Genius Noble With System-Chapter 442: Mysterious gathering of Strong

And the one facing these three was a peak eternal god-level swordsman who, although wasn’t weak, was still a bit below the level of commander.

He was injured badly, as facing three such powerful enemies was too much, and he can lose any moment.

Seeing this, Apollo didn’t wait any second and, quickly tearing through space, appeared right in front of the three abyssal beings.

He appeared directly before the three abyssal beings—an immovable wall of pressure between them and the dying swordsman.

He didn’t waste a single moment and slashed with his strength. His clear eternal sword rule combined with other rules.

Clang!

The power of the strike was unfathomable, leaving the abyssal monsters no chance to defend or run. There wasn’t any explosion or any cataclysmic phenomenon. The battle ended before they could even react, and they were killed instantly.

Silence swept across the battlefield. The remaining soldiers stared, stunned, unable to comprehend what they had just witnessed.

The leader of the seventeenth outpost—the very swordsman who had been moments from death—stood frozen. Just a heartbeat ago, he had accepted the inevitability of his end. But in the blink of an eye, Apollo had appeared... and the three abyssal monsters threatening his life were gone, erased as if they had never existed.

Before anyone could speak, Apollo moved again.

He raised his sword and cut through empty air.

Shhhhk—

Space split open.

A storm of void-tearing sword energy erupted outward, exploding across the battlefield. The sky dimmed beneath the sweeping arcs of destruction as countless blades of light rained upon the abyssal army.

Thousands of abyssal beasts were shredded instantly—no screams, no resistance, only annihilation.

The suffocating pressure overwhelming the outpost evaporated in a breath.

Soldiers who had been fighting on the edge of despair felt the crushing weight lift from their shoulders as Apollo’s strike carved open hope itself.

"What are you waiting for? Finish the rest." Apollo’s voice quickly echoed across the battlefield: ’Let them remember they had to finish off the rest of the scrubs that survived.’

Even injured, even exhausted to the point of collapse, the soldiers roared and reignited their fading strength. The sight of Apollo’s effortless dominance filled them with a surge of morale they thought they had lost forever.

They charged.

Limping, bleeding, but unyielding, they hunted down the remaining abyssal beasts. The fleeing monsters were cut down one after another, leaving no trace of their corruption behind.

Within minutes, the battlefield that had been on the verge of collapse was cleared—transformed from near-ruin to victory thanks to Apollo’s arrival.

After this, finally, the leader of this outpost came to him.

"Thank you, friend, for your help; otherwise this outpost would have lost." He said with a smile on his face. But deep within he was truly shocked as he finally felt Apollo’s realm.

Now that the tension of battle had eased, he could finally sense Apollo’s cultivation clearly... and the realisation nearly made his heart stop.

True God realm.

For a moment he thought the wounds he suffered were clouding his senses. He checked again—slow, careful, deliberate.

No mistake.

Apollo was truly only at the True God realm.

And yet... he had annihilated three peak Eternal-level abyssals like swatting flies. His sword strike had ended the battle the moment he arrived. His aura alone felt more terrifying than a peak Eternal God.

’What kind of monster is this? What kind of path has he walked?’

He couldn’t help but wonder from where suddenly such genius came, as the crimson domain didn’t have something extraordinary, but no matter what, they were saved, so he was glad.

Apollo, meanwhile, stood silently atop the battered outpost walls, gazing across the crimson-coloured sky.

The battles across the region were concluding one by one. Many outposts had suffered heavy losses. Some might have been completely overrun. The overall picture... was grim.

And what troubled him most was the same ominous sense he had felt before:

This wasn’t a random attack. The abyss had moved with intent.

Coordinated. Precise. Planned.

Something was forcing its way into this world, and no matter what, he had to quickly find the origin.

After some time everything calmed; Apollo returned back, but the entire crimson domain, or even the entire Empyrean Sword realm, seemed to be covered in a gloomy aura.

At the very centre of the realm, a group of almighty beings had gathered. Their auras were unfathomable, each one far surpassing that of the half-step Transcendent Abyssal Leader Apollo had defeated.

Although each of the figures gathered here appeared to be sitting casually, to any outsider it would seem as if they were enthroned upon countless swords. Their auras were so profound that even an eternal god might perish from a single glance. Their very existence lay far beyond ordinary comprehension.

There weren’t many—only twenty-four almighty beings seated here—and none of them were willing to speak until one more figure arrived to join the meeting.

When this figure finally stepped into the room, he was like others whose faces cannot be seen, but he was nothing like the others. Where the twenty-four radiated overwhelming might, his presence was calm, quiet, and almost understated.

Yet the moment he stepped forward, an invisible pressure rippled through the void. Without raising his voice, without releasing a hint of aura, he became the centre of the room—commanding every being present as naturally as breathing.

"Abyss is finally making its move. All of you have to be ready to face the all-out war." The mysterious figure said calmly, as he seemed to know fully what was coming.

He turned to leave but paused mid-step. His gaze drifted toward some distant corner of existence, and his eyes glimmered with a faint, amused interest.

"Send someone to the Crimson Domain," he said softly. "There’s an interesting kid there. Bring him to me."

"Yes." From the shadows a calm, cold voice can be heard, and with that, this gathering seems to come to an end.

Apollo, who had returned back to the outpost and was searching ancient books and ancient documents, seemed to feel something.

"What was that?" It felt as if someone was watching him.

A faint chill crawled down his spine. He immediately swept his divine sense across the entire outpost, probing every corner, every flicker of life. Yet he found nothing—no presence, no trace, not even a hint of abnormality.

In the end, he could only frown lightly and let the feeling go.