Nero stepped through the gates, with Shire following closely behind. The guards to the left and right of the gate immediately greeted him by falling to their knees.

  He inhaled the rancid air—air so toxic that it would poison and kill any ordinary human within days. But Nero had long ceased to be a normal human.

  His dark, abyssal eyes swept over the scene before him.

  Hundreds of Polykenas roamed the main street, their harsh, grating voices filling the air as they conversed. Some argued while others engaged in brutal fights, their glowing yellow eyes burning with primal aggression.

  Most bore the same ash-gray or pitch-black skin as Shire and Fril, but few were slender Polykenas who moved among them, too, their skin pale and nearly paper-thin. That stark contrast marked the difference in the kind of magic they wielded.

  Polykenas with black skin possessed the ability to amplify their own physical strength—enhancing their bodies to dozens of times their natural strength. They could leap higher, move faster, and strike with devastating force. Shire's enhancement was so extreme that his skin was nearly impervious; Nero had once witnessed him bring down half a fortress with a single, earth-shattering punch.

  Meanwhile, those with white skin could manipulate the world around them. Xersies, his supreme general and the strongest of all Polykenas could bend and create light itself.

  A seemingly unimpressive ability—until one understood that he could unleash the full force of a star, reducing everything in his path to nothing but ash.

  A decade ago, Nero wouldn’t have stood a chance against Xersies. But after his latest surge in power, he was slightly more confident. In raw strength alone, he could now rival him.

  Yet strength wasn't everything. Though Nero appeared no older than twenty-five, he had lived for over fifty years—still a fleeting moment compared to the centuries Xersies had endured.

  In Polykenas society, no one was born into leadership. They carved their way to it through blood and slaughter. And Xersies had more than earned his place. His mastery over his magic was awe-inspiring.

  Nero exhaled slowly. How much longer would it take until he can reach that level?

  His expression hardened. No reason for self-pity. At the rate he was gaining power, it wouldn't be long before he caught up to Xersies—and even surpassed him.

  His gaze lifted toward the massive tower at the fortress’s center.

  He summoned his power with a single thought, feeling it surge through his veins like a roaring torrent. In an instant, it erupted from his body, coiling around him in writhing darkness. The shadows obeyed his command, launching skyward and carrying him effortlessly into the air.

  He landed gracefully atop the colossal tower. As the shadows withdrew and faded into nothingness, Shire appeared beside him, having scaled the structure in a single monstrous leap.

  Nero clasped his hands behind his back.

  "Shire, my cloak!" he commanded.

  Without hesitation, the towering Polykenas reached into a side pouch and withdrew a black cloak, handing it over.

  Nero draped it around his shoulders. This was no mere protection against the cold. The cloak was woven with thousands of intricate symbols—not embroidered with thread, but infused with the power of one of the black stones.

  It had taken Nero nearly a month to complete, and the process had almost failed due to his limited control over the stone’s energy. Only with Ramor’s guidance had he succeeded.

  This cloak was his greatest weapon.

  As long as he wore it, his magic was nearly doubled in potency, and it shielded him from any attack from behind. It wasn’t indestructible, but it was invaluable. The cost of a single Chaos Shard had been steep, but to Nero, it had been worth every ounce of sacrifice.

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  He gave a single nod before lowering himself to one knee.

  Pressing his palm against a small symbol engraved at the tower’s center, he sent out a pulse of magic.

  Instantly, it responded.

  Like a flood, his power poured into the symbol, which flared to life with an eerie blue glow. A sudden shift in his consciousness overwhelmed him.

  The symbol relayed its signal to another, then another, until thousands across the fortress activated in rapid succession.

  Nero felt them all.

  He felt everything.

  The fortress was no longer a structure of stone and iron—it was him. He sensed every living being within the colossal fortress, and in turn, they all felt his presence. It was an overwhelming sensation—one of immense power—yet he could feel it pushing dangerously close to the limits of his mind.

  Every Polykenas within its walls reacted to his presence, all movement and chatter ceased. They turned their gaze upward, eyes locked onto the black tower.

  Nero sent a command rippling through their very souls.

  A deep, chilling laughter rumbled from his throat.

  "Hahahaha! It is done. Polykenas, rejoice! This day will be immortalized in history. Today, our true war begins!"

  The fortress erupted in deafening cheers, but Nero wasn’t finished.

  "From this day forward, we will fight more battles. We will bring greater destruction. I will forge you into the most powerful army the universe has ever known! The very mention of the Polykenas will send entire civilizations into terror!"

  The cheers swelled to an earth-shattering roar.

  They screamed with joy. With bloodlust. With an insatiable hunger for war.

  They howled for the chance to burn the universe to the ground. That was why they chose him—because they all knew he would deliver. He would give them the universe. He would give them Chaos! And Chaos was the very core of their existence!

  Nero sent out one final call.

  "Xersies, come!"

  Barely two seconds passed before a brilliant light seared the air. When it faded, Xersies stood beside Shire, a wild grin stretching across his face,

  "Well said, my Duce!"

  Nero smirked coldly, ignoring the praise.

  He refocused his magic, pouring even more of it into the symbol.

  Sensing the sheer magnitude of power surging through the fortress, he knew this was only the beginning. The ability to feel everything within the stronghold was merely one of its three benefits—the least significant of them all. That ability, he could wield from anywhere, so long as he touched a connected symbol.

  But the second function, the very reason for the fortress’s creation, could only be activated from here.

  Nero willed it. Thousands of obscure symbols ignited again.

  The demand for his power and mind grew unbearable. His fingertips split, dark blood seeping from numerous little cracks.

  That was the first sign that he was using too much of his magic. The cracks would spread, creeping up his arm, toward his second heart—the core of his magic. He had no idea what would happen if they reached it, but he suspected the outcome would not be pleasant.

  He had barely contributed one percent of the magic needed for the fortress's secondary function, yet the first signs of strain were already showing. Still, he pressed on. He had already predicted that outcome.

  A shift in the air. The fortress was awakening.

  "POLYKENAS, LEND ME YOUR POWER!" he roared, sending the command through the fortress.

  Without hesitation, they obeyed.

  Magic flared to life across the stronghold, millions channeling their energy into the network of symbols.

  While that would resolve the issue of magic, what he hadn’t anticipated was the sheer intellectual strain the task required. He could never accomplish it on his own.

  "Xersies, bring me Ramor," Nero quickly ordered.

  Xersies obeyed immediately and vanished, reappearing half a minute later.

  Along with him came Neros' second general, Ramor.

  The moment he arrived, Ramor dropped to his knees, placing both palms upon the central symbol. He needed no instruction.

  Ramor was a symbolic—a master of the ancient markings. The greatest in the Polykenas army. He had designed the fortress himself, mapping out every symbol’s placement.

  Though his magic was not suited for combat, he was second only to Xersies in importance. Nero suspected he was even older than Xersies, yet the laws of their kind were absolute. Xersies had defeated him in battle and claimed dominance over the Polykenas. That was why Ramor despised him.

  Yet Xersies, ever cunning, had recognized his value. Breaking all Polykenas tradition, he had spared Ramor’s life and made him his second-in-command. A rare display of respect from a stronger Polykenas to a weaker one.

  After Ramor started helping him, the strain on Nero lessened instantly.

  With inhuman precision, Ramor manipulated the symbols, funneling the power of millions into the fortress’s core.

  At last, Nero felt this was enough. He nodded towards Ramor.

  Together, they unleashed the stored energy activating the whole raw power of the fortress. A foreboding hum, from the sheer magnitude of magic being unleashed, started to rise.

  The earth trembled.

  A violent quake rippled across the land, quickly spreading over the whole world. The air stirred, twisting into massive storms. But Nero had anticipated that as well. He had ordered Ramor to inscribe symbols across the entire wall to block the powerful winds. Still, an immense tremor shook the fortress! The winds were more powerful than he expected. They were nothing nature could have created.

  Like an insatiable black hole, the fortress devoured an unseen force—the residual magic of devastation itself. It drank from every ruined city, every burning forest. Every shattered mountain, every killed animal. It drank from every drop of blood spilled by the Polykenas in the last decades!

  It was the essence of pure chaos.

  It hurtled into the tower, colliding with the four massive symbols engraved in its walls bringing them to life. The energy coalesced, then erupted upward, surging through Nero, Ramor, Xersies, and Shire.

  Xersies howled with maniacal laughter. Even Shire smirked, a reaction Nero had rarely witnessed.

  But they were mere bystanders.

  This power was not meant for them.

  It ascended in a colossal beam, piercing the heavens. Just before the clouds, it vanished.

  Reality itself fractured as the power tore through existence—ripping open a path to a hidden realm.

  A dimension unseen by mortal eyes.

  The realm of the Polykenas!