Chapter 1272: Surrender

Suddenly, a hand pressed on Nostior’s shoulder, forcing him to kneel on the ground.

Thud!!

Nostior groaned as he felt the gravity increase several times over and an immense pressure bore down on his entire body. He slowly turned his head and saw a man standing beside him.

A man with flowing red hair, a pair of horns on his forehead, and eyes that contained immense energy. He was wearing a dark outfit clad in both darkness and light.

Upon seeing the man, Sers bowed politely and said, "Greetings to the Realm Lord."

The man was none other than Souta himself, his main body.

"Y-You...!!" Nostior gritted his teeth in anger while looking straight into Souta’s eyes.

Based on his friend’s reaction, this man was the one who was going to attack the three nations of the Depths of Banquet.

He then noticed a figure standing behind Souta and recognized him.

"Erlius...?!"

Nostior was shocked to see the King of the Bodam Kingdom here.

Erlius ignored Nostior’s stare. As the King of the Bodam Kingdom, he was already familiar with the Supreme Council of the opposing nation.

Souta nodded at Sers and sat down on the vacant seat. He glanced at Nostior and said, "The Tarrant Nation falls today."

His words ignited the anger in Nostior’s heart once again. "You...!!"

Souta continued, his tone calm and unwavering, "I’ve already infiltrated both the Bodam Kingdom and the Tarrant Nation. The Bodam Kingdom was the first to fall."

There was no room for doubt. The King of the Bodam Kingdom stood right here. Erlius, standing behind Souta, was living proof that the kingdom had already been subdued.

"I offered them the parasitic Essence Eater," Souta said, almost casually. "They believed it to be the key to immortality. In their desperation, most of their high-ranking officials willingly implanted it into their bodies."

A faint pause.

"And now... they have no choice but to kneel."

Erlius’s eyebrows twitched slightly upon hearing those words.

"And next..." Souta’s gaze hardened as it settled on Nostior, "the Tarrant Nation will follow."

With the lives of the Bodam Kingdom’s higher-ups bound to him, they would be nothing more than tools, sent to clash against the forces of the Tarrant Nation. His own army would remain in the shadows, supporting when needed, never fully revealing themselves.

And when the moment came, they would step forward and end everything.

Sers glanced at his friend and said, "Aside from me, Rancur has also surrendered to the Realm Lord."

Two out of the ten Supreme Council elders had already surrendered to Souta, leaving only eight.

Nostior understood what that meant and the realization struck him like a crushing weight. With the Bodam Kingdom already in Souta’s hands, the Tarrant Nation stood no real chance.

"One more thing," Souta added calmly. "The fate of the Rulman Household rests in my hands. With a single word, I can erase them."

Nostior’s pupils shrank. A chill crept up his spine as the last fragments of his confidence began to crack.

No... this can’t be happening...

If Frieda were here, if she were here... then perhaps they could still resist, still fight back against this overwhelming force. She was their pillar, their strongest blade.

But she wasn’t here.

And the Rulman Household...

It was already within Souta’s grasp.

A suffocating pressure settled in Nostior’s chest. Every path he tried to imagine led to the same end... defeat.

What they didn’t know was that everything that had happened to the Rulman Household had been orchestrated by Souta himself.

He had a total of three clones that entered the Depths of Banquet. One of them went to the Rulman Household, posing as a bodyguard. After encountering the Rulman Household, Souta had carefully laid out his plan to conquer the Depths of Banquet.

So when Frieda attempted to eliminate all the traitors within the Rulman Household, Souta intervened just enough to save Dihra’s life. Dihra knew nothing, throughout it all, Souta had been silently observing him from the shadows.

That was where the second clone came in.

It infiltrated the Bodam Kingdom and guided Dihra into making contact with the Kraken Clan. Using the information about the Rulman Household, Dihra managed to strike a deal with them. They would launch an attack on the household.

The Rulman Household still possessed immense power, so Souta devised a way to divide their strength by using the Sea Fiend Cave. He was also the one who allowed those monsters to become part of Dihra and the Kraken Clan’s plan. After all, his third clone had already become the second-in-command of the Sea Fiend Cave.

The Sea Fiend Cave was the force that allowed the Kraken Clan to enter the territory of the Tarrant Nation without anyone noticing. It occupied the eastern passage of Wave Bond City. In response, the Rulman Household dispatched four elders to assist the City Lord in subjugating the monsters of the Sea Fiend Cave.

With the four elders gone, Dihra and the Kraken Clan launched their attack on the Rulman Household. Kras’ah, an advanced fifth-stage expert, perished at Frieda’s hands, while Dihra managed to escape once again.

But Frieda was greatly weakened, defeating Kras’ah had not been easy.

And at that exact moment, Souta made his move.

He turned his blade against Frieda, striking her before she could recover to her peak.

It was a simple plan but executing it required sufficient strength. Without it, he wouldn’t have been able to save Dihra from Frieda’s hands... nor set everything into motion.

"Nostior... if you want to fight me, I’ll grant you that chance." Souta’s voice was calm. "But understand this... I will show no mercy."

His gaze locked onto Nostior’s, cold and absolute.

"I will erase you... and everything that bears your name."

A chill tore through Nostior’s spine. His body trembled not from fear alone, but from the sheer weight of the killing intent pressing down on him.

"Nostior," Sers spoke, his voice softer, yet unwavering. "You will become stronger if you submit to the Realm Lord."

He raised his hand. A strange, ethereal energy flowed from his palm, silent, formless, yet overwhelmingly deep. It twisted like a living dream, bending the space around it.

"I’ve seen the path ahead... and in it, there is a chance for you to obtain dream power."

The energy pulsed faintly.

"Just like mine... You could wield it too."

The legendary dream power.

A force so rare that only a handful in reality had ever touched it. A power that blurred the line between reality and dream itself.

Sers and Rancur had already stepped into that realm of power. They had entered the Blood Realm and claimed high-ranking seats through sheer dominance, crushing the monsters that once ruled those positions. One by one, they tore them down and took their place, forging a connection to the very core of the Blood Realm through the [Nightmare Mask].

The seats were limited.

But limitations meant nothing before overwhelming strength.

Even Tasman... would have no choice but to bow before them.

"I..." Nostior’s voice faltered.

His eyes were locked onto the shifting dream power in Sers’ palm. It was beautiful... and terrifying.

A power beyond him.

A path he could never reach, unless...

His thoughts fractured.

Fight... and be erased.

Submit... and gain power beyond imagination. His chest tightened. Breathing felt heavier with each passing second.

Erlius, standing silently at the side, felt a cold realization settle deep within him.

This wasn’t just infiltration.

Souta had already carved into the very foundation of the Tarrant Nation, quietly, precisely... leaving cracks that were now impossible to mend.

Sers, Rancur, and now... Nostior.

The three of them were undoubtedly the pillars of the Tarrant Nation. And beyond them, even the Rulman Household had already fallen into his grasp.

With everything aligned, the collapse of the Tarrant Nation was no longer a possibility, it was a foregone conclusion carved into fate itself.

"I surrender." Nostior lowered his head.

A heavy silence followed.

"You made the right decision," Sers said quietly, almost gently, as if soothing a wound that had already been decided by the world itself.

Souta’s lips curved into a faint smile. "Good."

His voice was calm but beneath it lay something far more terrifying.

"Then prepare yourselves. The army of the Bodam Kingdom will march toward the heart of the Tarrant Nation."

His plan was moving exactly as intended. Nothing could stop him from conquering the Depths of Banquet now.

’I will build it slowly... layer by layer... Until it becomes a force that can stand above any Holy Land or Great Country.’

Souta rose from his seat. His gaze drifted toward Nostior.

"I’ll leave the Tarrant Nation in your hands."

Then he turned away.

As for his next move, the Creasant Republic awaited.

If the three nations had stood united, even he would have needed to proceed with great caution.

But that possibility no longer existed.

The Bodam Kingdom was fractured under his influence. The Tarrant Nation was already collapsing from within.

And the Creasant Republic... would soon find itself standing alone.

No alliances. No coordination. No escape.

Only isolation, followed by his conquest.

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