Chapter 879: Lord Tier battle power

The Graecia Empire was gargantuan, spanning hundreds of worlds and holding a population so vast it could scarcely be quantified. Entire galaxies bowed beneath its banners. Yet in this chamber, deep within the White Blade, was gathered the true core of its military might—the apex predators of the cosmos, the men and women whose strength could shatter civilizations in days. In thirteen groups they sat, each force made up of Legends whose power was capable of leveling worlds and reducing them to nothing but ash and ruin.he Emperor’s presence pressed down on them like a mountain, but they stood unwavering. His voice, when it came, was sharp, commanding, resonant with absolute authority.

"Display your strongest state," he ordered. "The one you can sustain throughout the war."

Altharion, the Crown Prince, reacted instantly. For him, there was nothing more sacred than his father’s command. His eyes gleamed, sharp with resolve. With a gesture, the ten rings upon his fingers dissolved into radiant motes, each transforming into a Divine Treasure of breathtaking majesty.

Gasps rippled through the chamber. Even the Superior Legends present could not disguise their awe. The treasures radiated such overwhelming force that each, on its own, could elevate their strength by several levels. And Altharion wielded all ten.

"Aegis of the First Light," Altharion intoned.

The treasures merged seamlessly with his body. A roaring tide of energy erupted, engulfing him in a pillar of divine radiance. His aura swelled, surging higher and higher until even the mightiest present shifted uneasily. Then, before their stunned eyes, the treasures fused into a single, magnificent whole.

Where once had stood a prince, now stood a warrior clad in majestic celestial armor—a full set, each piece interlocked, the power of the ensemble far beyond the sum of its parts.

The brilliance faded, and the chamber fell silent. The Crown Prince’s power, though contained, thrummed like a star beneath his skin. His armor shone with a divine luster, every plate—from gleaming pauldrons to burnished greaves—engraved with flowing runes that seemed less inscribed than alive, glowing with celestial script.

The helm bore a regal crest like a crown of light, its edges streaming radiance. Shadows concealed his face, yet light seeped from every seam, suggesting that his very soul burned as fire. And in his hands, he grasped a colossal spear, a glaive forged of golden flame, its edge keening with the resonance of a god’s decree.

The weapon was not merely carried—it served as a living conduit, channeling torrents of divine energy that spiraled in radiant arcs around the Crown Prince. His armor no longer seemed like simple protection; it was a mantle fit for a god of war and judgment, forged to magnify his essence until his power surged beyond the Legendary Realm.

The aura that poured from Altharion was overwhelming, a tide of divine radiance that drowned the chamber and even seemed to eclipse the Xaos King himself.

Vlad could not help but glance at him, and for a second, he allowed himself a spark of admiration. The Crown Prince’s might was truly awe-inspiring. Yet Vlad’s sharp mind also noted the truth—though it was granted by a divine set of treasures, the power of such artifacts was never independent of their bearer. Divine Treasures resonated with the will and soul of the one who wielded them. No other in the chamber could have produced this terrifying majesty.

But there was no time to linger on admiration. It was his turn.

"I lost the Brain of Thoth when my own brain was shattered," Vlad murmured to himself, his thoughts calm yet resolute. "But with the Red Sun of Wrath to enhance both my spirit and psychic might, I should be able to resist without weakness."

He turned toward his three companions—a small yellow cat, a white werewolf, and a fire dragon. With a thought, his forehead split with three glowing sockets, empty but waiting. Immediately, the three True Moon Depravitas dissolved into streams of pure psychic essence, flooding into the sockets with blinding brilliance.

Three new eyes opened across Vlad’s face, each swirling with unnatural power. At that instant, his aura erupted like a storm. His body trembled with unleashed might, and the force of his presence shattered the restraints of the Legendary Realm. The oppressive divine radiance of Altharion’s Aegis of the First Light was shoved back by the raw psychic tides that surged from Vlad.

Shock rippled through the assembly. Leaders of entire factions stared at him, their stern masks cracking with awe and disbelief. Stories of Vlad spread across every corner of the Graecia Empire. He was whispered of as a Legendary Runic Master, a man whose innovations had carved out an entirely new system of strength built upon Demon Souls.

He was the first to breach the Voidheart Stronghold of the Voroes within the Land of the Three Calamities, a feat that had shaken the Doomsday World. There were even rumors of his exploits within Valhalla itself, where he was said to have matched powers that neared the Lord Tier. But for many, these had remained only tales—exaggerations born of rumor and retelling.

Now, as the chamber trembled with the resonance of his ascension, there was no room for doubt. Stories paled before the truth witnessed by their own eyes. Vlad, the Xaos King, stood before them as something far greater than they had imagined.

His aura soared, unrestrained. Even as awe froze the gathered warriors, one truth rang clear.

The Xaos King’s presence stood unmistakably within the Lord Tier.