Chapter 206: Trap?
The fall of Vardane Kingdom marked the true beginning of Igaris Vance’s storm-like campaign. As one of the sixty-six kingdoms under the vast dominion of the Skadi Empire, Vardane had been a crucial stronghold in the empire’s southern region. Yet its mighty walls, ancient fortifications, and elite Champion-ranked legions crumbled before the relentless advance of Igaris’s forces.
News of Vardane’s defeat spread like wildfire. Whispers in the taverns and marketplaces spoke of a young warlord whose eyes burned with a mix of cold calculation and unshakable resolve, a man who commanded not just soldiers, but a tide of warriors and creatures forged in the crucible of the Martial Sanctuary. Those who had fought against him spoke of his terrifying martial skills, his use of Soul Eclipse to annihilate enemy commanders, and his ability to turn the tide of battle with but a single strike from his World Destroying Finger.
For Igaris, Vardane was merely the first stone in the avalanche he intended to unleash. The moment the royal banners of Vardane were torn down and replaced with his own, he issued a decree to his generals.
"Three months," he declared before the war council. "Half of the Skadi Empire will kneel. And when they kneel, they will kneel to me."
His commanders did not doubt him. The army moved like a wave, sweeping across the southern territories. Smaller kingdoms surrendered without a fight, their rulers preferring to swear fealty rather than face the annihilation that had claimed Vardane. Those that resisted were crushed swiftly, their armies shattered, their fortresses reduced to rubble.
Igaris did not rely solely on brute force. With The Architect’s Eyes, he identified weaknesses in enemy defenses before his armies even arrived. Using Umbral Veil and Phantom Shift, he personally led precision strikes deep into enemy command centers, eliminating leaders before they could rally their troops. In the aftermath, his army absorbed both the surviving soldiers and the conquered populace, swelling its numbers with each victory.
The Skadi Empire’s central court could no longer ignore the threat. They sent envoys offering wealth, titles, and autonomy if Igaris would halt his conquest. He rejected them all. His ambition was not to be a vassal king under the empire’s banner—it was to tear down that banner entirely.
Three months of relentless campaigns followed. Every battle honed his forces, every victory brought more recruits. His name became a rallying cry for those oppressed under imperial rule. From the frostbitten northern plains to the fertile river valleys of the central territories, his banners flew over conquered cities.
By the end of the third month, the results were staggering. Of the sixty-six kingdoms under the Skadi Empire, thirty-two had fallen under his control. His army, once numbering a fraction of the imperial legions, had grown into a colossal force of two hundred million soldiers—humans, martial warriors, and monstrous allies from the different worlds..
The empire’s half was now his. And the other half? It awaited him like a feast yet to be devoured.
--
After three months of unbroken conquest, Igaris stood on the precipice of something far greater. His relentless campaigns, the absorption of countless kingdoms, and the plundering of their treasuries, libraries, and cultivation resources had propelled him to Saint Rank -5. Every step brought him closer to the elusive God Rank, a threshold that only a handful in recorded history had ever crossed.
Yet for all his victories, for all the vast swathes of the Skadi Empire he had claimed, the one figure he sought most remained absent. The Little Emperor—reincarnated sovereign of countless lifetimes—had not appeared, had not spoken, had not even sent so much as a threat to his front lines.
It was not relief that filled Igaris at this silence. It was suspicion.
He knew well that someone who had ruled through eras, who had watched the birth and death of entire civilizations, would not sit idly while an upstart devoured half his empire. This was not indifference. It was the silence before a leviathan surfaces... the hush before a sky-splitting storm.
And Igaris was no fool. In his past timeline he had studied the legends, pieced together fragments of history, and unearthed truths the empire had tried to bury. The Little Emperor was no mere ruler—he was the culmination of lifetimes of Reincarnations, a sovereign who had conquered worlds before Orca. He would not be defeated by brute force alone. His arsenal would be treachery, ambushes, and unimaginable weapons born of forgotten eras.
That was why Igaris never allowed his guard to falter.
On what seemed like an ordinary day, his vast host moved toward their next target—an unclaimed imperial kingdom rich with and ancient Beasts. The skies above were vast and unbroken, the winds carrying the distant hum of millions of airborne vessels.
Igaris stood at the very edge of his flagship battleship, the Eclipse Sovereign. The vessel’s colossal shadow rolled over the endless plains below as its engines hummed with restrained power.
The horizon stretched in every direction, an ocean of green grasslands swaying beneath the steady winds of Orca’s boundless expanse. There were no mountains here, no forests—only the vast, rolling emptiness broken occasionally by a lone, ancient watchtower or the skeletal remains of cities swallowed by time.
It was a land that seemed to breathe in silence.
Yet to Igaris, that silence felt unnatural.
His gaze was fixed ahead, his mind running through countless battle scenarios. His instincts—honed by years of bloodshed and sharpened further by the Architect’s Eyes—told him that the battlefield was already taking shape. He could almost feel the pressure, as if something vast was lurking just beyond the horizon, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his weapon. The Ten Thousand Divine Armaments stirred faintly in response, resonating with the faintest vibrations in the air.
If the Little Emperor was going to make his move, this vast emptiness would be the perfect place. No cities. No witnesses. Nowhere to hide from what was coming.
All of a sudden, the wind shifted.
It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but Igaris felt it instantly. The grasslands that had been swaying lazily moments ago now seemed unnaturally still, as though the world itself was holding its breath.
From the distant horizon, a single figure approached. No army. No banners. No guards.
Only him.
The man walked with unhurried steps, yet each one seemed to close the distance faster than mortal eyes could track. His attire was simple yet immaculate—royal white robes threaded with gold, a crown that was more a band of starlight than metal. His eyes held the weight of eternities, but they were not kind.
Little Emperor Kaelion.
Igaris’s gaze narrowed. "So you finally decided to come."
Kael’s lips curled into a faint smile. "I thought I would see for myself the boy who claims half my empire as if it were a toy he could snatch from a distracted child." His voice was calm, melodic even, yet every word carried an invisible force that pressed against the soul.
The battleship’s crew felt it immediately. Some staggered back. Others bowed instinctively without knowing why.
Igaris did not move. "Half an empire is just the beginning. I intend to take the other half... and you."
Kael chuckled softly, but his eyes never lost their sharpness. "So much ambition. So little patience. But you are interesting, Igaris Vance. Interesting enough that I will offer you a gift before I end you."
Without warning, he raised his hand. Between his fingers materialized a small, intricately carved cube no larger than a fist. It was unlike any artifact Igaris had ever seen—its surface shimmered like liquid crystal, shifting with images that seemed to pull the mind inward.
The air rippled violently.
Igaris recognized danger instantly and moved to activate his Soul Eclipse, but Kael had already spoken.
"Infinite Dream Box."
The cube unfolded in a way that defied logic, expanding and blooming like a thousand-petaled flower. A wave of divine energy swept outward, and the very fabric of reality twisted. The world lost its color, its sound, its weight.
Igaris’s body froze—not by force, but as though his own will had been gently severed from him. For the briefest moment, he felt the sensation of falling... and then nothing.
The battleship’s deck was empty. Where Igaris had stood, there was only the faint shimmer of air as the Infinite Dream Box folded back into Kael’s palm.
The Little Emperor glanced at the horizon and whispered, "Sleep well, Overlord."
---
Somewhere far away, Igaris awoke to the sound of birdsong.
The sun was warm on his skin. He lay in a simple wooden bed in a small, sunlit room. The faint scent of fresh bread drifted through an open window.
He sat up slowly. His armor, his weapons, the weight of battle—they were gone. In their place was a plain tunic and trousers.
A voice called from outside. "Igaris! Breakfast is ready!"
He turned to see a small cottage surrounded by rolling hills and wildflowers. Beyond it, a peaceful village bustled with morning life.
Somehow, deep in his heart, he felt this was where he belonged. He could not remember why.