The battlefield was littered with carnage, hundreds of massive Zulcans hung impaled on spears and halberds, their grotesque bodies sprawled across the blood-soaked earth in the hundreds.
A lone figure stood calmly atop his horse amid the carnage, Prince Ivan.
He seed utterly unfazed, his gaze distant, as if rely waiting for sothing... or soone.
His soldiers occasionally stole uneasy glances at the impaled Zulcans, their expressions caught sowhere between morbid fascination and disbelief.
Gloop... Gloop... Glooop...
The distant sound of hundreds of hooves echoed across the field.
Monts later, Princess Zina appeared, leading her troops.
Her expression darkened the mont her eyes landed on her brother, already standing proudly atop his horse like he had all the ti in the world.
She knew he must have heard the news long before she did.
For him to arrive from such a distance ahead of her... it wasn’t by coincidence.
Zina frowned as she reached Ivan’s position.
He didn’t even glance at her, still sitting there as if she didn’t exist.
"Are you looking for war, Ivan? Transversing into my territory without permission?" she asked sharply, irritation flashing in her eyes.
Ivan tilted his head lazily, lips curling into a smirk. "Is that really how you greet your beloved brother who ca all this way just to visit?"
Zina’s jaw tightened. "Visit? With an army?"
Before their sibling squabble could escalate, the ground began to tremble.
The shaking started softly but grew stronger by the second.
From the horizon, a third force appeared, an army a thousand strong.
At its head rode a man dressed in flowing light-green robes, exuding calm authority.
When he reached the two, both Zina and Ivan inclined their heads slightly.
"Crown Prince," they greeted.
The man gave a faint nod and said nothing, positioning himself beside them on his horse, silent and composed.
Zina’s frown deepened, worry flashing in her eyes.
With Ivan, she had confidence she could win.
But the Crown Prince... that was another matter entirely.
Still, she wasn’t surprised.
Ragnar’s position as Crown Prince was due only to his birth as the eldest, but even so, the title ca with its share of privileges.
The most important of which, people followed him simply because of it.
Among the three of them, his army was by far the largest.
Zina and Ivan both fell silent, lost in thought as they considered their chances against their eldest brother.
No matter how they ran the scenarios in their heads, the result always tilted in Ragnar’s favor.
Their gazes drifted toward his army, thousands of soldiers, most in the mid-stage of the Qi Cultivation Realm, so even at its peak.
Then they looked back at their own forces, barely numbering a few hundred.
The two exchanged a look. For the first ti, they shared the sa unwillingness.
anwhile, the Crown Prince sat silently on his horse, eyes sweeping across the battlefield.
The Zulcans’ bodies were still impaled, most through their heads.
Their grotesque faces were frozen in terror, pain, and despair.
As Ragnar continued his silent observation, faint vibrations rippled through the ground once more.
Bugogum... Bugogum... Bugogum...
A monstrous hound burst into view, its paws shaking the ground.
Behind it rolled a single black carriage, pulled effortlessly despite its massive fra.
The creature ca to a sudden stop before the gathered royals.
and for the first ti, Ragnar’s calm expression twisted slightly.
"...Asuras," he muttered under his breath.
When the carriage stopped, two figures stepped out.
Their skin was white as snow, and both were bald, identical in appearance.
They looked human, except for the hollow holes where their noses should have been.
Not a trace of Qi emanated from them, no aura, no presence.
One of them raised a hand.
The ring on his finger glowed, and in an instant, both the carriage and hound vanished into it.
Then, without a word, the two Asuras stood still, silent, and utterly indifferent to the nobles before them.
The Crown Prince straightened his back and forced a courteous smile.
"Greetings. I am Ragnar, the Crown Prince of Tircan and the Titans." he said, extending a hand.
The Asuras didn’t so much as glance at him. They stood still, completely ignoring his gesture.
Zina and Ivan, who had been preparing to greet the newcors, imdiately reconsidered.
After seeing how Ragnar was treated, they decided to maintain their dignity and stayed seated on their horses.
A vein bulged on Ragnar’s forehead, but he didn’t dare lashing out, he lowered his hand and smiled faintly.
His expression darkened as he turned his horse around.
He knew the Asuras hadn’t co for pleasantries.
They were here for Aron.
And with them present, his chances of claiming Aron for himself had just dropped drastically.
Even so, he didn’t leave.
Aron was far too valuable to give up on.
Across the battlefield, the gathered forces waited in silence for the man who had caused all this carnage to appear.
But what none of them knew... was that Aron had already left the realm long ago.
...
..
.
Author note:
If you’ve read this far, then it’s clear you’re loving the journey just as much as I enjoy writing it.
But here’s the truth: stories don’t grow on their own. They grow because of you, the readers who stand beside them. And on Webnovel, your Powerstones, Golden ticket and engagent are the heartbeat that keeps a novel alive. Each support you cast isn’t just a number on a chart. It’s a signal that you want more, that you believe Aron’s story deserves to climb higher, to reach more people, to carve its na into the rankings where it belongs.
Your encouragent decides the pace of this journey. Together, we can push this story through the chaos, step by step, one stone, one ticket, one Chapter at a ti.
So thank you, for every stone, every ticket, every mont you’ve given this story. You are the reason Aron’s world lives and grows.
Let’s walk through the apocalypse together.
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