Entering Apocalypse in Easy-Mode-Chapter 463: Back Here

Clyde floated through the swirling tunnel of iridescent color. His body wrapped in a sheath of magic to shield him from the violent currents of raw dimensional flow.

The path between realms twisted in scenery of light and shadow. Each second stretched long like a a reminder that he hadn’t passed through here in a long time.

His breath grew shallower as the pressure shifted. The portal trying to readjust to his presence.

It remembered him but like an old scar, not a friend. His body trembled then stabilized not long after. His mind also had to steel itself. This was no ordinary place he was returning to.

Sivagadh Fortress.

He thought that it was a wrong name as the final curve of the tunnel opened up before him. It’s not a fortress but a sanctuary in the corner of the cosmos.

Clyde stepped through the final ripple of the portal and the air shifted.

He landed in the heart of the sanctuary.

The city sprawled before him. This was not a ciry filled euth the chaos of a war zone and apocalypse like what he saw when he was grinding in the Ruin. This city was filled with the rhythm of life in motion.

Towering spires scraped against the sky that always dark. Some shaped like Earth’s modern skyscrapers, others like crystalline trees sculpted by Elven hands, and even a few stout dwellings clearly built by Dwarvs.

The streets bustled with people. They were mortals of every kind. The humans in usual modern and old age clothing, elves in flowing silks, dwarves in armor and grease-stained leather, and faeries who dancing in wings of liquid light.

It was a world stitched together from the broken remnants of others. Loss had brought them here.

The Selection Stage had torn their homes apart, consumed their skies in fire, and now this hidden dimension was all they had left and all they could build upon.

Clyde stood at the center of a public square where the big portals were located

He let out a breath.

"So many more will come," he thought. "I need this place to be ready."

The protector of this sanctuary, the high council, would surely feel his arrival.

Clyde could already sense the awakening pulse of the high council’s mind brushing against his mind.

He moved forward into the street, the people instinctively giving him space. Some of the older ones looking at him with wary eyes, others whispered his name.

Clyde walked onward, toward the central tower of the city. Ready to explain that more refugees were coming and that this place would have need a ’renovation’ to make room for them.

But Clyde turned from the main path leading to the headquarter. There would be time for councils soon enough. First, he needed to see someone. Someone who reminded him of simpler times before his wars againts the higher beings and cosmic stakes.

His boots thudded against the stone-paved street as he veered toward the place where the heat of fire and the ring of steel still dominating together with the buzz of magic. The place was the forges.

The scent of molten iron and smelted stone thickened in the air. Sparks danced in the area.

Hammers pounded rhythmically, shaping metal into tools, weapons, and armor. And at the heart of it all, standing beside a furnace the size of a truck, was the man Clyde was looking for.

Hammer.

The dwarven blacksmith was burly, broad-chested, and bald, his beard was a braided tangle of iron-grey and black after being burned by forge’s fire.

His thick arms gleamed with sweat and soot as he brought down his hammer in a clean arc onto a glowing blade.

Clyde stepped into the forge, letting the magic-laced heat wash over him.

Hammer didn’t look up right away. He was finishing a stroke. The ringing blow echoed clean and sharp.

Then he paused. His nose twitched.

He sniffed the air.

"Holy shit," Hammer muttered, slowly turning. "That scent. That cursed mix of blood, and destruction..."

He looked up and his eyes widened.

"Clyde?"

Clyde gave a half-smile. "Hello there."

Hammer blinked. Then he grinned wide enough to show cracked teeth. He set down his hammer with a loud clank and walked forward then grabbed Clyde in a crushing and rib-creaking hug.

"You’re alive, you bastard!" Hammer boomed. "I thought you were dead in one of the the Ruin! Or turned into some cursed ghost wandering the cosmos!"

"I almost did," Clyde said, patting the dwarf’s back with a grimace. "You trying to break my spine?"

"I’ll fix it if I do. Hahaha," Hammer said, finally releasing him with a laugh like rolling boulders. "You look like you’ve been dragged through hells and spit back out."

"I’ve been through worse," Clyde replied, glancing at the glowing forge. "But I’m still standing."

Hammer crossed his arms.

"Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes. We thought you weren’t ever coming back. And now you waltz in like nothing happe ed. What brings you back?"

Clyde’s expression sobered. "M

Ah, well, I have to tell you that more are coming. Survivors. From the high realms this time. The Celestials, the gods are dying. So the followers need new place to stay."

The dwarf’s smile faded. His brow furrowed. "Celestial dying? that means trouble. Always does."

"They’ll need shelter, safety and food."

Hammer nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "Yes... I can feel it. The air’s different already. I know something’s shifting."

Clyde looked him in the eyes. "Will you help? I’ll need you again when the time come."

Hammer’s answer came without pause.

"I never stopped helping. You say the word, and I’ll have the forges burning day and night."

Clyde placed a hand on Hammer’s shoulder. "Thank you, old friend. I’ll come back soon. I need to speak with the council first."

Hammer grunted, turning back to his anvil.

"Right, go deal with the authority first."

Clyde smiled and turned, stepping back into the street with the ringing sound of the forge behind him.

Next stop, the central castle.

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