Chapter 505: Monarch's Authority

Chapter 505: Monarch’s Authority

Max glanced down at the headless corpse of Demon Lord Kome as it slowly tumbled into the depths of the ocean, the ripples of blood already staining the waters below.

His face carried a strained expression, his breathing slightly heavy from the toll it had taken. Yet beneath that fatigue, a glimmer of satisfaction danced in his eyes.

“It worked,” he murmured with light excitement, as though testing a theory that had just been proven true. “Monarch’s Authority… a soul-based technique, truly terrifying in its power.”

The corners of his lips lifted slightly, not in pride, but in quiet acknowledgment of what he had just accomplished.

Though the act had nearly drained him—costing him almost half of his Green Soul Force—it was a price he gladly paid. After all, Demon Lord Kome hadn’t been some wandering lesser fiend. He was a peak Expert Rank demon, someone who was worshipped as a god in the Lower Domain.

And yet Max had killed him—effortlessly, without raising a finger. That fact alone spoke volumes about the potency of Monarch’s Authority.

Still, Max knew that others couldn’t replicate what he had just done. Even if they obtained the same technique, most experts in the Lower Domain lacked the foundation to use it effectively. Their soul force was too weak, fragile like thin paper compared to the steel of Max’s own soul.

His was at the Green Soul stage—the pinnacle of what was possible in the Lower Domain. It was this powerful soul foundation that allowed him to channel Monarch’s Authority to such a devastating degree.

More importantly, Monarch’s Authority wasn’t a skill—something one could just learn and activate—it was a technique, an ancient one that required delicate mastery and deep comprehension. That alone made it a rarity among rarities, a weapon that few could wield and even fewer could master.

This was a technique gifted to him by Blob—his spirit companion and whose knowledge often felt like it belonged to a being beyond the confines of this world. The technique itself was deceptively simple in its description, yet monstrous in its execution.

It worked not by overpowering the body or shattering defences, but by striking at the very core of existence—the soul. It instilled a creeping terror deep within one’s spirit, unraveling resistance and granting Max a form of absolute control through sheer soul dominance.

Even though that control was for just a few seconds, it was enough to change tides of a battle.

It wasn’t flashy, but it didn’t need to be. It was the kind of power that made warriors crumble without a blade ever being drawn.

As Max floated high above the ocean, his eyes scanning the distant horizon, Blob’s familiar voice echoed in his mind with calm approval. “You’ve done well. Even those who devote their lives to soul cultivation would struggle to wield that technique the way you did.”

Max smiled faintly, but didn’t let the praise linger. There was still much to do. Without a word, he resumed his flight, his body cutting through the air as the ocean stretched endlessly below him.

The sky had begun its slow descent into twilight, the sun dipping low, casting streaks of gold and orange across the waves.

Just as the last light began to fade, Max’s eyes caught sight of something far ahead—a dark outline, a promise of solid ground. Land. His heart stirred slightly at the sight. Without hesitation, he surged forward, his speed rising like a storm wind, slicing through the evening sky as he raced toward his next destination: the Valora Continent.

***

It didn’t take long for Max to reach the Outer Circle—a secluded belt of territory that wrapped around the East Region like a forgotten veil. Gliding low through its foggy expanse, he traced the secret path only a handful in the world knew about.

This path, long hidden and carved into existence by ancient hands, led him beneath the surface, beneath the ground and into the heart of a city that didn’t exist on any map.

His figure descended quietly from the sky, floating silently at the entrance of an age-worn city built from black stone and wrapped in eternal silence—the Hidden City of the Black Lotus Guild.

It breathed of mystery and age, every building whispering tales of a darker past.

As Max’s figure arrived in the city, two figures emerged from the shadowed edge of the square with no sound—Klaus, his long coat flapping behind him, and the Old Saintess, her eyes glowing faintly beneath her hood.

“What brings you here, Max?” Klaus asked with a familiar smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

But Max didn’t answer. Instead, his own expression unchanging, he asked in return, “What’s the situation in the Valora Continent?”

Klaus’s smile faded, replaced by a grim look. “It’s tense,” he replied, glancing toward the horizon as if the pressure itself hung over the air. “Every guild, every power is on edge these days. Since the news broke that Monarch declared war on the Lost Continent, people here have grown paranoid, expecting the same fate to reach Valora any day now. The tension’s thick. No one trusts anyone, and rumors spread like wildfire.”

His voice dipped low at the end, the weight of his words falling like dust on the ancient stones beneath their feet.

“Don’t they know that the entire army of the Monarch, aside from the three Commandments, was wiped out during the war?” Max asked, a frown forming across his face as the weight of the situation pressed against his mind. “Don’t they realize Monarch suffered a crushing defeat?”

His voice held a sharp edge, laced with frustration at the growing fear gripping the continent despite what should have been considered a victory.

Klaus let out a slow sigh, his shoulders sagging slightly. “They know,” he said quietly. “They know everything. They know Monarch lost the bulk of his forces. They know three of the Seven Commandments had fled when they lost the war.”

He sighed. “But because they know, they also understand what that means—that the next time Young Monarch wages war, he won’t underestimate anyone. He won’t hold back. He’ll unleash the full extent of his power, and when he does, Valora will be his first target. He’ll burn it down to make an example.”

Klaus’s tone grew darker as he continued, a grim look settling on his face. “And to make matters worse, word is spreading that some of the Crown Organisations from the South have aligned themselves with the Monarch. Maybe out of fear, maybe out of greed—it doesn’t matter. Their support only adds fuel to the fire. Whatever’s coming, Max, it doesn’t look good for us. The balance is shifting, and this time, we may not be ready when the storm hits.”

Max fell silent, his brows furrowing as he absorbed Klaus’s words.

Then, after a long pause, he slowly turned his gaze toward the woman standing beside Klaus—the Old Saintess. Draped in flowing black and silver robes, she stood still and composed, as if untouched by time itself.

Her presence alone exuded a quiet, ancient majesty, one that could only be forged through centuries of experience and battles.

“Isn’t she someone from the Middle Domain?” Max asked, his voice low, edged with curiosity. “Someone who has lived for ten thousand years? If that’s true, then her strength should be at the Divine Rank by now. Why doesn’t she just kill Drevon herself and end this war once and for all?”

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!