Beyond the Apocalypse-Chapter 1060: Conquering Hell (II)

Despite the immense pride in his soul, Overlord maintained his objective, stoic composure, giving the sovereigns a clear picture of what he was talking about.

"There are no drawbacks to the soul-bloodline modification," he added. "No gradual corruption. No loss of self. The only requirement is that, to ensure absolute stability and prevent any distortion of ego or personality, the subject must possess soul strength of at least the Sage tier."

Shock and awe spread across the faces of the sovereigns.

They understood immediately what this meant.

Such a feat went beyond conventional genetic modification or bloodline manipulation. It was true soul-level engineering, the harmonization of hostile laws within a living being without compromise or backlash.

If Overlord could truly accomplish this, then he was—without exaggeration—the greatest Bloodline Master in the entire known universe.

The rulers exchanged glances, their minds racing as they began to seriously consider the plan.

It was brilliant.

With such bloodline alterations, conquest of Hell was no longer impossible in theory. Their warriors could survive, adapt, and even thrive within infernal territories. Strongholds could be established. Supply lines maintained. Civilization, however harsh, could take root.

And yet...

The doubt soon returned.

Hell was vast, incredibly vast.

Each layer was a gargantuan realm unto itself, filled with countless domains, ancient strongholds, and infernal empires that had endured since time immemorial. Even if they successfully conquered every major fortress and annihilated the ruling Lords, their forces would be stretched dangerously thin.

Among the Six Suns Alliance, there were only a few hundred thousand Sages, and fewer than ten thousand Legends. That number was already astonishing, especially considering that seeing a Sage born every decade was impressive, and a Legend every century was a reason to celebrate.

But it was not enough.

Not enough to properly control even a single layer of Hell—let alone three.

The sovereigns’ expressions darkened as the implications settled in. Overextension would mean collapse. Uprisings would be inevitable. Supply lines would fracture. The conquest would fail before it truly began.

Overlord watched their faces carefully.

He saw the concern forming in their eyes.

And he nodded.

Satisfied.

"Good," he thought. "You are wise enough to see the real problem."

For a plan like the one the True Depravitas had in mind, one would need not just a powerful warrior but people wise enough to see the bigger picture and find the problems.

"Of course, I would not present a plan without a solution." Overlord continued calmly, "The Xaos Kingdom is capable of forging autonomous drones that can fulfill the duties of guard over the conquered territories, their power ranging from Guardians all the way to Superior Legends."

The words alone were enough to stir the room. The drones of the Xaos Kingdom were already famous, but their limits were the Sage Tier. However, it seemed that they had made a new advance.

"Using the biomass harvested from the Devils we slay, we can generate vast numbers of troops. These drones will not merely fight—they will occupy, secure, and govern the territories we conquer."

A low murmur rippled through the Sovereign Hall.

"And while I cannot yet perform the soul–bloodline infusion procedure on individuals weaker than the Sage Tier," Overlord said, his voice steady and precise, "their children will naturally inherit those adaptations. They will be beings of the Light, born capable of harnessing the power of Hell more efficiently than Devils themselves."

That statement struck far deeper than any battlefield projection.

The implications were staggering.

Not only conquest—but permanence.

Not merely occupation—but a new civilization, one that could exist within Hell without compromise or decay.

The thrill behind the eyes of the sovereigns intensified as the realization settled in. Conquering layers of Hell was no longer an impossible dream—it was a brutal, costly, yet achievable reality.

The path would be soaked in blood. The resistance would be ferocious. Entire armies would fall.

But if they succeeded...

They would cripple one of the strongest powers of The Darkness in the universe, saving countless realms from future invasions.

At the same time, and frankly more important, they would gain access to infernal energies and laws that surpassed those of most Supreme Worlds. The wealth alone—spiritual, material, and metaphysical—would be beyond measure.

The longer they analyzed the plan, the more its gravity pulled at them.

Yet none of those present had reached their current positions through recklessness alone.

Emperor Brightkin broke the silence.

"If we join you in this campaign," he said carefully, "and if we succeed... how will the conquered lands be distributed?"

At once, every gaze turned toward the True Depravita. Division of wealth was one of the most common reasons why alliances broke, so it could not be neglected.

Overlord had expected the question.

"First," he replied without hesitation, "we act as one unified force. No divisions. No isolated campaigns. No individual claims. Just as we did when we marched into the Chaovoratites Plane."

The sovereigns nodded almost immediately. Unity had been the foundation of their greatest victories, and they would need it if they wanted to butcher billions of Devils.

Then Overlord raised his hand.

Small, perfectly smooth marbles floated through the air, one coming to rest before each sovereign.

"Every soldier," he said, "will carry one of these."

The rulers reached out instinctively.

"These marbles will objectively measure the impact each warrior has on the war effort. Combat contribution, defense, sieges, logistics, protection of resources—every action will be recorded and translated into credits."

The sovereigns sent their consciousness into the marbles.

Streams of data unfolded within their minds—complex, precise, and brutally fair. Kill counts were not overvalued. Support roles mattered. Defensive stands were properly quantified. Even strategic retreats and delayed engagements were weighed according to outcome.

The system left no room for manipulation.

No favoritism.

No injustice.

"It is... perfect," Ankil murmured.

"After a layer is conquered," Overlord continued, "it will be divided into sectors, each assigned a value. You will use the total credits earned by your forces to secure the sectors best suited to your people."

He paused.

"If multiple factions desire the same sector, then chance will decide."

The plan was elegant.

Far superior to dividing the First Layer into crude, equal portions. Some lands were worthless to dragons but invaluable to dwarves. What was sacred ground to one empire might be uninhabitable to another.

"This method ensures fairness," Merlin said quietly.

"And efficiency," Brightkin added.

"Once allocation is complete," Overlord said, "the Xaos Kingdom will provide each of you with drones to secure and govern your territories."

He let the words settle.

"The drones will be free," he continued, "so long as we receive all Devil corpses below the Lord Tier."

Sharp glints appeared in the eyes of several rulers.

Legendary Devil corpses were immensely valuable—particularly in quantities reaching tens of thousands. But the exchange was fair. Drones capable of maintaining order, defending borders, and enforcing law were priceless in a hostile realm.

One by one, they nodded.

"For Lord Tier Devil corpses," Overlord added, "ownership will belong to whoever slays them."

Once again, agreement followed.

Vlad watched from the side, observing silently as Overlord guided the discussion with surgical precision. Without even realizing it, the sovereigns had transitioned from skepticism to full commitment—already negotiating spoils.

Overlord’s eyes sharpened.

"We will begin with the First Layer of Hell. It is the weakest, and many of its most powerful Devil Lords have already been eliminated during the Xaos Kingdom’s bloodline hunts."

The room grew quieter as they went into the details of the future battles.

"However," he continued, "given the nature of this campaign, there is a high probability we will draw the attention—and wrath—of Hell’s strongest entities."

The solemnity deepened.

Normally, Devil Lords did not interfere with matters beyond their own layers. But beings of Light conquering infernal territory was a provocation that could not be ignored.

"Given that the Vorometallicae Race possessed Apophis," Overlord said evenly, "it is highly likely that Hell possesses at least one Paragon—perhaps more."

A heavy silence fell.

"And they will attack us."

He did not soften the truth.

"It is essential that we face them and win the battle. Only by repelling Hell’s strongest champions can we secure the First Layer long enough to move forward."

The eyes of Brightkin, Orkin, Ankil, and Merlin all shifted—first to the White Death, then to the True Depravita of Wrath.

Only Paragons could stand against Paragons.

"I doubt the events in Heaven will be disclosed," Overlord continued. "Given Heaven’s nature and the Archangels’ pride, they will keep their defeat secret."

His gaze lingered briefly on the White Death.

"That means the existence of two Paragons on our side is known only to us. We will keep it that way."

A hidden blade was far deadlier than an exposed one.

After a moment, the White Death nodded.

The tension in the room eased.

A wide smile spread across the True Depravita’s face.

That had been the final pillar.

There were still countless logistical and strategic matters to resolve, but the foundation was complete.