Beyond the Apocalypse-Chapter 1081: Opening the tomb

When Vlad turned toward them, still smiling, the contrast was almost surreal.

He did not leave them wondering for long.

"I understand the strain those explosions are causing," Vlad said calmly. "But do not let fear push your minds toward the worst-case scenario. Analyze the situation carefully."

The Sovereigns forced themselves to focus. Their attention locked onto him.

Vlad continued.

"I know the power behind those blows is terrifying. Honestly, if that were the strength Dream of Madness still possessed in full, marching into this battle would be suicide."

Several hearts tightened at those words.

Then Vlad’s eyes sharpened.

"But that is not the case. He has been weakened."

A flash of surprise crossed their faces—followed immediately by rising hope.

"Think about it," Vlad went on. "Those attacks are not continuous. He releases them once every twelve hours. If he truly had the strength to break free by force, he would be attacking constantly."

The Sovereigns’ expressions shifted as understanding dawned.

"That means one of two things," Vlad said. "Either he must spend enormous time gathering the energy required for each strike... or using that power leaves him so drained that he cannot repeat it for half a day."

Vlad watched as resolve steadily rose within the hearts of the Sovereigns. They did not need certainty of victory—no one could offer that. After all, the being they were about to face had already stepped into the Empyrean Realm. Against such an existence, absolute confidence would have been nothing more than self-deception.

What they needed was something far more important.

They needed to know there was a chance.

They needed to believe that what awaited them would be a battle—not a meaningless charge toward annihilation at the hands of the Alien Lord.

"That is not all," Vlad said, drawing their attention. "As I analyzed the barrage, I realized that while the power of each strike remains the same, their duration is decreasing."

The Sovereigns focused immediately.

"The first time, the assault lasted a little over one minute and two seconds. The second time, it lasted exactly one minute. Just now, it failed to surpass fifty-eight seconds."

They had been so overwhelmed by the sheer destructive force of the attacks that none of them had thought to measure their length. But as they replayed the events in their minds, they realized Vlad was right.

And the implication was clear.

Dream of Madness was weakening.

As that understanding settled in, the final traces of doubt and hesitation faded from the Sovereigns’ hearts. In their place rose absolute determination. Their minds stabilized, their breathing steadied, and their auras grew sharper.

They were ready.

Their bodies and souls would be able to unleash their full strength when the time came.

Vlad felt genuine satisfaction at the sight, but he did not rush matters.

"We are already here," he continued calmly. "And we now understand the condition of Dream of Madness. I propose that we wait and allow its power to continue weakening."

Not long ago, any delay would have been unacceptable. They had not known the state of the Alien Lord, nor whether forces from the Alien Power had already entered the Primordial God’s Tomb.

But the situation was different now.

Dream of Madness was directly beyond the dimensional boundary, and the Sovereigns were blocking the only path forward. Anyone attempting to reach the Empyrean Realm would have to pass through them first.

Of course, Vlad did not intend for them to simply sit idle.

"Since we have time," he said, "I will forge a Runic Set for each of us. It will be simple in structure, but extremely powerful. The runes will link our life forces and souls. Even if one of you suffers catastrophic wounds, as long as the others remain alive, you will endure. It will also significantly strengthen your spiritual defenses."

His eyes sharpened slightly.

"However, I will require a Lord-tier soul from each of you."

The Sovereigns nodded immediately. Any advantage, no matter the cost, was worth obtaining.

Without hesitation, each of them extracted the soul of the Devil Lord they had previously captured and sent it toward the True Depravita of Wrath.

Once the materials were gathered, the group returned to meditation. This time, however, their minds were calm. The dread and exhaustion that had clouded their thoughts earlier were gone, replaced by focus and quiet confidence.

As for Vlad, he immersed himself completely in his work.

The runic structure he intended to create was extremely advanced. Even with the Lord-tier souls as anchors, it required a level of mastery he had only recently attained after his battles in the Third Layer of Hell.

Wasting no time, he materialized the necessary components and began forging.

Twelve hours later, like clockwork, the explosions returned.

Shockwaves echoed across space once more.

But this time, instead of dread, the Sovereigns felt a faint sense of satisfaction.

The barrage did not even reach the fifty-seventh second.

Days passed. Then weeks.

Vlad worked without interruption.

He began by engraving the runic network into his own body and soul, ensuring stability before extending the structure to others. Once his system was complete, he proceeded to inscribe the runes into the remaining Sovereigns one by one.

The process was exhausting and extraordinarily costly. Nearly all the resources Vlad had gathered during his campaign in Hell were consumed.

But the result was worth it.

When the final engraving was complete, wide smiles appeared across the Sovereigns’ faces. They could feel it clearly—an anchor surrounding their life force and soul.

Even if their hearts were destroyed... even if their soul dimensions were shattered... they would not die as long as the others endured.

Of course, survival would come at a price. Such injuries would leave them in deep comas for years, perhaps decades, and their cultivation would suffer severe damage.

But as long as they lived, everything lost could be recovered.

After completing the final inscriptions, Vlad took a full day to recover from the immense exhaustion.

One hour before the next scheduled barrage, he opened his eyes.

His power had returned to its peak.

He glanced at the Sovereigns with a deep, meaningful look.

The White Death. Merlin. Orkin. Brightkin. Ankil.

Each of them returned his gaze with a solemn nod.

During the weeks they had spent waiting, the duration of Dream of Madness’s attacks had fallen to less than forty-three seconds.

Ideally, they would have continued waiting, allowing the enemy’s stamina to decline even further.

But the situation no longer allowed it.

The repeated assaults had destabilized the dimension itself. Cracks were spreading through the underlying laws of the realm, and the damage was approaching a catastrophic threshold.

If they delayed any longer, the dimension might collapse entirely.

And if that happened, they would be forced to confront Dream of Madness outside the Primordial God’s Tomb.

That would be a mistake.

Here, the battlefield was isolated. No external forces could interfere. Here, they could unleash their full power without concern for collateral destruction.

This was the perfect place to fight.

Seeing that everyone was ready, Vlad stepped toward the dimensional boundary and placed his hand against it, waiting.

Right on schedule—

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!"

The barrage erupted once more, shaking the realm.

Cracks spread across the sky like shattered glass. Entire oceans lifted into the air. Mountains trembled and began to rise from the ground as the laws of gravity faltered under the strain.

With each passing second, the focus in the Sovereigns’ eyes sharpened further.

Then, at last, the assault ended.

Without hesitation, Vlad pushed his hand forward.

A portal tore open.

One by one, they stepped through.

In the next instant, they found themselves inside a dark dimension—one without sky or ground. Only endless darkness stretched in every direction.

Floating within the endless darkness stood a gargantuan tomb shaped like a colossal monolith, ancient and silent, radiating a pressure that weighed upon the soul.

Vlad and the Sovereigns advanced toward it without hesitation, their expressions resolute as their auras rose higher and higher. Each step carried the quiet awareness that this confrontation could become the final battle of their lives. Power gathered around them like storm clouds, their life force and will sharpening as they prepared to face whatever lay sealed within.

The True Depravita of Wrath slowed as he reached the base of the monolith. Taking a deep breath, he steadied his mind and focused his strength. In the next instant, a single drop of blood emerged from the Eye of Pride, glowing faintly as it hovered in the air before him.

Opening the tomb required a rare convergence: the essence of Heaven, Hell, and the Abyss. The True Depravita possessed all three within his existence. His body carried the flesh and structure of an Archangel, his lineage held the blood of a Devil Lord, and within him resided the soul of a Demon Lord. Because of this unique fusion, a single drop of his blood contained the three powers needed to unlock the ancient seal.

With steady hands, Vlad performed the same ritual once used by the agents of the Alien Power. The blood fell against the surface of the monolith, spreading across its ancient patterns like living light. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then the entire structure trembled.

A deep, resonant vibration spread through the darkness as the massive tomb began to awaken. Ancient symbols ignited across its surface, and with a grinding sound that echoed through the void, the monolith slowly began to open.