Beyond the Apocalypse-Chapter 1061: Invading the First Layer

The Xaos Kingdom had transformed into a vast nexus of war.

Forces from the Faerathia Empire, the Dvergar Kingdom, the Amazon Kingdom, the Obsidian Dragon Kingdom, and the Graecia Empire gathered openly within its borders as a single, unified host preparing for conquest.

Every single day, tens of thousands of warriors stepped forward and descended into a colossal pool of blood that stretched like a crimson river across the land. The liquid glowed with a golden radiance, pulsing with runes and divine sigils etched into the very substance of the artifact. The moment a warrior submerged, their screams—whether of pain, awe, or transcendence—echoed through the air.

And when they rose again, they were no longer the same.

Their auras shifted, gaining a fiendish undertone, dense and heavy, as Devil Bloodlines were permanently imprinted into their souls. The transformation was violent but controlled, rewriting spiritual structures at the most fundamental level.

The pool itself was a masterpiece, an artifact forged by Overlord, containing every necessary component for mass soul–bloodline infusion. The True Depravita of Pride had fused his essence with it, allowing him to operate on thousands of warriors simultaneously, adjusting parameters in real time to ensure stability and compatibility.

From the peak of the Xaos Tower, Vlad observed the scene in silence.

A solemn light flickered in his eyes.

The troops were already gathered. Their transformations will be complete very soon. War machines, artifacts, and resources had been secured inside spatial treasures. And a thorough, merciless analysis of the First Layer of Hell had already been completed down to the smallest detail.

They lacked nothing.

It was only a matter of time before they marched.

Although Vlad had entered Hell before—more than once—this was different. This time, there would be no disguises, no stealth, no hidden movements through shadows and deception.

This would be open war.

A war so vast that many would die.

Yet it had to be done.

The conquest of the first three layers of Hell would serve as their crucible. It would temper their forces, shatter their limits, and force them to evolve again and again. No matter what horrors Hell unleashed upon them, nothing it possessed could compare to what awaited within the Primordial God’s Tomb.

Suddenly, Vlad’s gaze sharpened.

He turned and saw Freya standing beside him.

The eyes of the True Depravita of Lust narrowed as she observed the troops below. Among them were many Vikings, their bodies etched with new infernal sigils. Determination burned fiercely within their eyes, mingled with restrained killing intent.

They had already lost their homeland once—lost it through weakness.

That memory haunted them.

The desire for strength burned deeply within their souls, an unquenchable hunger to ensure they would never again stand helpless before annihilation.

Freya clenched her fists.

She wanted to march alongside them.

But in the end, she could only sigh.

Even though her pregnancy did not diminish her combat power, she could not participate in this war. The seal forged within her womb-dimension rendered spiritual and soul-based attacks completely ineffective against her children—but physical attacks could still harm her body, destabilizing the dimension and endangering the unborn.

The support she could offer on the battlefield was not worth that risk.

More importantly, Vlad would never be able to fight freely if his eyes could not leave her.

That was why they had decided she would remain behind.

"The Nightmare Universe is covering the world," Vlad said softly. "And I can return here in a matter of seconds using Quantum Expanse. Everything will be fine."

Freya nodded, clasping his hand. A faint smile appeared on her lips.

After becoming a True Depravita, she had believed she could follow him anywhere—face any danger by his side. But now there was something even more important than her own life.

Vlad looked at her, his expression filled with love and tenderness.

They stood together atop the tower for several hours, saying nothing.

Finally, the gaze of the Xaos King sharpened, radiating a pressure so intense it felt as though he could subjugate entire worlds with a single thought.

"It is time."

He embraced Freya briefly, then rose into the air as Overlord, Fafnir, Jormungandr, and Ouroboros fused into his body. In an instant, his presence expanded into the void like a rising tide.

It did not take long for the assembled forces to gather.

Hundreds of thousands of Sages.

More than nine thousand Legends.

They stood before him, led by their sovereigns, silent and resolute.

Vlad inhaled deeply.

Then his energy exploded outward.

Space itself began to shudder, cracking sounds echoing across the void for countless kilometers. Slowly, a massive portal tore itself open before the forces of the Six Sun Alliance, like the jaws of some ancient cosmic beast yawning wide.

---

The First Layer of Hell was a realm of ruin.

A vast, desolate wasteland stretched endlessly in all directions. The terrain was jagged and unstable. The sky was starless, choked with smoke, illuminated only by drifting pockets of flammable gas that burned silently when disturbed.

And within this infernal realm stood a massive fortress, perched atop a towering mountain.

It was so vast it seemed capable of housing millions of Devils.

At its heart sat a colossal Devil Lord.

More than three hundred meters tall, his body was grotesquely obese, layered with folds of corrupted flesh. Massive horns jutted from his skull, and his crimson eyes gleamed with indulgence and cruelty.

His name was Kalio.

A wide grin stretched across his face as he drank deeply from a goblet of dark wine, devouring chunks of raw flesh. Blood mixed freely with his drink, dripping down his chin.

The last few months had been magnificent.

One by one, his rivals within the First Layer had vanished, leaving behind a power vacuum he eagerly seized. His domain expanded rapidly, his strength growing with each conquered territory.

"If this continues for a few more centuries," Kalio chuckled, "I might even reach the upper limit of the Lord Rank."

His eyes gleamed with ambition.

"That would give me enough power to deal with those pompous bastards in the lower layers."

As he fantasized about wealth, dominance, and future glory—

The entire mountain range trembled.

Kalio’s smile froze.

His eyes widened as the ground shook violently beneath him, a pressure unlike anything he had felt before crashing down upon the First Layer of Hell.

As the Devil Lord struggled to understand what was happening, he felt it—a massive disturbance rippling through the fabric of space itself.

Kalio’s brow furrowed as his senses flared at full power.

"What is happening?" he growled. "What kind of cosmic phenomenon could be stirring the First Layer like this?"

Not for a single moment did he consider the possibility that this disturbance had been caused by an individual. In his mind, there existed no being capable of altering space on such a terrifying scale. Such feats belonged only to natural cataclysms, ancient calamities, or the will of Hell itself.

Then the sky split apart.

Kalio’s eyes widened in horror as the heavens tore open like fragile parchment. A massive, dark maw manifested above him, so vast that it seemed to swallow the entire horizon. It was not merely a tear—it was a wound in reality, exuding pressure so immense that even Devils miles away were crushed to their knees.

From within that abyss, hundreds of thousands of figures descended.

Sages.

Legends.

They fell like a divine avalanche, their bodies wrapped in controlled auras, eyes filled with icy resolve. There was no hesitation in their descent, no fear—only cold determination and an unbreakable sense of purpose. Their hearts burned with conviction, each warrior fully aware that this battle would define their existence.

This would be the most important battlefield of their lives.

A war that would be etched into history for as long as their civilizations endured.

And they were ready to carve their names into Hell itself.

Kalio clenched his fists, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of what he was witnessing. Nothing added up. Nothing fit within the laws he understood. The scale, the precision, the coordination—it was absurd.

Shaking his head violently, he forced himself to focus.

"They are many," he muttered, teeth grinding, "but they are only Sages and Legends. With the forces stationed in the fortress, I can deal with them."

That fragile confidence shattered in the very next second.

Six terrifying auras erupted into existence.