The Uvall shown in the videos no longer looked human.
With massive wings sprouting from his back and sharp horns jutting from his head, he resembled a true devil from hell.
His appearance alone threw countless netizens into panic.
Doomsday believers proclaid that the invasion of hell had already begun—that the end of mankind was at hand.
What made it worse was Uvall’s bold declaration: he would conquer the entire world and enslave all humanity.
The statent ignited a storm online.
Many dismissed him as delusional, swollen with arrogance. But few could deny what the footage revealed—his strength was terrifyingly real.
On Thousand Lanterns Island, the country Uvall’s attack, the military had unleashed a barrage of missiles. Explosions tore through the skies, yet when the smoke cleared, Uvall’s body remained unscathed. Not even the skin was broken. The most advanced thermal weaponry was utterly useless against him.
And his power was not limited to defense. With every human he killed, he could raise the corpse as a demon servant, swelling his ranks and strengthening his grip.
If no one intervened, it was not unthinkable that he might truly conquer the world.
Panic buying gripped foreign nations. Prices soared overnight.
Dostically, strict controls prevented the chaos from spreading, but fear still lingered.
At the sa ti, Fenric’s rise of ranking beca a hot topic online, flooding the trending searches.
Discussions about Shura—his alias—erupted everywhere.
"The Great God Shura is unbelievable!"
"He’s ranked sixth, but that’s without his special item. If he equips it, his strength would skyrocket!"
"With that item, I bet he could reach S-rank instantly."
"No way, S-rank isn’t that easy. Maybe his current sixth place already includes it."
"Don’t forget, he got a super-god evaluation in the One Piece dungeon. I wonder what Devil Fruit he was rewarded with."
"Rumor says it’s the Tremor Fruit."
"What?! Whitebeard’s power? If that’s true, it’s insane!"
"I heard Shura’s real identity is a high school student."
"You really believe that? Soone with nerves of steel like him? Impossible. To survive in Samsara Tower takes a mind like tempered iron, not a teenager’s."
"True, but whoever he is, he’s risen. Shura’s already one of the country’s top experts."
Shura should have dominated today’s trending searches. But last night’s chaos was too overwhelming: the hell invasion, Uvall’s teoric rise toward S-rank, the war that devastated half the Thousand Lanterns Island.
Compared to these crises, Shura’s exploits were drowned out.
The hell dinsion’s appearance, and Uvall’s rise with it, cast a shadow over the entire world.
Online, petitions spread—pleas for Samsara’s masters to unite, to slay Uvall, and to seal the gates of hell before more land was swallowed.
Fenric scrolled through the posts, his brows furrowing.
As a human, he longed for peace. He had no ambition for global domination; his goal was singular—to climb the Samsara Tower, to reach its highest floors, and to see the view from the realm of the gods.
For that, the real world needed to remain stable. Chaos only created distractions.
But the ergence of the hell dinsion unsettled him deeply.
He had faced its creatures before. Their power was monstrous.
If hell truly launched a full invasion, humans would stand little chance.
He was not the only one worried.
Far away, in the Capital of Jadeveil, the nation’s core leaders gathered.
Inside a vast conference hall, n and won over forty, their presence sharp and commanding, filled the room. Many bore gray hair and weary lines, but their authority was undeniable. These were giants—people whose decisions shaped the fate of millions.
A heavy silence pressed over the chamber. Everyone seed to be waiting.
At last, the doors opened.
An elderly man entered, his aura strong despite the exhaustion etched into his face.
The room rose as one, every leader standing in respect.
The old man raised a hand and smiled faintly. "Forgive . The world conference just concluded. I’ve kept you waiting."
Imdiately, voices echoed:
"Not at all—you’ve worked too hard."
"You haven’t slept since last night, sir. Please take care of your health."
"Yes, we can’t afford you to push yourself too much."
He waved them down and took his seat. Only then did the others follow suit.
"Since everyone is here, let’s begin."
He sipped his tea, clearing his throat. "First matter: the Thousand Lanterns Island has requested aid."
"Oh?" one official asked with a thin smile. "And what conditions do they offer?"
The old man sighed. "They say negotiations can wait."
The chamber erupted in scoffs and laughter. None here were naive enough to believe such empty promises.
"Enough," the old man said, silencing them with a look. "Report on the hell dinsion. What is the current status?"
A white-coated elder stood and bowed slightly. "The spatial rift has stabilized. No further invasions for now."
"And dostically? Our casualties?"
"Nine fusion points appeared nationwide. Preliminary reports list 1,169 confird dead and 3,371 missing. Direct economic losses are still under calculation."
The old man’s face darkened.
The numbers already placed this among the gravest disasters in history.
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