Chapter 402

Chapter 402
## Chapter 402: It’s Family

The Awakened of Earth were currently gripped by a thick layer of anxiety.

The phenomenon known as the ‘Black Dome’ showed no indication of dissipating. Those obsidian clouds, draped heavily over the entire ocean, seemed to have no intention of fading away. However, before that building tension could even find a release, a series of notifications pierced the air.

[Erosion Rate 30%]

[The 3rd Invasion has commenced.]

[Please prepare for combat.]

[The ‘Third Monarch Mammon’ and the Legion of Primal Spirits are initiating their assault.]

The text materialized, signaling the official start of the 3rd Invasion. It was triggered because the erosion rate, which had been climbing at a terrifying pace, hit the 30% threshold in a heartbeat. Pure terror was etched into the features of those who moved into their fighting stances.

“Is the system still offline…?”

“The auction house and the shop are still completely unresponsive.”

“Damn… we’ll have to be extremely conservative with our remaining supplies.”

This was fundamentally different from any previous incursion. In the past, the strategy revolved around the active use of the system to manage resources. For instance, through the auction house, one could source vital weaponry or restorative potions instantly, even from the opposite side of the planet. It was possible to consult the World Tree Community or seek guidance from the Constellations to navigate the crisis. One could even track the survival of high-ranking heroes by monitoring the Hall of Fame. And as for the Golden Rule Shop? Its utility was beyond question.

Now, every single one of those lifelines had been severed. It was the absolute worst-case scenario—an invasion unlike anything the Awakened had ever faced. Yet, there was a factor even more dire than the loss of the system.

“Has there been any word from the suicide squad that entered the ‘Black Dome’?”

“…Nothing at all.”

“Is there any way to break in from the perimeter?”

“We’ve made several attempts, but…”

“Of all the times… Blast it!”

The 500-member suicide squad that had departed to investigate the Black Dome consisted entirely of the world’s most elite powerhouses. They were the heroes who served as the very pillars of global defense. The 3rd Invasion had struck right after they disappeared into the Dome. The problem was that all communication was dead, and there was no physical path to reach them. In the grimmest estimation, there was a high probability they had all been wiped out.

“It’s over…”

“There is no way we can stop this…”

Desperate whispers began to circulate. Hope was nowhere to be found. The divine system was gone, and the vanguard of Awakened tasked with Earth’s protection had vanished simultaneously. In such a state, what could they possibly hope to achieve?

—*Hiaaaaa!*

—*Hwiiiiing!*

At that precise moment, thousands of rift gates tore open across the Earth’s sky. They were invasion warps. Through these shimmering portals, a relentless tide of ‘Primal Spirits’ began to flood out. It looked as though the very heavens had been drowned in their numbers. Witnessing the sight, people could only squeeze their eyes shut in despair.

“Ah.”

“Merciful God…”

“Are You truly forsaking us?”

—

*Kwadeuk!*

The Black King buried his teeth deep into the neck of the White King. In that moment, he hungered for the White King’s lifeblood, forcibly seizing the sovereign authority of the White Tiger Tribe. However, he found himself unable to deliver the killing blow.

“White King… you persistent wretch.”

The Black King stared down at his own left hand. The fur there had turned snow-white before he even realized it. Pale hairs had sprouted like spreading stains, creeping up toward his wrist with alarming speed.

“I will not be consumed by the likes of you.”

Despite his defiance, the process was undeniable. Soul Erosion. This must have been the White King’s gamble from the very beginning. Even though he surely saw through his ‘Future Sight’ that he could not win a direct physical struggle, he had revealed himself on the battlefield specifically to trigger this. The moment the fangs sank in, the White King unleashed his true objective: he intended to tear out the Black King’s soul, his very essence, by the roots.

Because the White Tiger Tribe pursued perfection through the refinement of the spirit, they were the undisputed masters of soul manipulation. Naturally, he would have expected to succeed, but he underestimated his foe.

‘If you hunger for my soul, then I shall simply usurp your physical form.’

The Black Tiger Tribe were those who sought the ultimate peak through the evolution of the flesh. The moment the Black King grasped the White King’s scheme, he began fusing the White King’s vacant husk with his own frame. Furthermore, a weak soul cannot survive within a body that has reached such heights of physical hardening.

Still, purging the White King’s spirit was no simple task. Second by second, white fur continued to colonize the Black King’s hide. Eventually, the transformation reached a stalemate: pure white fur claimed the left side of his body, while midnight black remained on the right. He had become a being split perfectly down the middle.

“Keureureureureu…!”

The Black King’s body contorted in agony. He had anticipated a swift victory, but he hadn’t expected such tenacity. In truth, the blending of souls and bodies between the Black and White Tiger Tribes was a sacred Taboo. It was the ultimate prohibition that neither race was ever to cross. To violate it meant a king must forfeit his life.

However, the White King had initiated the breach. In kind, the Black King had followed suit. A taboo could only be met with another taboo.

Soon, the violent thrashing of his body subsided. Standing tall once more, the Black King allowed a cold smile to touch his lips.

“…I understand now why this union was forbidden.”

The One Body—the fusion of souls and forms from two diametrically opposed races.

“This is, without a doubt, the pinnacle.”

He could feel a terrifying, exhilarating power surging from within. Was this the sensation of standing at the final destination of all evolutionary paths? The White King’s gambit was clever, but in the end, the Black King had emerged as the master of the result. He had turned a curse into a supreme blessing. The tragedy had birthed an even greater power.

“‘Beast God’…!”

The Black King’s grin widened. The fusion had granted him more than just raw strength. It triggered a Hidden Trait Evolution. Several of the traits he possessed had transcended their limits, and consequently, the combat prowess of the ‘Black Beasts’—to whom he had granted these traits—surged as well.

But the crowning achievement was the ‘Beast God’ trait. He now stood as the singular deity atop the hierarchy of all beasts.

‘My command over the Black Beasts is now absolute, but more importantly…’

The Black King turned his gaze toward the colossus of impossible proportions. Despair. It appeared that he could now exert total dominance over that creature.

‘The Old Empire failed to harness the Four Perils because they fundamentally misunderstood their nature.’

The ancients had tried to treat the Four Perils merely as blunt instruments of war. They attempted to use them as giant monsters for simple brawling, and predictably, they failed. But the Black King understood their true application. For instance, the Peril Ba’al functioned as a conduit for summoning ancient curses. By using Ba’al as a catalyst, one could manifest an Evil God in its true, primordial form.

So, what was the true purpose of ‘Despair’? Cell transplantation? That was only a surface-level function. The real utility was something else entirely.

‘If it is now… then it can be done.’

The Black King extended his right hand and issued a command to the titan.

“…Dwell within my palm, Despair.”

—

*Kkwa-a-ang!*

The sound of shattering impacts echoed incessantly. It was a noise that had repeated hundreds of times, but the conclusion was finally drawing near.

“……I will grant you that much.”

The Golden Mask spoke, his expression showing signs of exhaustion. He looked at Blade Dragon God Hana. Never before had an opponent pushed the executives of the Evil Deity Cult into such a gruesome, protracted struggle.

“You are the first woman to ever drive me into such a corner.”

The Golden Mask spat the words while his hand was clamped firmly around Blade Dragon God Hana’s throat. She was the first to truly make him feel the pressure of defeat. She had returned from the brink of death multiple times, launching a frenzied assault. By the time her rampage slowed, six executives lay dead.

However, the more lives she took, the more the Golden Mask’s power swelled. As his own orthodoxy absorbed the essence of the fallen successors, he was reaching a state of completion. The reason the other executives had surrendered their souls to him so willingly was simple.

—His Majesty the Emperor is returning to us.

—We must offer everything to facilitate His arrival.

—Through me, we shall all be present to welcome Him.

The prophecy was unfolding. The slumbering Emperor was stirring. He was regaining his consciousness. The ‘Golden Spirit’ had manifested somewhere in the world and was currently pulling the Emperor from his long sleep. On the day of His true awakening, they would experience a restoration unlike any other. The all-powerful Emperor would raise them again as his divine servants.

Because they had no doubt they would be reborn as superior, enlightened beings, they had offered their souls and their legacies to the Golden Mask without hesitation.

*Kkwadeuk!*

The Golden Mask snapped Blade Dragon God’s neck. Her body went limp, dangling like a marionette whose strings had been severed. Simultaneously, the environment reacted.

*Kureureureureung!*

The Labyrinth groaned and shifted once more. When the movement finally ceased, the status changed.

‘Level 9.’

The numerical designation etched into the wall had updated. Given that the previous area—where he had just slain the Blade Dragon God—was Level 8, it implied that an entity even more formidable now stood before him. He found it hard to believe anyone could surpass her power.

“…A Druid?”

The figure that emerged was indeed a Druid. Beside him stood several other beings whose humanity was questionable at best. All of them radiated a chilling aura, one that felt hauntingly familiar to that of ‘Raiga’.

“You lot… what is your connection to Raiga?”

The Golden Mask demanded, his brow furrowed. He hadn’t imagined there were others who shared the presence of Raiga, who had always been a solitary shadow.

After a brief silence, the Legendary Druid Albino looked toward the Tower Lords who accompanied him. He spoke with a cold, detached expression.

“We are ‘family,’ you half-breed.”

—

The shadow was becoming overwhelming. Watching the encroaching wall of pure blackness, Hudson bit his lip until it nearly bled.

‘Oh, God…!’

Even Blade Dragon God Hana had fallen. If Albino was defeated as well, everything would be lost.

“Is it still… not enough?”

“Are our prayers not reaching him?”

“Oh, Phantom…!”

Behind Hudson, the avatars of Phantom were positioned in a large circle, surrounding the ‘First Fire’. Nearly three hundred versions of the man had congregated since the onset of the conflict, yet Park Hyeon-myeong remained motionless, showing no sign of waking. Their collective power was still insufficient to rouse him.

But time had run out. The Black King’s forces were advancing without pause. Ever since that ‘right hand’ had shifted its form, the defenders were powerless.

The Hand of Despair.

Anything it touched was consumed by ‘Despair.’ It was a viral hopelessness. The Ancient Phoenix ‘Al Raum,’ who had stood against the Black King, as well as Auril and the Elves, had all been corrupted by Despair and turned into puppets of the enemy. The ranks of the foe were multiplying while the defenders dwindled. Even with the growing number of Phantom’s avatars, the gap in raw power was staggering. The future was a void.

“Is this where that piece of work called Phantom is hiding?”

In that desperate moment, a man suddenly stepped into the very heart of the Labyrinth. He hadn’t been led by the Executors, nor had his approach been spotted through the eyes of Hypnos.

“How did he get in?”

“There was no warp signature…”

“You can’t be suggesting he tore through the Labyrinth defenses on his own?”

“That’s impossible…!”

Even the Executors were shaken, whispering in disbelief. Regardless of the chaos of war, this Labyrinth was not a place one could simply walk through alone. Even if he had forced a path, Hypnos should have tracked his every move. Yet, his arrival had bypassed all detection.

Whether he had moved with ultimate stealth or sheer, overwhelming force, he had cut through the Labyrinth using the most direct path imaginable.

“I’m only going to ask one more time. Is this where the bastard Phantom is?”

The man’s voice was thick with annoyance. He appeared to be a simple farmer. His worn, humble clothing was spotted with fertilizer, and he held a small harvesting sickle in his hand.

However, when Hudson looked at the man, his eyes widened in shock. He recognized the figure. It seemed like an impossibility, and when Hudson finally spoke, his voice was thick with tremors.

“Y-You… are you truly…?”