Chapter 955: The evolution of Lords and Legends
The Zanis Homeworld had existed for billions of years — a planet nurtured by such an abundance of Origin Power that even the mightiest Lords of the cosmos would have burst apart had they tried to absorb it all at once. Its Laws were ancient, refined, and intertwined with the deepest mysteries of the universe. Merely standing upon its surface was to feel the pulse of creation itself.
And now, that miracle of existence was dying.
The planet’s core continued to collapse, compressing tighter and tighter, until at last it detonated in a blinding eruption of cosmic energy. The roar that followed echoed across light-years, rippling through the void like the death cry of a god.
The shockwave that tore outward was not merely energy — it was Law itself, raw and unfiltered. Fragments of the universe’s oldest truths were carried within it: gravity, entropy, light, time, and all the subtle harmonies that bound reality together.
Those caught in its wake were forever changed.
The White Death stood closest to the blast — barely a few hundred kilometers from ground zero. Even his body, forged through countless battles, trembled beneath the weight of the explosion. His armor cracked; the skin beneath burned and peeled away. Blood streamed from the corners of his mouth, vaporizing in the heat before it could touch the void.
Yet through the agony, he smiled.
A radiant, blood-slick smile stretched across his face as the radiation and cosmic essence seeped into his flesh and spirit particles, merging with his being. Each cell sang with transformation; his body and soul expanded, refined, strengthened to terrifying new heights. He could feel himself ascending, every fragment of pain transmuted into power.
Just a few hundred kilometers behind him stood the Archangel and the shadowy expanse of the Nightmare Universe.
Overlord’s Archangelic form was a Lord in both energy and flesh and blood. Though weaker than the White Death, he still possessed a might that dwarfed ordinary Lords. He stood unmoving, wings spread wide, enduring the cosmic storm. The radiant flames of destruction carved runes into his body, and he welcomed them all.
The Nightmare Universe behind him pulsed like a living void. After devouring both the Alien Lord and the Master’s Hand, it had ascended once more, becoming a Lord-tier lifeform in its own right. Its size was vast enough to blot out the stars — an ocean of darkness capable of swallowing entire worlds. The explosion struck its surface, and instead of harm, the Nightmare absorbed the energy greedily, its essence deepening, expanding, evolving.
Thousands of kilometers farther back stood Vlad and Altharion.
The True Depravita of Wrath had reforged his body into that of a Lord, his essence burning brighter than ever before. Altharion, the Crown Prince of the Graecia Empire, had used the crucible of war to push both his soul and energy pool to the threshold of Lordhood.
From their position, they could withstand the shockwave with relative safety — though even so, blood trickled from their lips, and cracks splintered their auras. But as the wave washed over them, their bodies began to tremble in resonance. The evolutionary energy fused into their cells, rewriting them on a molecular and spiritual level.
They were changing — becoming more.
Almost twenty thousand kilometers from the explosion’s edge stood the Half-Lords, including the remaining True Depravitas.
Unlike others, Jormungandr, Freya, Fafnir, and Ouroboros made no attempt to shield themselves. No barriers, no defenses. They opened their arms to the storm, allowing the shockwave of cosmic might to strike them directly.
Their skin blistered. Their internal organs ruptured. The pain was unbearable — enough to kill even the strongest Half-Lord outright.
But the Depravita Constitution was no ordinary body.
As fast as the destruction came, regeneration followed. Muscles rewove themselves, bones mended, and the radiation that burned them moments earlier now fused into the new cells being formed. Each Depravita grew stronger, their essence refining through the agony, their blood thickening with divine power.
All across the void, the Legends of the Graecia Empire adjusted their distance according to strength. The weaker the warrior, the farther they retreated, taking in just enough radiation to evolve without being annihilated.
What might have been death to others was a baptism of power for them.
Among the High Legends ranks stood the elite of the Xaos Kingdom — the Royal Guard and the Grand Marshal. Though still within the Legendary Realm, their bodies were far hardier than ordinary mortals, tempered by countless battles and strengthened after evolving into Nightmare Knights. They stood within the mid-ranks of the shockwave’s reach, their bodies cracking and reforming as divine radiation coursed through their veins.
The campaign against the Zanis Family had been their crucible. While Vlad, Overlord, and the others had fought across the Third Layer of Hell — slaying devils, tricking angels, and battling alien monstrosities — the armies of Xaos had waged their own war across the surface of the Zanis Homeworld. They had annihilated entire continents, rising into the ranks of the Legendary Realm.
At the outermost edge of the blast, where the shockwave was weakest yet still deadly, stood the Sages. They knew they could not withstand even a fraction of the true explosion, but even the faintest echo of that cosmic radiation could change their destinies.
They meditated within the light, letting microscopic threads of energy seep into their souls, tuning them to the Laws of existence. For them, this was a sacred opportunity.
Many had died in the war. Yet, in the aftermath of destruction, the Graecia Empire would rise stronger than ever. The death of the Zanis Homeworld would forge generations of warriors — each more powerful than the last.
When the thunderous echoes finally faded, silence descended upon the void.
Where once a thriving planet had been, there now floated a colossal nebula — a sphere the size of a small world. Its colors pulsed between silver and crimson, every beat radiating wild, untamed energy in all directions.
The sight was both beautiful and terrifying. The energies that flowed within it were chaotic and primal, fragments of the very Laws that had governed the world’s existence.
The Superior Legends gazed upon it with naked hunger. Within that nebula lay fragments of power greater than anything released by the shockwave — shards of divine law that could catapult a being to unimaginable strength.
Yet none dared approach.
The energy within the nebula was too wild, too unstable. It would break their souls in seconds.