Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse novel Chapter 5683

Chapter 5683: Ten Nanoseconds! I

<THE Creature>

A Dimension about to change hands holds its breath heavily.

The burning skies of THE Vhelgaros hung low and red over a plain of cracked black stone that stretched across an entire Observable Existence, and upon that plain, two armies faced each other in a silence so heavy that even the wind had chosen a side and stopped moving!

On one side stood the army of THE Creature.

Hundreds of Primeval Ones floated in loose, grand formations behind him, titans of bone and Ego and petrified starlight, generals and soldiers alike gathered across multiple Observable Existences under the banner of a single masked figure wreathed in obsidian and white-gold flames.

They had knelt to him one by one across this campaign, some through defeat and some through awe, and every one of them now watched their Great Ruler hover at the front of their formation with the calm of a being who had never once needed to raise his voice to be obeyed!

And on the other side... stood the monsters of the old order!

The seated ruler’s army sprawled across the horizon, and it was a stranger army by far, because Primevals and Descendants stood mixed within it, the bred children of THE Immense Ones marching beside the ancient titans they usually scorned, unified beneath a single monstrous bloodline!

At their head towered the ruler of THE Vhelgaros.

Ghurvakh, THE Horned Sovereign!

He was a mountain of cursed majesty!

His massive body stood hunched and coiled with terrifying power, gnarled arms thick as fortress pillars hanging low, a heavy tail of plated muscle dragging furrows through the black stone behind him.

Horns erupted from everywhere upon him, curling from his skull, his shoulders, his spine, his forearms, a forest of cracked golden horn that had grown wild across Ages, and beneath the horns his flesh was grey and ancient and carved with old glowing wounds that had never fully agreed to close. An omen given a throne. A curse that had out-lived everything that cursed it!

And beside him stood his wife.

Descendant Ilvexa carried the same monstrous grammar in a leaner frame, her horns sweeping back from her skull in long elegant curves of black gold, her hunched shoulders draped in imperial silks that no tailor had ever designed for a body like hers, her clawed hands folded with a courtly grace that made the monstrousness more unsettling rather than less.

She was a Descendant of THE Immense Ones who had been born an omen and had made the omen regal, and her burning eyes held the only thing on that entire side of the battlefield that resembled caution!

THE Creature looked at the two of them and understood the arrangement of this Dimension in a single glance. A Primeval One of terrifying depth, and a Descendant whose lineage kept the architects’ favor flowing. Power married to permission. A monopoly with horns!

And above all of it... existence itself had come to watch!

Two eyes hung in the burning sky.

They were not clouds and they were not suns. They were gazes, vast and lidless, pressed through the firmament from somewhere unfathomably far above, each one large enough to reflect the entire battlefield in its depths, and every lifeform on the plain below could feel the weight of their attention crawling across their existence like the shadow of something too large to have a shape!

Waves of information bloomed across the whole Dimension, cascading into the minds of every Primeval and Descendant present, for the Ruling wished ALL of its audience informed!

|Two of THE Immense Ones have turned their gazes upon THE Narrative of Existence: The Grand Succession.|

|THE CACKLING BUTCHER has arrived to spectate. It adores successions. It adores them best when they are wet.|

|THE STARVING CONNOISSEUR has arrived to spectate. It has consumed the endings of ten thousand dynasties and declares most of them bland. It hopes, without much optimism, that this one will have flavor.|

...!

The two gazes were nothing alike, and everyone beneath them could feel it!

The eye on the left trembled constantly with something that could only be called mirth, its vast iris quivering the way a throat quivers around laughter that never ends, and the pressure that rolled off it was hot and eager and horribly festive, as though slaughter were a holiday and it had arrived early to get a good seat!

|THE CACKLING BUTCHER looks forward to the bloodbath!|

|THE STARVING CONNOISSEUR reminds the participants that anticipation is the finest seasoning, and that they are taking too long.|

"A Great Ruler does not watch and lead all his people to a massacre if he can prevent it," THE Creature declared. "Leave our armies behind, as you and I can duke it out. Winner takes fuckin all."

BOOM!

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