Beyond the Apocalypse Chapter 720: Making history (I)

"DEATH!"

With that single word, Marshal Maximo surged forward like an avalanche of divine wrath, his body a living cataclysm tearing through space and ti. He raced ahead with the unstoppable montum of a storm that could shatter continents and level mountains.

"DEATH! DEATH! DEATH! DEATH! DEATH! DEATH! DEATH! DEATH!"

The Legends roared in unison, their voices shaking the sky as they followed Marshal Maximo toward the Void Heart Fortress—the dark bastion at the center of the war and the source of the enemy’s power.

With every step, the very earth cracked and splintered beneath them, as though an earthquake marched beside them. The battlefield trembled beneath the weight of history in motion.

As the forces of Graecia stord forward, the Void Heart Fortress began to glow. Massive waves of otherworldly energy pulsed outward from its black towers, illuminating the twilight sky with sickly hues of purple and red.

Months ago, at the war’s beginning, the entire fortress had been encased in a massive force field, rendering it impenetrable. But now, after countless battles and devastating losses, the city’s energy reserves had dwindled significantly.

The barrier had shrunk, leaving only the walls and main structures reinforced. They were more durable than ever—but not invincible.

Yet this energy was not just for defense.

As the Legends approached the outer periter, dozens of Vorotallicae Legends erged from the gates—massive figures clad in jagged armor and reinforced with the fortress’s dark energy.

Each one of them was a formidable Legend, with the power to make cities tremble under their might. Their presence turned the battlefield into a volatile crucible of strength and fury.

Marshal Maximo’s eyes locked onto a monstrous figure standing atop the outer wall. It had four arms, and each one crackled with raw, condensed power.

That was none other than Kutun, Supre Leader of the Void Heart Fortress. Once a terror on the Eclipse Battlefield, he had suffered a brutal defeat at the hands of Marshal Maximo and Spartacus, losing two arms in the clash. But now they were regrown, twisted with unnatural energy—regenerated through dark ans, no doubt at a terrible cost.

Maximo did not hesitate. He roared and leaped, eting Kutun in the skies above the fortress walls, before crashing back into the ground, shattering the earth beneath them.

Fist t blade. Sword t steel. The clash between them sent shockwaves rippling through the battlefield, arcs of lightning crackling in every direction. Their duel was monuntal—a core around which the chaos of the war revolved.

But it was only one piece of the storm.

Elsewhere, Spartacus warped the very fabric of space itself, seeking the weakest point in the fortress walls. His sword glead with divine fury as he closed in—but just before impact, two Vorotallicae defenders erged, wielding dominion over the Laws of Space and Gravity.

Their control over the Laws was weaker than his, but together they created enough interference to stall him, locking him in a duel of wills and raw power.

Vlad observed it all—Maximo halted, Spartacus restrained, and across the battlefield, every Legend from Graecia was being held back. The Vorotallicae forces were throwing everything they had to stop them from reaching the walls.

A cold fury surged through Vlad’s veins, a chilling tide of killing intent. His eyes narrowed as he sensed sothing approaching—one of the enemy’s Legendary warriors, this one with blades in place of arms, charged at him with a speed that split the air.

The attacker wasn’t a high-level threat, perhaps barely at Level 24, one of the lowest thresholds of Legendary power.

And yet, he ca for Vlad—misjudging him, assuming his presence in the lower tier of the Legendary aura ant he was weak.

That would be his final mistake.

"Die," Vlad whispered.

With that single word, his soul ignited. His heartbeat thundered like war drums across the field, and an ocean of wrathful energy exploded outward from his core. In that mont, his hidden power erupted—his three Divine Treasures, cloaked until now, flared into existence.

First, the crocked crown, pulsing with energy, surged the True Depravita’s energy pool to Level 25. Then, his body grew, bulking with demonic muscle as two new arms erged from his sides. A mantle of dark skin spread over him like a second armor, veined of psychic power that pulsed with the might of wrath.

The bladed Vorotallicae Legend saw this transformation and froze in horror. Realizing the gravity of his misjudgnt, he tried to retreat. But it was far too late.

A sphere materialized in Vlad’s palm, expanding across the battlefield. Space thickened, ti warped, and movent faltered. Within that sphere, Vlad’s mastery over the Law of Space surged exponentially, giving him absolute control.

"ZNNNNNN!"

The sound of space folding echoed like a scream across reality.

In an instant, The Depravita of Wrath dashed forward, his four arms taking the form of piercing blades. He struck with surgical precision, slicing through the Vorotallic foe with overwhelming force. The enemy’s body split in two, his soul annihilated before he could even cry out.

Silence fell—just for a mont.

Then a wave of awe and horror rippled across the battlefield.

Marshal Maximo grinned, a wide, savage smile of approval. Spartacus’ eyes glead with admiration. The soldiers of Graecia roared with renewed fervor. One of their own had just killed a Legendary enemy in a single, decisive move.

On the other side, the Vorotallicae forces recoiled in fury. Yes, it had been a mistake, a mont of carelessness. But it had consequences. The loss shattered their composure and emboldened the enemy.

Vlad, eyes blazing, turned toward the fortress walls. With the enemy lines broken near him, he raced forward and reached the cracked section of the wall. Without hesitation, he began hamring it with every ounce of his newfound power.

"ARRRGHHHHH!"

Each punch shook the fortress, sending tremors through the towers. His fists, reinforced by the explosive gems embedded in the backs of his hands, struck like teors. Cracks expanded with every blow, black stone splintering and groaning as the Void Heart Fortress’s walls trembled under the onslaught of the Depravita of Wrath.