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Chapter 163 - CH: 161: Ancient Evil II

{Chapter: 161: Ancient Evil II}

"This isn't good," he muttered under his breath.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, he immediately activated a long-range communication spell and summoned the other high-ranking figures stationed along the defense line. Within minutes, numerous portals lit up one after another, depositing powerful individuals of various races and appearances beside him.

Among them was a thin, elderly human mage wrapped in a voluminous cloak of starlight threads. His skin was pale and almost translucent, stretched tight over a frame that looked brittle as dried bark. But the magic that swirled around him betrayed the immense power he held.

The old man stepped forward, squinting at the battlefield with narrowed eyes. Though he couldn't see the black mist with his bare vision, his magical senses prickled. He felt the corruption, the wrongness, thick in the air like smoke.

After a long pause, he raised one bony finger toward the sky.

Golden energy burst forth from his fingertip, shooting into the heavens and detonating in a radiant explosion like a miniature sun. The burst shattered into a million fragments that gently fell like glowing raindrops, each drop made of condensed divine magic. The battlefield was bathed in soft, golden light.

And then, as though some curtain had been lifted, the truth was revealed.

Everyone could now see it.

The black mist.

It was everywhere.

A collective gasp echoed across the field.

"Hiss..."

"What... what is this?"

The mist wasn't just lingering—it was flowing. It moved like a tide, streaming steadily beyond the defense line, stretching off toward the horizon. The soldiers who had been busy stacking corpses and recovering weapons now froze, their faces pale, eyes wide in disbelief.

The demigods among them exchanged uneasy glances, their instincts screaming that this was not just some natural phenomenon. This black mist carried a message—an omen. It was the embodiment of something dark, ancient, and terribly patient.

They had seen countless horrors before. Demons. Curses. Aberrations.

But this?

This was something new.

Or perhaps… something very old, returning once more.

A deep and foreboding silence fell across the defense line. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

A few moments later, something changed.

A strange, overwhelming energy suddenly emanated from one of the demigods—a power ancient, vast, and noble in origin. The very air seemed to still for a heartbeat, then shudder beneath the pressure of that aura. It was as though some long-buried authority had awakened, a sovereignty older than kingdoms, one that had once commanded reverence from even gods.

The moment that aura rippled outward, the black miasma, which until then had been meandering and largely passive, reacted as if violently provoked. Like a swarm of snakes disturbed from their nest, a great surge of black energy roared toward them, forming a wave of seething corruption.

"Ssszzzle…"

The unnatural sound crackled through the air as the two opposing forces clashed—golden divinity against the black hearted. One demigod's expression twisted in discomfort and silent frustration. There was nothing he could do. His body instinctively rejected the black energy, his divine core recoiling from it with pure loathing, yet he lacked the knowledge to understand it—let alone fight it.

He wasn't alone. All around him, the other powerful beings on the battlefield could feel the dissonance vibrating in their bones. Something was deeply wrong.

Among them, an elven demigod narrowed his glowing eyes, his long fingers trembling as he studied the unnatural rain of energy. The sight stirred something buried deep in his memory—an ancient echo, the faint whisper of a long-forgotten tale. It wasn't clear, not yet, but it scratched at the back of his mind.

A few tense minutes passed as the defenders debated whether they should enter the increasingly corrupted zone within the defensive perimeter to investigate.

"BOOM!"

A deafening thunderclap split the air.

Without warning, the blue skies darkened. The transformation was instant, unnerving. The light faded. A thick, gloomy canopy of clouds unfurled above like the closing of a god's eye.

"Huuu-huaa…"

Then came the rain—fat, heavy drops pounding down upon them with the sound of marching armies. But this was no ordinary rain. It was blood-red, staining the ground and steaming against their armor.

The elven demigod, now deeply uneasy, stretched out his hand and caught a droplet in his palm. The blood-red liquid hissed against his skin. As he stared at it, realization struck.

His heart skipped a beat.

He remembered.

It was not a memory born of personal experience but of legend. A tale once told in soft tones around moonlit trees and sacred fires—myths so old they were barely believed even by the immortal elves. If the elves considered it myth, then it belonged to the time before time, to the primal dawn of the world.

"BOOM BOOM BOOM!"

Up in the thick red clouds, thunder rumbled again—only now it was different. Not just noise, but a rhythm. Thousands of jagged lightning bolts flashed in erratic, chaotic arcs, each crimson bolt illuminating the sky like the strokes of a painter gone mad. The world took on a blood-hued glow, like world itself had turned hostile.

The elf turned his head slowly toward the skeletal old man who had previously summoned the golden divine light.

"Have you… ever heard of the Ancient Evil?" the elf asked, his voice low and uncertain.

The old human's eyes narrowed at the question, his brow furrowing in confusion. "The Ancient Evil?" he echoed, as if tasting the words on his tongue for the first time in centuries. "That's a name lost to legend…"

He paused, visibly shaken. Though he'd dismissed such stories as superstition, now—standing beneath a bleeding sky—he wasn't so sure.

But as his mind made the connection, dread began to bloom.

"Are you saying… something like that is awakening nearby?" the old man asked, his voice almost a whisper.

The elf didn't answer right away. His gaze remained fixed on the storm above, where the lightning multiplied, and the pressure thickened like a noose tightening around their necks.

Finally, he spoke. "It's only a possibility," he admitted, "but everything about this… aligns with the signs."

The old man grit his teeth, his face sinking into a grim mask. "That's… very, very bad news," he muttered.

The elf nodded solemnly. "Yes. It is."

They both knew what it meant. The so-called Ancient Evils were not gods. They were far worse—primordial beings born of the world's first sins and cosmic imbalances. They were the collective incarnations of every forbidden desire, twisted emotion, and unbound chaos that ever existed.

Even the evil gods who ruled through corruption and blood cults paled in comparison. In the presence of the Ancient Evils, those so-called deities were little more than unruly children.

The Ancient Evils were unreasoning, bloodthirsty, and utterly mad.

Worse, they couldn't be killed.

They weren't beings in the conventional sense. They were concepts—walking manifestations of the universe's own flaws. Destroying their bodies, vaporizing their souls, even erasing them from the timeline—it changed nothing. They always returned.

Only a few of the highest-ranking deities—those who had ascended beyond even divinity—could fight such a being and survive.

In the ancient war, now all but erased from common history, the gods had joined forces with mortals in an unprecedented coalition. The resulting battle had nearly ended the world. Entire continents had vanished. Oceans boiled. Civilization teetered on the edge of extinction.

Ultimately, the Ancient Evils were sealed away—exiled to dimensions where even the gods dared not tread. It had taken unimaginable sacrifice to ensure they would never return.

And now… the signs of one such creature's reawakening were appearing here.

The old man turned pale. He looked around at the other demigods. "We… We have to consider retreat," he said hesitantly, his voice cracking. "If one of them truly returns, we're nothing but insects underfoot. A main god must be summoned… or we will all die here."

The skinny old man suddenly felt scared and wanted to seize the opportunity to run away.

That thing is really not something they can deal with. At least a god at the level of the main god must descend to fight against the ancient evil creature.

If they rely on just this group of guys alone, they will just have to fight to the death if they really encounter an enemy.

The others were silent. None denied the truth of his words.

This was no longer a battle of strategy or strength.

This was a countdown to catastrophe.

And they had just heard the first tolling bell.

*****

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