[The Seventh Volu: Fall of the Asuras]
Shen Ze, the star system housing so of the mighty Legendary Rank powerhouses that once had an orderly and peaceful civil war, was now in absolute chaos.
There were three major zones in Shen Ze. One belonged to the Evure God Clan, another to the Central Alliance, and the last to the Asura God Clan.
The center was neutral, but due to the escalation of the civil war between the Evures and the Asuras, they were now involved.
The death of Lysander, the second prince of the Asuras, was of utmost significance, as it sparked the entire conflict.
The Asuras, angered by his death, invaded the Evure God Clan.
Then, two important mbers of the Evure God Clan—the rebel Jacqueline and one of the major pillars, Roy—were kidnapped.
The Evure God Clan believed the Asuras were responsible and demanded their return, offering to stop the war in exchange. However, the Asuras denied any involvent.
Furious, the Evure God Clan launched a full-scale attack, and the Asuras retaliated.
This prompted the recruitnt of mbers from the Central Alliance, as both powerhouses were wary of an attack from the Alliance while they were at their weakest.
For a period, both sides used assassination, trickery, deceit, and force to recruit Central Alliance mbers.
If the center attempted retaliation, both clans would simultaneously attack, resulting in mutual destruction.
Thus, the leader of the Central Alliance, the Qing i Sect, issued a notice allowing the major houses to join either of the two clans as they wished.
The Qing i Sect did not involve itself in the war between the Asuras and Evures. Instead, it gathered the smaller houses of the alliance for protection. The Asuras and Evures were fine with this arrangent, as they did not see the Qing i Sect and the smaller houses as a significant threat—at least, that was their opinion. They were unaware of the true situation.
More than a century had passed, and Jacqueline and Roy's whereabouts were still unknown. Their life tablets showed they were alive, but their location remained a mystery.
The Evure God Clan was furious, and the Asura God Clan bore the brunt of their anger, as evidenced by the destruction of nearly 30% of their territory.
Both powerhouses were on equal footing, unable to claim the other's territory. They could only destroy and retreat. Once a territory was destroyed, it could not be restored.
On a larger scale, this was the state of the war. Anyone could discern this much, and even the Qing i Sect had given Lith similar information.
However, this wasn't enough.
Having experienced multiple situations, Lith wanted information from the ground level.
As a result, he didn't go straight to the Qing i Sect upon arriving in Shen Ze. Instead, he entered Asura territory and decided to visit the nearest world to assess the situation firsthand.
Currently, he was in a desert, walking toward the nearest settlent. His clothes, resembling those of a wandering nomad, were dusty from the sand in the air.
The sun blazed in the bright sky, and in a world bathed in yellow, the King Rank Vampire could feel his lanin-deprived skin begin to burn.
Lith could fly to the settlent whenever he wished, and judging by the surroundings, there were no immortals living in this world. However, he wanted to stay low and experience life as a common man.
After walking for thirty minutes in the scorching heat, Lith finally reached the settlent.
Lith approached the settlent with slow, deliberate steps, his eyes scanning the area.
Dusty, makeshift houses scattered haphazardly across the barren land, constructed from crumbling stone and twisted tal. The buildings leaned against each other for support, as if struggling to stay upright against ti and neglect.
The air was thick with the scent of rust and decay, a mixture of old stone and dry earth.
A few figures moved about in the distance, their clothes ragged and their faces hardened by years of struggle. So shuffled through the market square, where a handful of stalls still stood, though the goods they offered were few and far between—sparse, half-rotten vegetables, dried ats, and a few other unrecognizable items.
The lively chatter of a typical market was long gone, replaced by a heavy silence that lingered in the air, as if the entire settlent was holding its breath.
Lith's gaze then shifted to the center of the village, where an old well stood.
The stone edges were cracked, and the water inside shimred faintly, but it was clear that the source was running low. A group of people huddled near it, filling up containers with the last of the precious water, their movents quick and frantic. The sense of urgency was palpable, as though everyone knew that it wouldn't be long before the well dried up completely.
A few people walked by with strange, alien-like beasts at their sides—creatures with long, muscular limbs and eyes that seed too intelligent for their wild appearance. The beasts were tad, but they moved restlessly, as if even they could sense the impending disaster.
Their presence here felt like an attempt at survival, a last-ditch effort to hold on to sothing that still had so semblance of life.
The ruins spoke of a once-thriving community—there were remnants of old, grand buildings, now reduced to rubble, and streets that once bustled with life, now eerily quiet.
It was clear that sothing had ravaged this place before, and that sothing was about to strike again. Lith felt a weight in the air, the tension of a storm brewing on the horizon, one that would tear through what little remained. Despite the devastation, the people here weren't giving up. They moved with purpose, as if their stubborn will to survive could sohow keep the settlent alive a little longer.
But the signs were clear. The ti they had left was running out.
The wind howled through the barren streets of the settlent, kicking up dust that stung the eyes and clung to the skin.
Lith wandered through the makeshift market, his eyes scanning the faces of the people as they went about their tasks.
It was there, by a broken cart where a few old crates were stacked, that he found them: a young boy, barely into his teens, an older man hunched over with a cane, and a middle-aged man sitting with his head bowed, his hands resting limply on his lap.
The boy's eyes were full of fire, brimming with a spark Lith hadn't seen in many of the others here. He was talking eagerly, almost desperately, to the older man, his voice full of hope, as though the world hadn't yet crushed it out of him.
"Grandpa, we can't just wait here! We need to do sothing!" the boy said, his small fists clenched in determination. "The others—they're coming! We have to be ready!"
The old man, leaning heavily on his cane, looked down at him with tired eyes. His once-sharp gaze now seed clouded with years of struggle, of battles lost. "And what do you expect to do, boy?" he asked, his voice rough and tired. "What can any of us do? The world is broken. This place… it's a graveyard of dreams. It's too late."
"But we can't give up!" the boy's voice trembled slightly, but there was strength in it. He took a step forward, his eyes burning with a passionate fire. "We can still rebuild! We can take back what's ours!"
The old man gave a long, weary sigh. He slowly sank down to sit on a crate, his hand rubbing his forehead. "I've seen it all, boy. You're not the first to dream of a better world. You think you're the only one who's had hope? I've fought for this place, bled for it, lost everything for it. And here we are, still broken, still waiting for sothing that will never co." His voice cracked, the weight of his words heavy with years of disappointnt.
The middle-aged man sitting a little ways off lifted his head slightly, his expression distant, as if the world around him no longer held any aning. His clothes were tattered, and there was a hollow emptiness in his gaze that seed to stare through everything.
"Don't waste your ti, kid," the middle-aged man muttered, his voice low and bitter. "Hope doesn't fix anything. It doesn't change anything. It just hurts when it gets shattered." He looked up at the boy with a gaze that was both sad and resigned. "I was like you once. Full of dreams. But look at us. Nothing changes. The world will co for us. And when it does, there won't be anything left to save."
The boy's face faltered for a mont, but the fire in his eyes refused to die. He stepped toward the middle-aged man, his voice shaking but determined. "But what if you're wrong? What if we can still fight back? We still have a chance to win, don't we?"
The old man snorted, shaking his head. "You really don't get it, do you? The fight is over. All that's left now is to survive as long as we can."
"No," the boy said, his voice rising, "We can't just survive. We have to live. We have to keep fighting, or what was the point of all this? What was the point of all the sacrifices?"
There was a long, heavy silence. The old man stared at the boy, his face a mixture of sadness and pity. The middle-aged man closed his eyes, his hands trembling slightly as he gripped the edge of his seat.
"You're wasting your breath, boy," the middle-aged man said, his voice soft but laced with exhaustion. "You'll see soon enough. The world doesn't care about you. It doesn't care about any of us."
The boy's eyes were wide, as if the words were sinking in, but they only made him more resolute. He turned back to the old man. "Grandpa, you've seen the worst of it, I know. But that doesn't an it's all over. You didn't stop fighting, did you? Even when it seed hopeless?"
The old man's face softened slightly. He didn't answer right away, as though the question had stirred sothing deep within him. Finally, he spoke in a quieter voice, more reflective. "Fighting… fighting is all I've ever done. But sotis, you fight so long, so hard, that you forget why you started. You start to wonder if it was all worth it. And you start thinking maybe, just maybe… it's ti to stop."
The boy shook his head, his voice stronger now. "I don't care how hard it gets. I'll fight. I'll fight for all of us. Because if we stop now, then it's really over."
The old man's gaze softened, and for a brief mont, sothing in his eyes seed to flicker—an old ember, still warm, still alive. He didn't say anything, but the silence between them carried a new weight. It wasn't agreent, but it was sothing else—a quiet understanding.
The middle-aged man looked at the boy, then at the old man. His lips parted, but he didn't speak. His eyes were lost, distant, as if he was trapped in the sa place he'd been for too long, unable to escape the emptiness.
Lith watched the exchange from a distance, sensing the heaviness in the air. It was a struggle between the past, the present, and the future.
The old man, worn by ti, was holding onto the remnants of a dream that had long since died.
The middle-aged man had already given up, his soul fractured by too many battles. But the boy—he still had fire. Still had hope. Still had sothing worth fighting for.
Lith approached the trio quietly, his footsteps barely stirring the sand beneath him.
The boy, standing on the ground, was drawing crude lines in the dirt with a stick, his face alight with youthful determination. The old man leaned against a crumbling wall, his weathered features heavy with exhaustion, while the middle-aged man sat hunched nearby, staring blankly ahead.
"It'll be fine," his calm, steady voice broke the tense quiet.
All three turned toward the source of the voice.
Lith stood a few feet away, his loose, dust-covered clothes masking the powerful build beneath. He stepped closer, his presence commanding yet unassuming.
The boy's sharp eyes followed Lith as he reached out and ruffled his hair without warning. "What makes you so sure?" the boy asked, his tone more curious than defiant.
The old man grunted, narrowing his eyes at Lith. "Words an nothing here," he muttered, his voice rough with years of disappointnt. "Not when he's coming."
Lith's gaze shifted to the old man, unflinching. "Who's 'he'?" he asked, his tone asured.
The old man sighed deeply, pointing a bony finger toward the altar in the center of the settlent.
"Wait long enough, and you'll see him for yourself," he said. "He cos for our souls. Always does."
At the ntion of him, the middle-aged man began trembling visibly, his hands clutching at his knees.
"There's no stopping him," he muttered, his voice cracking. "No hope. He'll destroy everything. Like before. Like always."
"Shut up," the boy snapped, his small fists tightening. "We can fight back! We will fight back!"
The old man shook his head bitterly, his voice sharp and weary.
"You're young. You don't know the weight of losing everything over and over again. This isn't a story where the good guys win."
The boy's defiance wavered for a mont, but Lith spoke again, his voice calm and sure. "Stay strong," he said, glancing at the boy before looking at the two older n.
"Sotis, that's enough."
The old man grumbled under his breath, but his sharp retort faded when Lith's attention shifted to the altar. Its weathered, cracked surface bore strange, foreboding symbols, glowing faintly as the sun began to set. The air around it seed unnaturally still, heavy with an unspoken threat.
Lith moved closer, his broad figure cutting through the lingering tension. He stopped a few paces away from the altar, his bright purple eyes narrowing as he studied it.
Behind him, the trio fell silent, their fear and doubt palpable as they waited for whatever—or whoever—was coming.
…..
A/N: Hi all, the novel updates every Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday!
And the chapters are big, alright? It's 2 chapters in 1! You don't have to bear through the small chapters again and exhaust your fast passes on multiple micro chapters.
Thank you all for your consistent support to the novel. I hope to end VSOL by the end of 2025. If it doesn't end, no worries, I'll end it in 2026, easy.
Also, in case you don't know, I published a new novel called "Grand Lust Sovereign"!
It has all the elents from VSOL but is actually Tower fantasy and a proper LitRPG!
Do check it out!
Much Love,
SocialHippo.
Reviews
All reviews (0)