Chapter 84: The World Event
Time moved forward like a greased gear.
With Min among them, the Dead Hands changed shape, sharper, heavier, more dangerous. They weren't the biggest name in Shatterbay, but they'd earned their place. A gang that bowed to no one.
Of course they still sent their monthly tribute to the Woon Corporation, everyone did, but that was the only leash around their necks. The rest of their time went into holding ground for dungeon farming, and making sure no one stole what they bled for.
Three years passed that way. Until the sky split, and the Network spoke.
The World Event.
The Dead Hands didn't join the fighting, too far above their pay grade, but this time the breach opened close. Not close enough to threaten Shatterbay… just close enough to make idiots curious.
Seo-jin had been the biggest idiot of them all.
He'd gathered a small team, said they'd only watch, see what a real event looked like. They could've warped straight to the site if they'd accepted the quest, but that meant being thrown into the slaughter. So they walked.
The Wastes outside the Freelands were a graveyard of forgotten dungeons. Everywhere they went, there were carcasses of half-formed worlds, cracked stones still humming with mana, air thick with the stink of magic rot.
When a dungeon went uncleared, it broke, spilling its guts into the land. Fae roots. Abyssal filth. Demon rot. No two breaks looked the same, but every one warped the ground into something that wanted you dead.
Luckily, the realms fought each other as if driven by instinct; humanity was just a side casualty when their forces met. That was the only reason cities like Shatterbay still existed.
Traveling the wastes demanded silence and luck. The Dead Hands had neither.
But curiosity won.
Min had argued the trip was suicide, but the promise of seeing a King in motion just once was too much to turn down. So she went.
They trudged through forests where the trees whispered names that weren't theirs. Through Abyssal swamps that stank of copper and bone, where the water shivered like it remembered drowning something human. They skirted the edges of Hellscape fractures, the soil soft with old flesh, the sky black and twisted.
It took a week to get through. One man didn't make it. The first sign they were close came with the smell. Iron. Thick and wet. It stuck to the back of their throats until every breath tasted like blood.
Then came the light. The ground trembled like a beast underfoot.
Seo-jin walked faster. Then faster again. By the time the horizon burned white with energy, he wasn't avoiding anything anymore, he was cutting straight through it, dragging them behind.
They crested a ridge, boots sliding through black mud. The air hummed, heavy and wrong.
And below them—the world was ending.
It was an Abyssal bleed. The world below them had drowned. Miles of land gone under a black sea that breathed like a living thing. Waves rose and folded, each one dragging bodies down as rain hammered from a sky split with lightning.
An army of users fought across what was left of the surface, tiny islands of stone and soil pulled from the depths by geomancers trying to hold ground. Even from the ridge, Min could see the lines break and re-form, the chaos folding around points of power like storm eyes.
Seven of them. Each one a beacon of killing intent. Generals. Commanding squads of shard-users who tore through the surf with fire, frost, and steel.
But the enemy looked alien to Min.
They were shaped like men but only at a glance. Faces hidden behind shell masks shaped like drowning screams. Skin the color of midnight oil, their bodies catching rainbows of light. Arms too long, legs corded like anchors. Tentacles unfurled from their backs, slicing through armor, dragging prey into the tide. When they screamed, it came out like the sound of drowning, wet and endless.
Min couldn't breathe. Every instinct screamed to run, to get away from that stench of salt and rot. But her eyes stayed fixed, caught between awe and disgust.
Her system couldn't even register their ranks. Whatever they were, they existed beyond the scope of what it understood.
Then...movement. The human lines began to close ranks, formations tightening. The water itself started to churn red with corpses. Slowly, impossibly, the tide of the Abyss began to break.
Min's chest eased for half a heartbeat—
Then the sound hit.
A horn, low, wet, and deep, howled across the flooded plain. It didn't just echo. It pushed. The air shook. Their teeth rattled. Every person with her dropped to their knees, hands clamped over their ears as blood started to drip between their fingers.
The war below froze.
Something massive moved beneath the surface, slow at first, then violent. Five shapes broke through the black water, each rising higher than the last. Flesh and shell twisted together, dripping kelp and blood. Their eyes burned with the same cold hunger as the sea itself.
When they breached, the battlefield broke. The tide shifted, smashing apart the man-made islands, scattering users like insects. One of the giants swung its limbs and erased an entire platoon with a single strike. The others followed suit, each a different nightmare, each feeding on the screams that followed.
The seven human generals below reacted at once. Their auras ignited, lighting the storm like flares of living power. The ground cracked, lightning screamed, and the air thickened with raw pressure.
"They're at least S-Rank."
Min flinched at the voice. Seo-jin stood beside her, rain carving streaks down his face, eyes locked on the slaughter below.
"What the hell are those things?"
"No clue. But I recognize a few of them down there. Immortal Kingdom's leading the charge. Tech Kingdom's backing them. The rest must've sat this one out."
She squinted at the fighters...robes torn, bodies glowing from inner light, martial strikes that bent the elements themselves. Others wielded glowing rifles or exosuits that pulsed with shard energy, each blast carving holes in the tide.
"Where are the Kings?"
"Kings don't show until the real fight starts. These five aren't the boss—just gatekeepers. The raid boss probably won't drop until the guards die. Might even be two, three more phases before that."
He looked back down at the carnage, shaking his head.
"World Events aren't adventures. They're meat grinders."
It was true. War didn't fit the word.
It was butchery, thousands against the impossible. For every monster that fell, five humans followed. Blood fogged the air. The sea turned red and thick. Skills went off like artillery, streaks of light and sound cutting through the storm, and still the abyss kept rising, kept feeding.
Min gripped the mud beneath her knees, heart pounding against the carnage.
This wasn't a battle. It was the world tearing itself open.
After what felt like hours, the first guardian finally fell.
A roar tore the sky open, a general's aura flared gold, burning through the storm. He raised his arm, and a colossal bell of light formed above the sea, its surface etched with shifting runes. It dropped like judgment.
The impact cracked the horizon.
The bell rang once, clean and hollow. The second toll rippled through bone. The third shattered the sound of war itself. Every human froze, breathing calm through the haze of blood. Every monster clutched its skull and screamed as their bodies split under invisible pressure.
Then the bell vanished—and so did the beast.
The silence that followed lasted only a heartbeat before the line broke forward again. Freed to join the others, the generals cut loose. Their attacks carved through, ripping the sea apart. One after another, the remaining four titans fell, their deaths shaking the ocean flat. Each collapse drained the lesser creatures, their movements slowing, their roars turning to wet, choked gasps.
Min couldn't breathe. Her nails tore her palms open as she leaned forward, eyes wide, watching the tide turn. The humans were driving them back. Blood and steam merged into mist.
"Where's the boss? Shouldn't it—"
The question died on her tongue.
The water in the center of the battlefield began to churn, violent enough to swallow the screams. Human and monster alike vanished beneath the frothing black.
The surface boiled.
Even from the hilltop, Min could hear the hiss of flesh cooking alive. Shapes thrashed beneath the steam, dissolving mid-scream. The front lines broke, raiders stumbling backward, retreating toward the waiting generals.
The seven auras flared again, blazing like suns in the storm, light cutting through the dark rain. Healers poured their energy into the front. Buffs stacked layer after layer. The ground trembled as the sea swelled higher—boiling into a wall of churning blood and vapor.
And then the ocean burst.
From the wound, something vast clawed its way up. Water peeled from its hide in sheets as the shape took form...black, skeletal, endless. The sky dimmed around it, clouds bending toward the thing as if dragged by its gravity.
It rose slow, like it had all the time in the world. Each movement of its limbs sent walls of water crashing across the battlefield, swallowing men, monsters, and machines alike.
When it finally stood, it blotted out the horizon.
A crown of jagged bone jutted from its skull, each point slick with brine and blood. Its torso was carved with deep grooves that glowed faintly blue, veins pulsing like molten glass beneath flesh that never stopped shifting. Slick, translucent, and full of moving shadows. The thing's ribs had grown outward into hooks and cages, each impaling something that still twitched.
Wings hung behind it, if they could be called that. Torn membranes of sinew and coral, webbed with veins that pulsed like dying hearts. And from its back, tentacles, hundreds, snapping and coiling, dragging through the sea like anchors.
The rain hit its skin and evaporated.
Its head tilted once, slow and deliberate, as if acknowledging the humans below. The sound that followed wasn't a roar. It was the grinding of the ocean floor, the creak of a planet shifting under weight not meant for it.
Every creature on the field dropped to its knees. Every light dimmed.
The Network screamed.
[!! WORLD EVENT // RAID BOSS EMERGENCE CONFIRMED !!]
[Designation // Abyssal Warden — The Fifth Drowned King]
[Rank // SSS]
Min couldn't look away. She didn't breathe, didn't blink. Her stomach turned cold as the truth sank in. This was extinction.
Even from miles out, it felt like the sky was collapsing on them. The air itself weighed tons. She couldn't breathe. Every heartbeat hit like a hammer inside her ribs. Even her shard felt muted, like it wanted to hide.
The aura pressing down wasn't just power. The others had already gone limp, one by one dropping where they stood, eyes rolled white. Even Seo-jin, stubborn bastard that he was, dropped to a knee, his skin slick with sweat and blood from burst capillaries.
Min followed a second later, her jaw clenched so hard she felt her teeth grind. And then...something tore through the pressure.
Light cut the sky, burning through the storm, and a new aura slammed against the first, pure, electric, and human. The air snapped between them like a live wire.
A voice broke the silence, sharp with joy.
"Finally! I was getting bored. Let's go old man!"
Min turned toward the sound, and when she saw him, her mind refused to believe it. The shape descending through the clouds wasn't just human. It was a boy.
Black hair spiked back, grin wide and fearless, the kid floated down on a glowing platform. Thin body wrapped in a bodysuit veined with blue circuitry and crawling data glyphs. His aura crackled in arcs around him, slicing the rain from the air.
The Tech King.
He hovered over the battlefield like a storm given form. The raid boss turned to meet him, its eyes, bottomless pits of light, locked onto the new arrival. It roared.
The sound was a violation. Min's bones shook. Her nose bled. But then the world flashed white. The roar cut off—severed mid-note.
Another voice followed. Calm. Cold. Ancient.
"You should learn control, boy. Patience is a weapon. Lose yourself, and you lose the blade."
From the clouds stepped another figure descending a staircase of solid light. His robes trailed behind him, white embroidered with shifting silver dragons that coiled like they were alive. His long black hair moved without wind. His hands stayed folded behind his back. His presence was quiet but crushing.
The Cultivation King.
The boy sneered, sparks crawling off his shoulders.
"Preach to someone who cares, old man. Laggin ain't my style."
The older King's smile barely moved. His tone was a sigh.
"If you insist on rushing toward death first, I'll let you. I'll clean up the pieces afterward."
And as the words faded, the storm answered, light bending, clouds ripping open.
The real war had begun.