Chapter 138: Saving Arianna 4: Confrontation With The Overlords
"Why are you destroying everything?" the girl's voice came from behind Jack, soft yet strained with a mix of fear and curiosity as she rode on a cloud just a short distance from him.
Jack, floating in the air ahead of her, didn't turn around. His gaze remained fixed on the chaos unfolding beneath them as his countless clones wreaked havoc, laying waste to cities, mountains, and everything in between. His expression was cold, detached, as if the destruction was nothing more than a chore.
"Because, like I said before," Jack finally replied, his voice flat, devoid of any real emotion. "It's Ragnarok. I'm just doing what I was told to do."
The girl's eyes narrowed as she watched him, her mind racing. There had to be more to this, she thought. No one—especially someone like Jack—would follow orders so blindly. "But why?" she asked, her tone firmer now, pushing for answers. "There must be a reason. The one who sent you wouldn't just tell you to destroy everything for no purpose.
Didn't you ask why?"
At her words, Jack's brow furrowed, though he kept his back to her. A flicker of doubt passed through his eyes, and his grip on his staff tightened slightly. The air around them, heavy with the scent of burning skies and the screams of fleeing deities, seemed to press down harder on him. Why hadn't he asked? Normally, he would have questioned Adams the moment the command was given.
He wasn't one to follow orders without at least knowing the reason behind them. And yet… he hadn't.
The girl noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor—the brief tightening of his shoulders, the slight droop of his head, as if the weight of his actions were finally sinking in. She pressed further, sensing an opening. "I see it too," she said quietly, her voice softer now. "You're wondering why you didn't ask. It's not like you, is it?"
Jack finally looked down, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the destruction below him. His jaw clenched, and for the first time, there was uncertainty in his gaze. His clones continued their work, mindlessly obliterating everything in their path, but Jack himself hovered in place, motionless. He had been so caught up in executing the command, he hadn't even paused to consider why he was doing it.
"No," Jack muttered after a long silence, still not turning to face her. "It's not like me." His voice was lower now, tinged with confusion. "I should've asked." He brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck, a rare gesture of discomfort, as if trying to shake off the gnawing doubt creeping into his thoughts. "I always ask. I always want to know why…"
He finally turned his head slightly, just enough for the girl to catch a glimpse of his profile—a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, but it wasn't one of amusement. It was forced, strained. "Maybe I'm just getting mature," he added with a hollow chuckle, though it lacked any real humor.
The girl's brow furrowed as she watched him, sensing the dissonance between his words and his expression. Something wasn't right. His smile didn't reach his eyes, and the more she looked at him, the more she realized he wasn't truly convinced by his own explanation. Jack was always quick-witted, always challenging authority, never one to follow orders blindly.
And yet here he was, causing mass destruction without a second thought.
"No," the girl said softly, shaking her head, her eyes never leaving him. "That's not maturity, Jack. It's something else."
Jack's smile faded, replaced by a deeper frown as he fell silent once again. He looked ahead, staring into the distance where the horizon burned and crumbled under the might of his clones. A sudden wave of unease washed over him, and for the first time, doubt began to gnaw at the edges of his mind.
Elsewhere
"This is it. My first step to getting my revenge," Adams muttered, his voice carrying a mix of determination and cold fury as he appeared before an enormous door that seemed to float in the void, unattached to any walls. Behind him stood Laden, Aria, Lovigary, and Lokk, all silently watching as their leader took a step forward.
His mother, Aria, her eyes wide with a mix of hope and desperation, looked at Adams. "Is Arianna here?" Her voice cracked slightly as she asked, yearning for the reunion that would make her family whole once more.
Adams paused briefly, glancing back at her, his expression softening for just a moment. "No, she's not here." The warmth in his gaze disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced by a cold, steely focus. "I'm just here to deal with someone before we move on."
As he took his first step forward, the colossal door began to creak open, revealing a vast chamber—the Hall of Eternity. The air inside seemed thick with power, shimmering with the combined presence of the Overlords who were gathered within. Adams strode in, his steps echoing through the massive hall, his presence commanding the room.
Laden, Aria, Lovigary, and Lokk followed closely behind, tension radiating off them as they entered this sacred space.
The Overlords, seated on their towering thrones, turned their gazes toward him, their faces betraying varying degrees of surprise, dread, and quiet resolve. Adams surveyed them with a faint, mocking smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Well, well," he said, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "All of you in one place. How splendid. This will make things easier for me."
His words hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy with threat. The Overlords exchanged uneasy glances, feeling the sheer magnitude of his presence. Adams wasn't just another threat—they all knew who he was. The Overlord of Omnipotence.
Greta, the Overlord of Sight and Prophecy, rose from her seat, her movements slow and deliberate. Her usually serene face was lined with tension, yet her sharp eyes held an unsettling calm. She met Adams' gaze and, after a moment, bowed deeply, the gesture laced with both respect and inevitability.
"Don't act like you didn't know we were already gathered here, oh Overlord of Omnipotence," Greta said, her voice steady but carrying a quiet tremor of acknowledgment.
Adams' smirk remained, but his eyes narrowed as he watched her. Greta straightened, her hands clasped in front of her, as if already accepting the fate that was about to unfold. She could see the path ahead—she had seen it long before Adams arrived—but there was no escaping it now.
The room was thick with tension, every Overlord stiffening as the weight of Adams' arrival settled over them like a crushing wave.
Laden, standing slightly behind Adams, clenched his fists, his sharp eyes darting to the other Overlords, sizing them up. His usually calm demeanor was overshadowed by an eagerness, almost anticipation for the confrontation that was brewing.
Aria, on the other hand, looked more distracted, her mind still on Arianna. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she scanned the room, hoping against hope that somehow, her daughter might still appear. But the cold truth in Adams' words lingered in her mind—Arianna wasn't here. Not yet.
Lovigary and Lokk, silent as ever, flanked Adams, their loyalty unspoken but unwavering. Their expressions were unreadable, yet their postures were tense, ready to act at a moment's notice.
Adams took another step forward, his eyes gleaming with cold fury as he surveyed the gathered Overlords. "You've all ruled here for so long. But it's time for this to end." His voice was quiet but carried the weight of a death sentence.
The Overlords remained silent, their faces shadowed with fear and defiance. Greta, however, simply sighed, her eyes flickering with resignation. "We all knew this day would come," she whispered, more to herself than to the others.
Adams' gaze turned ice-cold. "Yes," he said softly, his hand twitching slightly at his side, power humming just beneath his skin. "And now… it begins."
El rose from his seat, his towering frame casting a long shadow across the Hall of Eternity. His face, etched with years of battle and command, twisted with disdain as his eyes locked onto Adams. "I don't know why you're so eager to bow and scrape to him," he spat, his voice echoing with authority. "But what I do know is this—you are no Overlord. Not while I'm still breathing."
His words cut through the air like a blade, sharp and filled with conviction. El's hands curled into fists at his sides, his aura flaring up around him in a show of defiance. The other Overlords, sensing the brewing conflict, tensed but remained silent. Greta watched carefully from her seat, her eyes narrowing as the tension in the room thickened.
Adams simply smiled—a slow, knowing smile, as if El's challenge was more of a nuisance than a threat. The room seemed to tilt as his calm demeanor contrasted sharply with the rage radiating from El. He let out a soft sigh, as though already bored by what was to come. Slowly, he stretched his arms above his head, rolling his shoulders lazily, his movements languid, almost mocking.
As he moved, his clothes shimmered, subtly shifting in a fluid transformation. The loose, unassuming robes he had worn just moments before tightened, morphing into a sleek, black battle suit that clung to his form like a second skin. The material glistened with an unnatural sheen, pulsating with raw, untapped power. Adams looked down at himself, flexing his fingers as if admiring his own creation.
He seemed utterly at ease, as though this confrontation were nothing more than a mild inconvenience.
"You're right, El," Adams said, his voice soft yet carrying the weight of the world. He cracked his neck, his tone almost conversational. "I'm no Overlord."
El's eyes narrowed, his brow furrowing in confusion as he watched Adams, sensing something off. But before he could speak, Adams continued, his voice turning sharp, each word cutting through the room like a blade.
"And I will never be one."
The calm in Adams' expression vanished, replaced by an intensity that seemed to darken the very air around him. His eyes burned with a cold, unstoppable force. He took a step forward, and the ground beneath his feet trembled, cracks spreading from where he stood as though the Hall itself could barely withstand his presence.
"I will never lower myself to your level, El," Adams said, his gaze piercing. "You Overlords, with all your supposed power, are nothing but relics clinging to a throne that was never yours to begin with."
El's jaw clenched, his muscles tightening as the words sank in. A flicker of doubt crossed his face, but he quickly replaced it with defiance.
Adams took another step, his battle suit humming with energy, an aura of omnipotence swirling around him like a storm waiting to be unleashed. His voice, when it came, was filled with a quiet finality that sent a chill through everyone in the room.
"You can't even begin to measure up to me, El. In my eyes, you're not even an ant. You're beneath that."
The words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. Adams' eyes gleamed with a terrible light, his lips curling into a smirk. He straightened, the sheer force of his presence pressing down on everyone in the room.
"I am the embodiment of omnipotence."
For a moment, there was silence—oppressive, suffocating silence. El, despite his fury and pride, faltered, his eyes widening slightly as the reality of what stood before him finally began to sink in. Adams wasn't boasting. He wasn't bluffing. He was simply stating a fact.
Around the room, the other Overlords shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Greta, still watching from the shadows, sighed softly, her eyes filled with the weariness of someone who had foreseen this moment and all the futility that would follow.
El, though visibly shaken, clenched his fists tighter, refusing to back down. His pride wouldn't allow it. "We'll see about that," he growled, stepping forward, his aura flaring again in defiance.
But even as he spoke, there was an undeniable shift in the room. A change in the balance of power. One that everyone could feel but none dared to acknowledge.
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