CHAPTER 78

It was time for the altar to once again demonstrate its power through high-level summonings. After several conquests and the unlocking of reserves filled with gold, jewels, and artifacts from the treasuries, a massive influx of resources from both the southern and northern territories flowed into its stockpile. This granted Hazard the ability to finally accomplish what he had been striving for weeks.

With nearly two billion gold coins, eight hundred thousand death jewels, and a vast number of level five and six hero souls—more than enough to avoid any concerns of scarcity—he initiated his summoning with full confidence.

Spending five hundred million gold and five hundred thousand jewels, he summoned a hundred Undead Warlord champions at level two. Their formidable presence displayed the grandeur of the Undead race. The newly summoned champions, each with distinct appearances and combat styles, stood still, scrutinizing Hazard with intense gazes.

"I wonder what the other one is doing?"

Hazard recalled an Undead he had left behind in the northern kingdom and attempted to establish a mental link, only to find it impossible due to the vast distance.

The champions, initially resistant to submission, were forced under control through his old skill—the Eye of the Death God. Upon activating it, he not only subdued them but also gained additional insight into their abilities. However, amidst his observations, he sensed an overwhelming power—something far greater than anything he had encountered before—sending a chill down his spine.

"What kind of hell was that?"

The immense force he had detected was incredibly distant, and he reassured himself with this thought.

"Direct them south, toward Artemis' army."

After issuing the order to the Arch Lich beside him and ensuring the loyalty of the champions, he proceeded with the next summoning—one he had an uneasy feeling about. The moment he performed it, he understood why.

Thirty Death Kings emerged, some of whom were Death Queens. They radiated powerful auras, their gazes immediately locking onto Hazard.

"I have waited for so many years..."

"A summoner barely at the early epic level? What a disgrace!"

"My power has diminished greatly... Curse the Abyss! If those damn Netherlords hadn't interfered...!"

These were once mighty rulers whose strength had once dominated entire worlds. Now, they had been summoned, and Hazard realized that dealing with these thirty Warlord Rank 2 beings would be even harder than managing the four hundred epic-ranked creatures imprisoned within his dungeons—because of their pride and past glory.

"I do not care if you once ruled continents or entire worlds!"

Some of the entities, towering up to thirty meters, and others more human-sized, turned their skulls toward him, the flames in their eyes burning intensely.

"You have been given new life in this world through my summoning! You were once lost, but now you live again!"

Then, he unleashed the magical barrier concealing the auras of his four hundred epic-ranked Undead, allowing the Death Kings and Queens to feel the sheer power of his army.

"With this new life, I expect you to regain your former glory! To once again wear the crowns you once ruled with! Through your united strength, new rulers shall rise! Break your limits, surpass even your past selves!"

The Death Kings and Queens, all masters of oration in their own time, immediately recognized that they were dealing with no ordinary leader. Realizing the opportunity before them, they exchanged glances. After a moment of silence, each raised their weapons high.

"Swear the Divine Oath!"

Hazard quickly formed a sword of pure death energy, lifting it to the sky. From his studies, he had learned of this ancient universal ritual, though his knowledge of it was limited. However, he sensed that among the summoned figures, some were once gods themselves.

"Oath to the Pantheon!"

"Oath to the Pantheon!"

A covenant was sealed—one that transcended dimensions. Some beings had dedicated themselves entirely to upholding this oath, one whose sole purpose was to elevate them to godhood and establish their own Pantheon.

Hazard's eyes gleamed with realization. These beings were not ordinary; they were former rulers of realms whose past strength had likely surpassed even demigods.

Meanwhile, a hundred kilometers away from the battlefield where the Demon King's raiders fought, the most powerful members of House Loth had gathered. With an army surpassing five hundred million troops, they prepared to advance ahead of the Empire's main force. Their goal: force the Demon King to reveal his hidden cards.

Duke Garrett and Gavin, along with three other high-ranking dukes of House Loth, placed their hopes on their preparations, confident in their ability to counter the Demon King's epic-level creatures.

The Empire's main army remained further back, preoccupied with securing its ports. An unprecedented force had landed—mighty warriors from the Green Continent of the Elves—marching into Imperial territory with unimaginable power.

From the Empire's perspective, this new threat was even greater than the southern war. The speed of conquest between the two forces was simply on different levels. Reports indicated that the Darkness was regaining its power, preparing to reclaim its lost lands.

In yet another region, the North, a grim reality unfolded.

After days of battle against Lancelot's army, Dietrich—forced to retreat—finally returned to his capital.

But he was met with an unthinkable horror.

His entire capital—with a population of four hundred million—had been annihilated. Not a single survivor remained.

Even the livestock had not been spared.

Dietrich had returned with his royal army, expecting to reunite his soldiers with their families. Instead, they searched every home, desperately hoping to find signs of life—only to discover abandoned clothes and jewelry, everything except for gold.

Then, a faint pulse of life was detected from the palace.

Immediately, Dietrich and his elite warriors rushed toward the throne room. But upon arrival, they froze in shock.

Upon the royal throne, a shadowy, mist-like figure sat, and before it lay the Queen of Ice, her body bearing deep wounds—both physical and spiritual.

Surrounding them, a hundred ghostly entities hovered. The sheer abyssal energy they exuded was indescribable, pure darkness incarnate, awaiting only their master's command to devour the newly arrived warriors.

"You're too late, K.I.N.G!"

With a booming laugh, Lucas casually tossed the Queen's lifeless body aside, activating his own magic—his power surging to terrifying new heights.

Dietrich, his expression now deathly serious, raised his massive white axe, carefully surveying his surroundings. His warriors followed suit, bracing themselves.

They were facing an enemy who had wiped out the entire royal capital, including the Queen, the central army, and the castle's guards.

The situation was clear—losing focus for even a second would mean certain death.