Wizard: Starting With the Knights Breathing Method Chapter 2977: 606: Quasi-Giant Nora!
Previously on Wizard: Starting With the Knights Breathing Method...
"I... I got sealed by the Dusk Hall Master, almost dying out completely, but luckily, by employing the [White Bone Disintegration] method, I turned into a speck of dust and fled back to the Nightmare World, where I came back to life, though my cultivation level has dropped a bit.
Back then, I was extremely frail, and jumping into the fight would have been pointless, so I dodged the main conflict temporarily to safeguard the Nightmare's vital forces."
As they heard its account, numerous monarchs harbored no doubts. The Pale Monarch's fighting prowess was mediocre, yet its knack for enduring ranked high within Nightmare,
they simply felt annoyed by the Pale Monarch’s choices, but it made sense; if they were in its position, staying alive would always be the priority.
Looking at it differently, this was the least disastrous result amid the troubles. At the very least, the defeated monarchs numbered three, not four.
The Pale Monarch asked warily:
"Lord Lost, what’s our next move?"
The Lost Monarch replied in a hushed tone: .
"First, spend some time healing up, then team up with the Ignorant Monarch."
It couldn’t fathom why the Ignorant Monarch hadn’t struck when Nora’s troops were caught off guard, squandering the prime chance it had labored to set up.
Getting rid of the Shadow World was never the core objective.
Those shadow dwellers were merely clinging to existence.
The real disruptive element in this era is Nora!
The emergence of the Dusk Hall Master confirmed that.
Through sheer individual might, it altered the dynamics on the Shadow Battlefield, cutting down three monarchs and badly wounding another, accomplishments that even stirred a hint of caution in it.
...
Void Holy Temple.
Hera occupied the lofty [Death Throne].
"Indeed deserving of Sauron’s legacy, just hitting level-10 and already overpowering every foe, had it not met an early demise, ascending to Supreme was inevitable, I trust he’ll honor our pact... Supreme, maybe it’s time for me to make a move after all?
With the shadow on the verge of fusing with Nora, my handful of followers challenging the congress is pure delusion. If the Void Holy Temple can hold out until new realms emerge and discover a path out of this universe, we might seek fortunes elsewhere..."
Even as a woman, Hera despised subordination.
She yearned for thrills, mysteries, and domination.
...
Underworld.
Within the Netherworld Ancestor Hall, the grey-robed swordswoman’s eyes snapped open, a formidable and chilling intent spanning boundless space-time, conjuring a vague apparition before her, its form indistinct like a flayed figure.
The Master of Horror, envoy from the Nightmare World, demanded icily: "Is the Underworld meddling in Nightmare’s business now?"
The Nether Ancestor stayed composed, polishing the longsword she held, countering with: "Master of Horror, it’s been ages, are your wounds mended?"
"Hmph, if war’s what you seek, speak plainly, Nightmare will face it head-on, stop pretending neutrality while plotting in the shadows."
The Master of Horror vanished, leaving the Nether Ancestor unfazed.
The Underworld had no intention of clashing with Nightmare at present, as the Abyss remained the primary foe, and she refused to let those stellar bugs reap the benefits.
Regarding Leon near Levi, that was beyond her sway.
That seemingly ordinary youth, in a past existence, was poised to reach Supreme whenever he chose, yet he avoided it.
The restless soul opted for rebirth and renewal, aiming to experience a fresh path, turning into Levi’s companion. Save for the Mother River, no one held sway over him.
Currently, among the Underworld’s top three Nether Emperors, the third is the Reincarnation Emperor, the second the Life and Death Nether Emperor, while the First Nether Emperor’s throne sits empty.
This position was once held by:
Spirit Emperor Leon.
...
Inside the Pan-Plane.
The Fire Sovereign, Void Emperor, The End Dragon Bird, and fellow seasoned titans, upon learning of Nightmare World’s loss to the shadows, displayed varied reactions, with some gloating and others sighing in regret.
The Dusk Hall Master, who had ruled the Multidimensional Plane for thousands of years, had at last attained level-10; whether this signaled a fresh era’s dawn, none could say.
What was certain loomed as a bloody tempest across the upcoming Multidimensional Plane, where inconceivable deities and fiends would perish, mighty entities fade away.
Even millennia from now, should Nora fall.
This society and its band of mythic icons would etch a profound legacy into the Age History Book. Accomplishing feats that innate powerhouses like dragons and Frost Giants managed only through human form was miraculous enough.
...
Land of Darkness.
A particular battlefield.
Arrogance, Void, Sloth, Fury—the Four Great Demon Lords at late level-10—linked their qi, erecting a crimson-black barrier potent enough to daunt even level-10 pinnacles.
Opposing them stood more than ten subordinate gods and a True God with storm wings, rising endlessly tall, his divine spells unleashing in a torrent of supremacy.
"Four Great Demon Lords, what’s the intent here? Do you aim to ignite conflict between Nightmare and the astral realm?" Bolstered by the Subordinate Gods’ might, the Lord of Storms confronted the quartet solo.
"Hehe, Lord of Storms, clever scheme you’ve hatched, slipping in a God’s Incarnation amid our assault on Nora, spare us the tale that you visited the Multidimensional Plane for leisure." The Arrogance Demon Lord sneered,
The Lord of Storms responded:
"How on earth did you learn of my descent?"
The Arrogant Sovereign boasted:
"Thanks to our strategist Lord’s foresight, we saw through your schemes, return to the astral world... Nora falls under Nightmare’s claim!"
"Wishful thinking, Nora serves as my domain of belief already, I merely reclaim what’s mine, since when did the astral world cower before your Nightmare?"
"Then let combat reveal the victor!"
The conflict between the factions had raged for years, with no concessions from either, mired in stalemate, until shadowy tendrils appeared, outlining the Lost Monarch’s silhouette.