Beyond the Apocalypse-Chapter 1067: Second Phase of the Conquest

It did not take long for news of the Six Sun Alliance’s brutal expansion across the First Layer of Hell spread throughout the infernal depths. Shock and fury gripped the Devil Lords of the deeper layers, yet none of them dared to act.

After all, one of the most ancient and powerful among them—Beelzebub, a Lord of the Ninth Layer—had been defeated and forced to flee, his body maimed and his pride shattered.

The deterrence—that deep, instinctive dread—was precisely what Overlord had hoped to achieve by allowing the White Death to face the Devil Paragon alone.

That single battle had reshaped the balance of fear across Hell.

It made one thing unmistakably clear: the Six Sun Alliance had not won through tricks, ambushes, or sheer numerical superiority. They had won because they were stronger. Individually. Overwhelmingly. Irrefutably.

Every Devil Lord understood the message.

If they marched toward the Alliance’s domains to challenge them, it would not be a glorious clash of equals. It would be suicide.

And if, by some miracle, one of them was powerful enough to contend with the White Death, then they would still have to face the True Depravita of Wrath who, in his ultimate form, possessed the strength to hunt down and kill Paragons.

The Six Sun Alliance was prepared for anything Hell could throw at them.

Fear spread faster than fire.

Devil Lords across the First Layer began to fall like flies—not merely slain, but captured alive, as they were afraid to fight with all their power.

To outsiders, this might have seemed strange. Why would the Devil Lords contain themselves? But to anyone who truly understood the nature of Devils, it made perfect sense.

Devils were not reckless beasts. They were calculating, scheming, and ruthlessly pragmatic.

The Devil Lords knew that even if they somehow managed to defeat one Sovereign, there would be others waiting. And beyond them stood the White Death, who could end their existence with a single decisive strike. Resistance no longer promised survival—only annihilation.

That knowledge poisoned their resolve.

They hesitated in battle. They retreated instead of pressing advantages. They chose surrender over extinction. And that hesitation made the work of the Sovereigns infinitely easier.

Months passed.

What began as a shockwave within Hell soon spilled beyond its infernal borders. News of the conquest of the First Layer spread across the universe, carried by traders, spies, mercenaries, and intelligence networks. Entire worlds and ancient organizations learned of the Six Sun Alliance’s actions—and at first, they dismissed them as madness.

It was a long-standing, unquestioned truth: beings of the Light could not conquer Hell.

The laws were incompatible. The energies were poisonous. Even survival was considered impossible, let alone domination.

And yet the reports continued to arrive.

Not only were the Sages and Legends of the Alliance surviving within Hell—they were growing stronger.

When confirmation arrived that Sages were evolving into Legends while cultivating within the infernal realm, chaos erupted across the cosmos. The implications were staggering. It meant that warriors born of the Light could grow by tempering themselves against the Laws of Darkness.

A wall that had stood since the dawn of cultivation had cracked.

Overlord was well aware of every rumor, every whispered theory, every panicked discussion spreading across the universe. His intelligence and trade networks were vast, and as the reports poured in, the golden light in his eyes burned ever brighter. A smile—slow, controlled, and full of pride—often curved his lips.

Still, he did not allow that pride to cloud his judgment.

The True Depravita of Pride remained focused, overseeing every movement of the Six Sun Alliance across the First Layer. He personally led the forces of the Xaos Kingdom from one stronghold to another, capturing Devil Lords, slaughtering Devils, consuming their remains, and appointing Superior Legends as rulers over each secured Infernal Monolith.

Time continued to flow.

Eventually, the Sovereigns of the Six Sun Alliance gathered within a massive fortress deep inside Hell.

The change in them was unmistakable. Their auras were denser, sharper, more oppressive. The bloodlines flowing through their veins had evolved dramatically. With the assistance of Overlord and Jormungandr, each Sovereign had acquired a Lord-tier Devil Bloodline, perfectly attuned to their individual combat styles.

And they were not alone in their growth.

Every warrior they had brought into Hell had advanced by leaps and bounds. Each battle served as a crucible, forcing potential to erupt under pressure. Origin Power drawn from the Infernal Monoliths worked wonders on their souls and cultivation paths, accelerating progress at a rate previously thought impossible.

Yet despite all this success, the expressions on the Sovereigns’ faces were solemn as they stared at the holographic projection hovering before them.

The First Layer of Hell.

It was vast—far larger than many had initially grasped. Even with the overwhelming efficiency of the Six Sun Alliance, guided by Overlord’s strategies and aided by the Infernal Monoliths acting as anchors of control, only seventy-five percent of the First Layer had been secured after two full years.

That alone was an unprecedented achievement.

The First Layer by itself rivaled the Graecia World in size—a supreme world overflowing with resources, treasures, and cultivation phenomena capable of supporting growth all the way to the Lord Tier. In that regard, the conquest had already paid for itself many times over.

The remaining twenty-five percent, however, posed a different problem.

It was not especially dangerous. Nearly every Devil Lord capable of posing a true threat had been killed or captured, and almost every Infernal Monolith had been secured. But what remained was obscured—hidden by bizarre phenomena, distorted spaces, and regions of Hell that defied conventional exploration.

Clearing it would be slow. Painfully slow.

It could easily take another decade.

Worse still, the gains would be minimal. Few resources remained unclaimed, and little cultivation benefit could be extracted from those regions. Yet if the Alliance wished to truly conquer the First Layer—if they wished to establish cities, strongholds, and permanent settlements where their people could live and prosper—then every corner had to be secured.

Overlord’s gaze swept across the Sovereigns. His eyes sharpened as he spoke, his voice calm but absolute.

"It is time for the First Layer to enter the Second Phase of the Conquest."

Silence fell.

Solemn expressions appeared on every face. This was a step they had anticipated, but anticipation did not lessen the weight of the decision. Slowly, one by one, they nodded.

The First Phase of the Conquest had been brutal and direct: the arrival of the Alliance’s main army, the extermination of resistance, and the crushing of Hell’s power structure within the layer.

The Second Phase was different.

It involved the deployment of the Thiamatos Drones from the Xaos Kingdom, accompanied by two Lords and one hundred Legends. In most realms, such a force would have been overwhelming. In Hell, it was barely sufficient for survival.

That was precisely why they would only be deployed now—after the greatest threats had been eliminated.

Their mission was not war.

It was completion.

Terraforming the land. Stabilizing regions. Establishing infrastructure. Turning a layer of Hell into a domain where the Alliance could endure, expand, and prepare for what lay beyond.

When it came to the First Layer, conquest was no longer about victory. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

It was about permanence.

Of course, it would have been naïve to assume that the Second Phase of the conquest would be entirely free of danger.

Although the Sovereigns and the main army had neutralized every known threat within the First Layer, Hell itself was ancient beyond reckoning. It was a realm shaped by countless eras of destruction, rebirth, and corruption.

Within such a place, there was always the possibility that something remained hidden—a phenomenon sealed away by forgotten laws, a monster slumbering beneath layers of infernal terrain, or an anomaly that had simply gone unnoticed.

Any of these could awaken without warning and slaughter the unprepared.

That risk, however, was one all of them had accepted long ago. Every great saga, every empire carved into history, was forged in danger. To fear that truth was to abandon ambition altogether.

Overlord’s voice cut through the chamber, calm and authoritative.

"The Crown Prince of the Graecia Empire, Altharion, and the brother of the Obsidian Dragon King, Lancel, will serve as the Lords in charge of the Second Phase of the First Layer."

His gaze swept across the assembled Sovereigns as he continued.

"Their primary objective is to secure the remaining twenty-five percent of the First Layer. Should they encounter any significant or anomalous threat beyond their capacity to handle, they are to immediately send an alarm. Upon receiving such a signal, the True Depravita of Wrath will activate his Quantum Eye and teleport to the First Layer without delay."

Overlord paused, his eyes sharp and probing.

"Are there any objections or alternative proposals regarding this plan?"

Silence reigned.

Not a single Sovereign spoke. None questioned the choice. None doubted the capability of those selected. That silence was all Overlord needed.

Before the day came to an end, a massive teleportation formation ignited across the scorched ground of the First Layer. Its runes burned with blinding brilliance as it connected to a corresponding formation on Terra, where the designated forces stood ready.

The sky trembled.

A colossal portal tore open reality itself, and in the next instant, Altharion and Lancel emerged.

The Human–God hybrid of the Graecia Empire and the Obsidian Dragon cast overwhelming auras as they stepped forward. The devil bloodlines embedded within their souls resonated with the environment, allowing them to naturally harness the power of Hell without resistance. Behind them followed ranks of Legends, each radiating strength sharpened by infernal cultivation.

Once the two Lords crossed the portal, the ground shook again.

It was the turn of the Legendary drones—war constructs forged by the Obsidian Tree itself. As they began to emerge, their presence alone caused the infernal air to distort.