Chapter 142: Eularis

Within the lonely grand hall, as Bill and the other departed, tranquility slowly returned. Amidst this calm, Aedus rose silently, lifting his gaze toward the distant horizon.

After thirty years of recovery and respite, coupled with the ensuing population growth and the widespread cultivation of fighting spirit, the power of the world was gradually restoring itself. The world’s strength was intimately tied to the beings dwelling within it; as life proliferated and grew stronger, so too did the world’s own vitality increase inexorably.

Consequently, a force several times greater than before now swirled around Aedus’s form, constantly absorbed by him in every moment.

“Originally, according to my senses, with the governance over these years and the restoration of the world’s power, the demonic tide should not arrive for at least another decade,” he murmured. “Yet now, it has come prematurely.”

He sensed a strange aura beginning to spread throughout the world, the previous barriers utterly shattered.

“Is it the work of the Demon God?” the thought flickered in his mind.

At that moment, two figures gradually entered the hall’s threshold.

One was a slender youth of unparalleled beauty, bearing some resemblance to Aedus. A faint crimson divine mark adorned his forehead, and within his golden eyes shimmered a subtle trace of blood-red, radiating an awe-inspiring presence.

“Father, has the demonic tide broken out again?” the youth approached Aedus with curious eyes.

“Olaris, you have come?” Seeing the boy, Aedus’s face softened, and he smiled in response.

From his vision, he could clearly perceive the pervasive aura of slaughter enveloping the youth, a fragment of the divine slaughter nature he had inherited.

“I wish to see the battlefield for myself,” Olaris said, hesitating briefly before making the request.

Hearing this, Aedus sighed softly yet did not object.

Within the boy’s eyes, he discerned a yearning, a profound pull.

This was the force of the world. As the heir to the divine slaughter nature, Olaris was born for this very destiny; he possessed a natural affinity for the battlefield.

“Having inherited the divine slaughter, how could you not set foot on the battlefield?”

This thought crossed Aedus’s mind. He then smiled gently and said, “Come with me.”

He led the youth toward another chamber, retrieving a long jet-black sword from a long-sealed armory.

Olaris was momentarily stunned. For some reason, upon seeing the sword, a faint sense of familiarity and attraction rose within him.

Aedus handed him the blade. Instantly, the jet-black sword began to change; its original luster faded, gradually turning into a deep crimson.

“What is this?” Olaris blinked, somewhat at a loss.

“You seem well-matched with this sword,” Aedus chuckled softly from ahead.

“This sword is called Krisia.”

Olaris lifted his gaze. “That sounds like a human name.”

“A name once borne by a knight,” Aedus shook his head. “From now on, this sword shall be your companion.”

He stroked the blade, smiling at the youth.

Seeing this, Olaris pondered briefly before accepting the sword.

...

That very month, at Aedus’s command, countless troops within the Aedis Empire were mobilized.

After prolonged accumulation of strength, the empire’s military had grown substantially. Though the formal legions remained limited in number due to high recruitment standards, local reserve forces were abundant. All were summoned under Aedus’s orders, marching toward the various regions afflicted by the demonic tide as planned.

Aedus himself led several elite battalions stationed near the imperial capital, advancing toward the nearby northern border.

Thanks to prior preparations, this large-scale expedition did not significantly disrupt domestic life. Although prices for essentials like grain rose somewhat, they remained within manageable limits, causing no great hardship.

Under such circumstances, Aedus could devote himself fully to confronting the external demonic tide.

In the ensuing six months, demonic tides erupted across border regions with unprecedented ferocity. The suppressed demonic energies of countless years seemed to explode all at once, swelling to a scale never before witnessed.

Among these forces, many third-tier demonic beasts appeared, and even the previously concealed calamity-grade monsters surged forth wildly. Though few in number, they dealt the most devastating damage.

After all, this was a world where extraordinary powers manifested; a single calamity-grade beast, without comparable might opposing it, could annihilate an entire duchy, far beyond the resistance of ordinary cannon fodder.

Fortunately, due to years of faith propagation, nearly the entire Aedis Empire now worshipped the God of Nature. This vast following increased the presence of high priests, who collectively managed to hold back the demonic tide, albeit barely.

...

Beneath the northern border’s city walls, a youth with golden eyes brandished a crimson long sword, fiercely battling on the battlefield.

“Bloodstrike!” he shouted, eyes narrowing as a powerful combat technique unleashed, cleaving a demonic beast—one that could rival a terrestrial knight—cleanly in two.

“Prince Olaris!” countless onlookers cheered, gazing upon their prince with profound admiration.

Sensing this scene, Olaris gasped for breath, while an odd feeling stirred within him—half excitement, half familiarity—as though the battlefield was his true home.

Moreover, a faint awareness blossomed in his heart. As he clashed with demonic beasts, his strength rapidly grew, as if absorbing the power of the fallen.

If Aedus stood beside him, he would clearly see how pure slaughter energy began to rise from the corpses of beasts scattered upon the earth, drawn inexorably toward Olaris’s body.

Suddenly, a frenzy of demonic roars echoed ahead, mingled with the fearful cries of knights.

Frowning, Olaris advanced without hesitation, stepping forward with inexhaustible vigor, continuing his slaughter upon the battlefield.

“Truly worthy of Prince Olaris,” many generals remarked on the other side, their faces filled with astonishment and respect. “Such bravery and power—he is indeed the bloodline of His Majesty.”

On the city wall, Aedus, who had been gazing afar, paused and looked down.

“Has the divine slaughter nature begun to awaken?” he murmured.