Chapter 611: The Road is Closed (5) - Shaking The Foundation

"As I was saying, to pass the road all you need to do is impress me," Klaus said, before going on to briefly explain what they would be doing.

There would be no battles this time—he’d seen enough of those.

Honestly, they weren’t bad, and a few had even managed to impress him.

But let’s be real... once you’ve reached a certain level of power, or at least witnessed it firsthand, the strength of lesser beings just doesn’t seem all that remarkable anymore.

And if there was going to be any fighting, it would be Klaus himself doing it. He was, after all, genuinely tired of being away from the clan for so long.

Returning to the matter at hand, the eighteen beings simply needed to place their hands on the orb.

The orb would then scan their very existence, revealing which Star they would possess as inhabitants of Pantheos.

Klaus hovered in the air, his expression calm and almost bored as he looked down at the group.

Behind him, inside the transparent sphere, Male’s head continued to violently explode and regenerate in a grotesque loop.

Blood splattered against the inner walls with each detonation.... repeating endlessly. Male’s body twitched and convulsed with every explosion, yet he remained conscious through all of it.

The champions watched in stunned silence.

A few of them instinctively took half a step back, their eyes flicking between Klaus and the horrific display.

One of the more composed champions — the tall figure wrapped in golden runes — swallowed hard, his voice slightly strained as he spoke.

"...You’re not going to stop that?" he asked carefully, gesturing toward Male.

Klaus didn’t even glance behind him. He simply tilted his head slightly, as if the question was mildly annoying.

"No," he answered flatly. "If I’m being honest.... I was only here to kill him anyways."

His expression then shifted to a smile.

"All of this... you see, it’s just repayment for my boredom."

At the casual revelation, the air grew heavier.

Several champions glanced at each other, their postures becoming more guarded.

Even those who had been composed moments ago now seemed to understand that the man floating before them had no interest in... seemingly anything.

The nonchalant way he dismissed the endless suffering right behind him made it obvious—Klaus didn’t think any of them were worth noticing.

And Male... he was simply an example.

Another champion, the one whose body was half-consumed by swirling darkness, muttered under his breath, just loud enough for those nearby to hear.

"...He’s not a part of the tournament?"

Klaus’s white eyes slowly swept across the group once more.

Then he suddenly paused, as if something had just occurred to him. A small, lazy smile formed on his face.

"Ah... I just had an idea."

Snap!

He raised two fingers and snapped them.

A swirling portal of black tore open in the air beside him.

From within it, a tall, sharply dressed man with slicked-back hair and a perpetual smirk stepped out. His presence carried a strange, chaotic energy, as if he existed slightly out of sync with this existence itself.

It was

Don

, the Host of Existential Crises.

Don adjusted his tie and looked around with mild curiosity before his eyes landed on Klaus.

"You rang?" he asked, his tone casual but carrying that signature theatrical flair.

Klaus gestured lazily toward the eighteen champions and the chaos unfolding within the sphere behind him.

"Think this would make a good episode?" he asked. "I’ve got eighteen survivors from a sort of final selection. They have to impress me if they want to walk the road into the Prime Expanse.

Thing is, if they fail, they die. But if they do impress me, they’ll get to see what my father has planned for them..

He paused for a second, then added with a faint smirk, "Thought it might be entertaining."

Don’s eyes lit up as he took in the scene — the silent, tense champions, Male’s head repeatedly exploding in a contained sphere of gore, and Klaus’s relaxed, almost bored posture.

"Ohoho... now

this

has potential," Don said, rubbing his hands together with clear excitement. "Tension, existential dread, and casual cruelty all in one package? I like it. I like it a lot."

Klaus nodded once.

"Good. Then let’s begin."

The moment those words left his mouth, the atmosphere shifted.

The Merchant was already frantically scrolling through her system interface, eyes darting as she searched for any skill, item, or escape route to get her out of this mess.

’These beings and their damn games... I’m not sticking around for it,’ she thought, knowing her role in Minx’s game was technically over.

She had taken Male as far as she could.

’If she wants my life, so be it—but I’m not dying here,’ she decided, scanning for anything that could send her to wherever the Prime Expanse might be.

Ancestor Seeker stayed in her circular form, though the ancient book beside her had flipped open on its own.

Her demeanor had become more guarded, as if she were already running through every possible scenario in her mind.

She wasn’t sure how Ash truly felt about her—last she knew, he had ordered her death.

The other champions sensed it too: the overwhelming gap in power.

They knew Klaus wasn’t just stronger; he was on an entirely different level of existing.

Hell, it hurt even trying to focus on him. Still, none of them had lasted this long by simply giving up.

A broad-shouldered champion wrapped in dark energy spoke first, his voice low but firm.

"...We didn’t come here to play games." He said, "If there’s another test, then fine — but don’t expect us to dance for your amusement."

Another champion, a woman whose body was composed of flickering golden threads, added coldly,

"I agree, we’re not your entertainment. If you want us to prove ourselves, then say it plainly. But don’t act like our lives are some kind of show."

While they spoke, Don had already begun moving around the group with theatrical energy, as if he were hosting a live broadcast.

His voice carried easily across the road.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special episode today! Eighteen champions who clawed their way through hell itself... now facing one man who doesn’t seem to care whether they live or die.

How exciting!"

Klaus didn’t bother responding to their words.

Instead, he just lifted his hand.

With an almost lazy wave, the Merchant and the Ancestor Seeker were gone—vanishing without the slightest hint or warning.

The suddenness of it made a few of the other champions flinch, their gazes flicking nervously around the space.

Klaus let a faint smile play at his lips.

’Hopefully Father won’t have an issue with her staying alive,’ he mused, already confident in his knowledge of the situation after just a glance.

He knew that Ancestor Seeker had caught Ash’s personal interest, and as for the Merchant... Klaus had his own ideas for her, ones that didn’t involve her ending up like the others might.

Lowering his hand, he turned his calm, white-eyed gaze toward the sixteen remaining champions.

"Now then," he said casually, as if nothing had just transpired. "Who wants to go first?"