---

Valhalla had once been a realm of glory and power.

It was a land of endless battle and honor, where strength defined worth and legends were forged in blood and steel. Even after the rise of Antorus as Emperor and the corruption of the ancient totems, the realm had remained majestic—a harsh but beautiful world shaped by the spirit of the Viking race.

Now, that world was gone.

Corruption stretched across Valhalla without end.

The land was dry and cracked, its soil blackened and lifeless. Forests had grown into grotesque parodies of their former selves—trees towering higher than mountains, their bark split open by enormous eyes and gnashing maws. The beasts that once roamed proudly across the plains had transformed into twisted abominations, their forms warped by alien influence.

Even the laws of reality had begun to change.

Above a vast, sickly green ocean stood a colossal humanoid figure. Massive horns curved from his head, and his presence alone distorted the space around him.

The Master.

He sat in deep meditation, acting as a living catalyst for the Alien Force. Through him, that power spread outward across the void, mutating every world connected to the ancient homeland of the Viking race.

But he was not alone.

Resting lightly upon his shoulder was a hooded figure. Its form was small and thin, its face hidden beneath shadow. Only the writhing tentacles emerging from its sleeves and hood hinted at its true nature.

Suddenly, the Master’s eyes opened.

For the briefest instant, shock crossed his face—an emotion rarely seen on someone like him.

He gazed into the distance, his expression turning solemn.

"Dream of Madness is dead."

The hooded figure jerked upright, horror trembling in its voice.

"Impossible! The Lord was an Empyrean. Its power placed it at the very top of existence. Other than you, no one should have been capable of defeating it."

The Master glanced at the creature before slowly shaking his head.

"This place is dangerous. There are countless singularities and unpredictable variables. Besides... Dream of Madness had been sealed for far too long. Its power was inevitably diminished."

The Alien Lord paused, letting out a low sigh.

"I had hoped it would free itself completely. It seems I was too optimistic. Without its power, the spread of our domain will become significantly more difficult."

For a moment, countless calculations and possibilities flashed through the Master’s mind. Then his gaze sharpened, resolve forming.

"It seems we can no longer wait for our preparations to be completed."

He turned toward the hooded figure.

"It is time for you to act."

The creature bowed deeply.

A dark, ominous aura began to rise from its body.

---

Heaven had suffered catastrophic destruction under the fury of the True Depravita of Wrath.

Entire lower levels had been blasted apart. Millions of angels had perished. Dozens of Divine Kingdoms had been shattered into fragments.

And yet, within only a few short years, almost all traces of that devastation had been erased.

Under the guidance of Heaven’s highest authorities, the realms were rebuilt. New angels evolved and ascended, filling the empty ranks. Fresh Gods took the place of those who had fallen.

To an outside observer, it would seem as if nothing had ever happened.

But one loss could not be replaced.

The death of an Archangel.

Naomi had been the weakest among Heaven’s Archangels, but her Gift had been a weapon of immense strategic value—one Heaven had relied upon countless times to eliminate powerful enemies.

Now, that weapon was gone forever.

Deep within the most sacred and hidden region of Heaven, five figures gathered.

Each possessed magnificent wings that radiated divine authority. Yet their expressions were solemn, their auras heavy with restrained fury.

The Archangel of Death stood at their center.

Lucifer’s eyes glowed with a cold, merciless light—one that promised absolute annihilation.

"The might of Heaven has been defied," he said slowly. "The reconstruction is complete."

His aura intensified as killing intent spread through the chamber like a silent storm.

"Now... it is time for retribution."

The air itself grew colder as his voice hardened.

"We will remind the universe why all creation bows its head when it speaks the name of Heaven."

---

End of Book 11 - Universal Public Enemy N°1