SSS-Rank Evolving Monster: From Pest to Cosmic Devourer-Chapter 169: over

Rumble!

The heavens split open with a deafening roar as veins of purple lightning carved across the sky. Each streak illuminated the world below with a ghostly glow, as though the day of judgment had descended upon the Emerald Green Kingdom.

From every corner of the newly established city, leaders and warriors rushed outside, their eyes lifted toward the trembling heavens. Their faces were grim, their brows heavy with dread. The weight of the aura pressing down from above made their chests tighten and their hearts tremble violently, yet not a single one of them allowed fear to surface in their eyes. They waited—waited for the emergence of a single figure.

The supreme Venom Fang Overlord.

As long as the overlord revealed himself, everything would change. The chaos would be suppressed, the kingdom stabilized, and this storm of destruction would vanish like smoke before the wind. Such was their conviction.

But conviction was not truth.

If only they knew. If only they realized that the figure they pinned all their hopes upon had already vanished from this land—gone, not alone, but with every one of his close subordinates at his side. If they knew this bitter truth, despair would replace the fragile hope still flickering within their hearts.

High above the wooden castle, a single figure raged.

King Eldros.

His expression was twisted with fury, his aura so overwhelming that even the air seemed to bleed with crimson sparks. The veins in his temples pulsed as he threw his head back and roared, his voice carrying across mountains and rivers:

"Venom Fang Overlord! I will find you—and when I do, I will kill you!"

His words dripped with venom, his anger so deep it gnawed at his reason. His chest heaved as if every breath was an effort to keep himself from exploding. But reason soon snapped.

BOOM!

The king’s fury spilled outward in violent waves. Space itself trembled as if the heavens wished to retreat. Explosions thundered across the land. The ground fractured and split beneath his feet, shattering into countless fissures that stretched for miles.

Entire villages were reduced to nothing more than dust and ash. Homes, families, lives—obliterated in an instant, swallowed by the maelstrom of his wrath.

Yet Eldros did not stop. He could not stop.

With him as the epicenter, crimson lightning spiraled outward, each jagged bolt sharp enough to tear the air apart. They fell like divine punishment, raking the land until it resembled a scorched wasteland. His aura fused with the storm above, dragging the sky into his madness.

The wooden castle that once stood proud became the heart of an expanding void of destruction. Around it, the earth crumbled and the heavens darkened. The kingdom itself seemed to sink beneath a canopy of shadows.

And still... it continued.

The Emerald Green Kingdom, which had only just survived the endless wave of undead, now found itself at the mercy of something far more terrifying: the unrestrained fury of its own king.

Hidden in shattered ruins, survivors clung to life. Some crouched behind broken walls, others buried themselves beneath splintered beams and collapsed stone. Hands clasped in trembling prayer, lips moved desperately as if words could summon salvation.

But as minutes dragged into hours, hope slipped away.

Prayers turned hollow. Eyes grew vacant. In the silence between each deafening boom, despair crept in—cold, suffocating, merciless.

And still, above it all, crimson lightning tore the world apart.

...

"Damn it."

Ricky’s voice was hoarse, his throat dry as he stared at the chaos unraveling outside. His fists trembled at his sides, nails biting into his palms until blood welled.

The Emerald Green Forest—his forest, his home—was being torn apart.

Crimson lightning split the heavens like a god’s wrath, swallowing trees, rivers, and entire villages in a storm of ruin. The emerald canopy, once alive with spirit beasts and soft winds, was now painted in fire and ash. The air reeked of charred wood and burning soil, every echo of thunder another dagger twisting into his chest.

Home.

He had never thought of it like that before. For so long he had wandered with hesitation, treating the forest as nothing more than a place of survival. Yet now, watching it collapse into crimson ruin under King Eldros’s fury, Ricky felt the truth crush him. He had accepted this place—its trees, its beasts, even its dangers—as his own. And now, all of it was being stolen from him.

The pain was raw, sharper than he imagined possible.

His senses twitched, warning him a moment before warmth pressed against his back.

A pair of hands slid gently around him. A silent embrace.

Dark Shadow didn’t speak; she didn’t need to. Her presence was enough. The quiet weight of her body, the steady rise and fall of her breath—it told him she understood. She was hurting too.

Ricky wasn’t the only one bleeding inside at the sight of their home’s destruction. Alexandria’s jaw was tight, her eyes red with restrained fury. Dark Shadow’s face was unreadable as always, but her arms clung to Ricky with the kind of desperation only shared pain could forge.

Yet none of them moved. None of them struck. Because what could they do? Against King Eldros, even their strongest resistance would be nothing more than dust in the storm.

So they bottled their rage. Forced it down. Waited, knowing the day would come when debts would be repaid in blood.

But not today.

Not while the very air trembled with Eldros’s power, every blast of crimson lightning threatening to erase the Emerald Green Kingdom entirely.

In contrast to their silent grief, others in the hall were indifferent.

The surviving Stage 3 beings, battered but alive, sat cold-eyed, their attention fixed on survival rather than sentiment. Forty-Two leaned against the wall with detached calm, his mask hiding any emotion he might have felt. Rosy sharpened her nails absentmindedly, as though the destruction outside was a distant storm, unworthy of care. Felician’s lips curled into something between a smirk and a sneer, as if he were almost entertained.

Even Noctyss, pale in the glow of the lightning, showed a glimmer of amusement in her crimson eyes. If anything, she looked relieved. The forest had been nothing but a cage of shadows to her; now, with its death throes filling the sky, the world beyond seemed closer, larger, waiting to be claimed.

The room itself seemed heavy with the weight of silence. Nobody dared to break it. They simply watched.

Outside, King Eldros rampaged unchecked, his fury tearing through the land like a plague. Forests became wastelands, villages became smoldering pits. His roars shook the heavens, his crimson lightning scarred the very earth.

And from within the wooden hall, Ricky and the others watched it all—helpless witnesses to the death of a kingdom.

Suddenly, a pained cry tore through the silence.

"My laboratory!"

Velmont’s anguished exclamation echoed like a broken chord in the hall. His face twisted in disbelief, as though part of his very soul had been scorched away.

Rosy turned her head, her eyes softening with a trace of pity. She understood better than most what he had lost. That man had labored endlessly, hunched over cauldrons and furnaces, refining pills without sleep or rest, weaving months of effort into fragile bottles of hope. Now, all of it was nothing but ash—devoured by the merciless crimson thunder tearing through the forest.

Ricky said nothing. He only stared outward, his gaze fixed upon the blazing horizon where King Eldros rampaged like a mad god. Deep down, he was waiting—waiting for the storm to break, for Eldros to tire, for him to finally turn back once his madness burned itself out.

But time had other plans.

Hours bled into days. Days rotted into weeks. Then weeks stretched into long, unbearable months.

And still, King Eldros did not stop.

He lingered like a curse etched into the land, crimson storms wreathing his figure, his killing intent rooted deeper than any hatred Ricky had ever witnessed. His obsession was absolute—the desire to tear Ricky apart and drink his blood burned hotter than even the lightning that reduced the forest to cinders.

By now, the Emerald Green Forest was gone. Entirely.

What once was a boundless sea of jade leaves, rivers veined with silver light, and beasts who sang with the rhythm of nature, had been reduced to a wasteland of scars. Nothing remained but blackened soil and shattered stone, a graveyard of the forest’s memory.

And yet—even in ruin—the world resisted. The very atmosphere strained against the devastation. Mana seeped like mist into the wounds of the land, stubbornly trying to coax green life back into existence. Tiny shoots tried to claw their way through the ash, flickers of light shimmered faintly through the haze...

But each time hope stirred, King Eldros struck again.

With him as the center, fresh wounds erupted across the land, crimson thunder splitting heaven and earth. Every blast destabilized the surrounding mana, unraveling nature’s attempt at healing. His very existence had become an open wound upon the world—bleeding, festering, and endless.