Beyond the Apocalypse-Chapter 588: Unexpected arrival

Soon, they all learned their names, their families, and the organizations or clans they came from; some commented on their hobbies and battles with the Vorometallicae, giving hints about their battle abilities and specializations. Of course, idle chatter could not last forever, and eventually, a member of the Imperial Prince’s team raised an important question.

"By the way, which among you young ones is Lord Agamenon’s Runic Master?"

The one who spoke was an elderly man with a long white beard, his sharp eyes filled with wisdom. His name was Tyron, and his very presence radiated an aura of scholarship as if he had read as many ancient tomes as there were stars in the sky. Although he was the oldest of the group, the rest of the Imperial Prince’s team seemed to keep him in a very high state.

Vlad focused on him, noting that while the old man’s energy pool was not particularly overwhelming, something told him that underestimating his battle prowess would be a grave mistake.

Without hesitation, Vlad raised his hand.

"I am the one in charge of that aspect."

Immediately, the eyes of the Imperial Prince’s team turned toward him, and many could not conceal their surprise.

Runic Crafting was an intricate, highly specialized profession—mastering it typically took decades, if not centuries. Yet, it was clear to all that Vlad was still quite young, as his vitality pulsed with the strength of youth.

Some among them could not help but doubt his capabilities.

"Do your skills truly suffice to handle the runic formations inside the secret plane?"

The one who spoke was a dwarf named Norman, a warrior brimming with muscle, his broad back carrying a trunk-shaped shield and a deadly sword emanating a dangerous aura.

Norman’s words were blunt and direct, wasting no time in addressing the matter head-on. If Vlad was not capable enough, it would only add pressure to their own Runic Master—something none of them wanted.

Before Vlad could respond, Tyron interjected.

"This young man is more than talented enough," the old scholar stated with absolute certainty. "After all, he is a Rank 4 Runic Master—capable of engraving Peak Rank 4 Runic Sets."

The moment he uttered those words, a flicker of light passed through his keen eyes, and his gaze shifted toward Jormungandr.

Unlike the other Sky Seed Depravitas, who were completely encased in armor, Jormungandr’s metallic robe exposed his feline features. The runic engravings shimmering along his face were enough to give away the sheer craftsmanship behind them.

Most individuals would struggle to decipher the power of a rune simply by observing a few runic lines, but Tyron was clearly not an ordinary scholar.

Once more, all eyes landed on Vlad—but this time, instead of skepticism, they held awe.

There was a massive difference between being a Rank 4 Runic Master and being capable of creating Peak Rank 4 Runic Sets. The former meant one had mastered the craft, while the latter meant one had perfected it.

Vlad, however, was less focused on their reactions and more interested in Tyron himself. The old man’s ability to analyze runes at a glance was remarkable—a skill few possessed.

Before the conversation could continue, all members of both groups suddenly tensed, their gazes snapping toward the entrance of the underwater cave.

Soon, twenty-seven figures emerged from the murky waters, each one radiating the undeniable power of Sages.

Their majestic and imposing armor gleamed even in the dim cavern light, some pieces etched with intricate runes, while others exuded auras of raw elemental force.

As they landed inside the cave, they moved with military precision, arranging themselves in an orderly formation, their combined aura spreading outward—an overwhelming display of power.

It wasn’t difficult to identify the leaders.

At the forefront stood three individuals, each remarkable in their own way.

The first leader was a massive, muscular man, standing nearly four meters tall. His bald head gleamed under the dim light, and rather than traditional armor, he wore a martial robe. His entire body, from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet, was covered in an intricate pattern of repeating runes, forming a mystical script of raw power.

The second leader was a golden man—literally golden.

His entire body, from his hair to his eyes, seemed to be fused with gold, giving him an almost divine appearance. Even his robes and staff were adorned with the same golden hue, making one wonder whether his very blood was composed of liquid gold.

The third leader was a stunning young woman with radiant blue hair, her presence regal and commanding.

Unlike the other two, she was not leading alone.

Beside her stood a man in his early thirties with short black hair framing. His eyes were entirely white as if he had been stripped of all pigment.

At the center of his forehead, a strange rune glowed with sinister energy, pulsating with an unsettling aura.

The moment Vlad laid eyes on him, his expression darkened.

There was something deeply familiar about this man—a strange recognition stirring in his mind. freёweɓnovel_com

Yet, he was certain he had never met him before.

Vlad was not the only one affected.

As soon as the black-haired man entered the cave, Janus and Agamenon also frowned deeply, their expressions darkening as their gazes locked onto the blue-haired woman beside him.

Unlike them, however, she simply smiled, her lips curling into an amused smirk.

"Imperial Prince Janus, Agamenon," she greeted, her tone laced with knowing amusement. "It has been a long time since we last saw each other."

Agamenon did not bother hiding his displeasure, though his voice remained controlled and composed.

"Valeria," he addressed her coolly. "Would you care to explain the presence of your companion?"

His gaze flickered briefly to the black-haired man, then back to her.

"Our arrangement was to keep information about the secret plane between the five of us," he continued. "Yet it seems you’ve chosen to share it with someone from the Zanis Family."

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