Chapter 583: Descent of Citadel
Left alone, Max stood in silence for a mont, then looked down at the ring in his hand. ‘The Middle Domain… the true mainland of geniuses,’ he thought, excitent quietly building in his chest. ‘I can’t wait to go there.’
Smiling quietly to himself, Max sat cross-legged on the smooth, glowing floor of the secret chamber and took out the storage ring Lenavira had given him.
With a thought, the ring flashed, and all two hundred Chaos Stones tumbled out in front of him, each one pulsating with chaotic energy that shimred like liquid stars trapped in crystal. The atmosphere around him instantly changed, thick with raw, unstable power.
Without wasting ti, Max extended his hand, and his black flas erged like tendrils, coiling around the stones one by one. He began to devour them, each stone disappearing in a burst of heatless fire, its energy absorbed directly into his body.
For the next hour, he sat unmoving, his aura rising with each passing minute, growing deeper, heavier, and more impenetrable. When the final Chaos Stone vanished into his palm, a quiet chi echoed in his mind.
—
[Dragon Scales increased by 167]
[Dragon Scales: 600]
—
Max opened his eyes slowly, a glint of satisfaction flickering in their depths.
‘With 600 Dragon Scales, he mused, my defense should now be strong enough to rival even a true Master Rank expert.’ He recalled how, just a few months ago, his 433 Dragon Scales had been enough to take a direct hit from Drevon without suffering any visible injury.
That kind of resilience was already unheard of. Now, with his defense bolstered even further, he felt like an indestructible force cloaked in mortal flesh.
‘Huh?’ Just as the thought faded, Max sensed a familiar presence—the subtle yet warm aura of Alice erging from the Chamber of Concepts. A faint smile touched his lips.
He rose and t her shortly after, the two of them slipping into a comfortable rhythm. They talked, they laughed, sharing small monts of peace that felt rare and fleeting in a world always on the brink of chaos.
The day passed quietly, wrapped in gentle conversation and shared silence.
From that point on, Max’s days found a steady balance. He spent ti with Alice, enjoying her company, and when alone, he returned to the Tower of Truth’s Dinsion of Ti, diving deep into training, refining his techniques and concepts with relentless focus.
Three days went by in this rhythm—Alice’s presence anchoring him to the present, while his training pulled him further into the future he was preparing for.
During one of their conversations, Alice shared that now that she had comprehended the Level 1 Concept of Flas, her mother had decided to take her to the Phoenix God Nation, one of the Four God Nations, which she was a part of.
Max felt a surge of happiness for her and sowhere beneath that, a quiet sense of relief. She would be safe, surrounded by power, in a place where her potential could bloom freely. He promised her that he would one day co to the Four God Nation.
On the fourth day, Max sat alone, leaning back casually against the chamber wall, lost in thought as he reviewed his plans. ‘I had intended to take care of Envoy Lucas and the Sun Faction,’ he reflected, his brows furrowing, ‘but with the Rulers now moving openly throughout the continent, it’ll be hard to act without attracting attention.’
The guardians had thrown a wrench into everything, their presence blanketing the Lower Domain with silent pressure. Still, so grudges couldn’t be ignored. And one na—Lucas—burned bright in his mind like a wound that refused to heal.
‘That bastard…’ Max’s eyes narrowed, dark with simring hatred. ‘All smiles. Pretending to care. Acting like a friend—only to strike when I was alone.’ The betrayal still stung. ‘No matter what, I’ll kill him.’ The thought was absolute. Calm or chaos, Rulers or not—Lucas’s end was already written.
But just then, Max froze, his Green Soul suddenly stirring with urgency—an instinctual warning he didn’t ignore. Without hesitation, he vanished from the chamber and reappeared at the top of the Tower of Truth, the wind howling around him as he looked up into the vast sky.
And then he saw it. His eyes widened in disbelief. “Citadel of Atherion…” he whispered, his voice lost in the wind.
Far above, barely a speck at first, a glowing object shimred in the sky, slowly growing in size as it descended from the heavens.
At first glance, it looked like a distant star, but within seconds, its form began to sharpen.
Massive, otherworldly structures took shape—towering walls, grand spires that spiraled with celestial runes, floating platforms encircling its base like orbiting moons. Its very presence distorted the clouds, parting the skies in rippling waves as it broke through the boundary between realms.
As it descended further, its true scale revealed itself—it was humongous, a fortress so colossal it seed to dwarf mountains. The Citadel looked ancient, ageless, and yet impossibly intact—its dark stone walls glowing with runes of light and flickering energy that pulsed like a living heart.
The core of the Citadel shone with a golden luminescence, wrapped in swirling veils of silver mist that gave it the appearance of sothing divine. The heavens above groaned, the clouds splitting apart as the citadel’s enormous shadow stretched across both land and sea.
At that very mont, the entire world began to tremble. The earth shook, not in destruction, but in awe—as if the land itself bowed to the descending behemoth. Mountains rumbled, oceans stirred, and beasts across the continents howled in instinctive reverence or fear.
In the Lost Continent, people were yanked from their daily lives and drawn into the air, rising through invisible force as if summoned by fate. Countless figures—experts, masters, demons, elves, and hidden experts—all appeared in the sky, eyes locked upward in stunned silence.
In the Valora Continent, the sa scene played out. From the snow-capped peaks of the northern ranges to the blazing deserts in the south, people paused and looked to the sky.
The Citadel of Atherion could be seen from every corner of the world, slowly descending like a divine kingdom returning to the mortal realm.
Even ordinary mortals who couldn’t sense energy or see spiritual phenona were drawn to it, as if sothing primal inside them recognized its arrival.
Max stood there, wind swirling around his figure, his clothes fluttering in the wind, as he stared at the majestic descent of the Citadel.
‘It’s begun…’ he thought, heart pounding with anticipation. The stage had finally been set—the Citadel of Atherion, the mythical place set to hold so of the mysteries of the Divine Realm was finally here.
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