Entering Apocalypse in Easy-Mode-Chapter 490: Taking In

Clyde and Asqa began walking in silence, their boots echoing softly against cracked obsidian slabs and ground.

The sky above remained bruised with swirling violet clouds that still churning wildly after Clyde’s battle with Susanoo that time, like a jagged tear hanging perpetually overhead like an unhealed wound.

The air reeked of ozone and salt like storms that had long since died but refused to be forgotten. This domain still remember Susanoo as its master.

They passed beneath a shattered gate, its wood charred and half-split. The remnants of Susanoo’s once-majestic domain were scattered and broken.

Around them were the collapsed pagodas now draped in dirt and blackened vines, courtyards where lightning had once danced now lay flooded with brine, and the statue of the god of storm, snapped at the neck, lay half-submerged in a salt pool, staring lifelessly toward the sky.

"I can sense them," Asqa said, her voice hushed. She looked around slowly. "They are up in the ruins, near the broken palace wings, and somewhere behind that scorched bell tower."

"They’re not showing themselves at all," Clyde muttered, gaze flicking from shadow to shadow. "They’re jiat watching us from afar."

A flicker of movement appeared at the corner of his vision—a figure behind a crumbled pillar—but when he turned, it was gone. Only the echo of breath, or maybe fear, remained.

"Yeah. They must be hiding from us," Asqa murmured with a sigh. "i understand them. We came here last time and killed their master."

Clyde said nothing and juat nodded. They continued walking down a fractured stairway lined with rusted spears jammed into the stone. Water dripped from somewhere above.

"I never thought of this actually," Clyde finally said. "What it would look like to them. We literally killed someone they followed, maybe even loved for those who had spent time here for so long."

Asqa nodded.

"To us, Susanoo was just a tyrant like any otjer higher Being. But to them... he dragged them here and gave them shelter after the Selection. That matters for them."

Clyde stopped. He stared at a broken gate.

"How do we convince these people to follow us when all they remember is the moment we destroyed what they believed in?" Clyde asked with a frown.

Asqa looked up at him. "We show them something better. Not with threats but with clarity. Hope, maybe. That they can live another lives not as slave but somewhat free people again."

He chuckled quietly. "Hope? That’s rare, coming from you."

"It’s because I’ve seen how dangerous we’ve become," she replied calmly. "We don’t get to fix this by power alone anymore now that there were innocent people who had the same fate like us here."

Clyde’s eyes narrowed. "Then I hope they’re willing to listen. Because we can’t waste time on them alone."

---

Meanwhile...

Inside one of the still-standing pagodas with its frame scorched but still stood strong and its paper walls yellowed and brittle, a group of young-looking men and women knelt near the upper floor, peering cautiously through a half-collapsed window.

"The black-coated one... that’s him," a girl whispered. Her long silver hair was tied back tightly, her eyes sharp with barely hidden tension. "That’s the one who stabbed Lord Susanoo with his sword. I saw it in the sky. I’ll never forget it."

"Yeah, and the woman in white—she killed the veteran fighters with green arrows that melt their armor and skin!" a young man added, wide eyed. "We barely got out of there."

"They killed him," someone muttered from the corner. "They looks human but somehow stronger than a Celeatials."

One boy leaned forward. "But then why are they here again? They don’t look like they trying to destroy this domain anymore. They’re... just walking and talking."

"They’re planning something," the silver-haired girl replied coldly. "Maybe they’ve come to finish the rest of us."

"Or maybe not," said an older teen, arms crossed. "Look at them. They don’t look like conquerors now. He looks... thoughtful. She looks calm. Not like the first time."

The room fell quiet.

"But we can’t just trust that. Not after what happened," another voice said, harsh and low. "They killed a Celestial. You think we matter more than him?"

Nobody answered right away. Only the wind, slipping through the cracked walls, dared to speak. Then, quietly, the silver-haired girl said:

"...Maybe we should meet them. Let them say why they’re here. If they mean to talk, we listen. If they mean to fight... we can’t do anything anyway so why not just let them do what they want?"

With a helpless sigh, the others nodded in agreement. They have nowhere to go anyway, nothing to lose.

---

The group touched down in a loose semicircle after flying with their wind skill, boots and talons skidding across the ground.

Twenty in all—young men and women in storm-inscribed robes, an elf with an un-nocked bow, and a pair of wary beast-folk with speartips half-raised. None looked eager for a fight, but fear kept their shoulders rigid.

Clyde lifted an open hand before any wordless challenge could harden into bloodshed.

"We’re not here to fight," he said, voice carrying across the ruined courtyard. "Susanoo is gone. We won’t attack you."

Some of them flinched; others glanced at their companions, searching for courage.

The silver-haired girl stepped forward. "Then why return to a place you already broke?"

"To offer a door," Clyde answered. "There’s a refuge called Sivagadh. No Celestials. No compulsory oaths. It is a place built by survivors from thr Selection Stage—humans, elves, dwarves, beast-folk, everyone the higher beings discarded. You can live there, train there, or just stay there."

A restless murmur happened.

One beastman whispered, "Too convenient."

Asqa spoke next with calm but firm tone.

"We understand that you don’t trust us. We killed the tyrant you served. If you can’t forgive that, fine—but staying here means starvation and who know when this domain will collapse. Follow us and you keep your lives."

The elf with the bow frowned. "And the price? Nothing is given for free."

"Work," Clyde replied. "Defend the place, do some missions and help expand the place with your power. Beyond that, your future is yours."

Silence stretched for few seconds then the silver-haired girl lowered her blade.

"Show us this door."

Others nodded—still wary, but a flicker of desperate hope lit in their eyes.

Clyde turned, creating a portal in the air. Through it shimmered Sivagadh’s sight, faint lanterns and layered districts visible beyond the threshold.

"Step through if you want to," Clyde said.

One by one, the followers exchanged hesitant glances—then the first beastman strode forward, spear lowered.

An elf followed, then two human youths clutching cracked swords.

The silver-haired girl paused before Clyde. "If this is a lie..."

"It isn’t," Clyde answered simply.

She inhaled, squared her shoulders—and crossed the portal.

The rest filed after her until only broken wind and empty ruins remained. Clyde waited until the last figure vanished, then sealed the rift.

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