Entering Apocalypse in Easy-Mode-Chapter 587: The Presence

Clyde woke with a slight jolt. He kept his breathing steady and his body loose, careful not to move too much.

Mina did not turn. She was still seated nearby with her posture sharp, daggers clenched in both hands.

Her eyes tracked the remnants of the group with open hostility, daring anyone to make a mistake.

No one did. The survivors kept their distance with their backs stiff, eyes avoiding her and the bone-white sword resting near Clyde.

After what they had witnessed, intimidation was no longer an act that needed to be done. It was engraved in their instinct.

Clyde slowly lifted his gaze.

The green barrier of the safe zone shimmered faintly above them. Beyond it, the sky remained fractured, vast cracks stretching across the skies like scars that never healed.

The city moved in the distance, grinding and shifting.

His thoughts returned to the dream.

No. He was certain that it was not a dream.

The heat, the pressure, and the way Asmodeus had looked at him.

That had been real.

Clyde lowered his eyes to the Demonic sword resting against his palm with its pale bone blade. It felt quiet now, but not empty. Something lingered inside it, coiled and waiting.

He focused inward and slowly channeled a thread of magic power into the blade.

The sword responded immediately. A faint hum stirred beneath the surface, subtle but unmistakable.

So that was it.

This sword belonged to Asmodeus’ domain. This was his relic, a conduit. That was why the connection had formed so easily when he slept.

His consciousness had been pulled along the sword’s origin, straight into the Demon King’s realm.

Clyde’s lips curved slightly. This could be useful.

If he could reach Asmodeus again, he might gain the help of his old ally again. Or at least information. Either way, it was an opportunity he could not ignore.

The problem was the World Master.

Any direct ritual or overt summoning would be noticed. He was sure of it. The dream had slipped through because it had been passive, half-instinctive. A byproduct of exhaustion and resonance.

Doing it on purpose would not be so simple.

Clyde closed his eyes again and let his body slacken, mimicking sleep. His breathing slowed. His magic power flow softened until it was barely more than a whisper.

Then he tried again.

He nudged his consciousness toward the sword, guiding his magic carefully, shaping it into a soft call.

He tried to recreate the same conditions as before.

For a moment, the sword warmed. The hum deepened. But then nothing.

No heat, pull, or the collapsing world anymore.

The connection refused to form.

Clyde frowned inwardly. He adjusted his approach, altering the flow, thinning it further, then reinforcing it slightly.

He tried resonance instead of force and intent instead of real structured attempt.

Still nothing.

The sword remained silent in his grasp.

After several attempts, a dull ache formed behind his eyes. His reserves felt thinner than he had expected. He stopped before he pushed too far.

So it was not that easy.

The first contact had not happened because he wanted it to. It had happened because his guard was down and the sword had chosen to respond.

Clyde exhaled slowly. Fine.

Rushing it would only draw attention, and attention was the last thing he could afford.

He loosened his grip on the Demonic sword and let his magic settle back into his core.

His body relaxed fully this time, exhaustion catching up now that his focus had broken.

He decided to sleep again and sleep came easier than before.

Clyde let it take him.

—

After some time, Clyde woke again.

This time he moved slightly, just enough to signal Mina.

He turned his head toward her and spoke quietly.

"Your turn to sleep."

Mina blinked, the sharp edge in her posture finally dulling. She looked relieved.

Heavy-lidded, she nodded eagerly without saying a word. The moment she lay down on the concrete, her body gave up. Sleep took her instantly.

A second later, she snored.

It was soft at first, then steady.

Clyde stared at her for a moment before a small smile formed on his face. He had forgotten how exhausted she must have been, forcing herself to stay alert through fear and bloodshed without complaint.

He decided then to let her sleep longer than he had.

There was no need to rush. They were inside a safe zone now. No one would dare challenge them again, not after what had happened. At least, that was what logic suggested.

Still, he did not trust logic where the World Master was involved.

That guy never let anything stay calm for long. It always found a way to interfere, to twist circumstances just enough to make things "interesting." even after their agreement.

Clyde leaned back and looked up.

Above the barrier, the city keeps moving. Massive skyscrapers began to move. Entire towers slid and rotated, their foundations tearing free from the ground outside the safe zone. Steel groaned silently as structures reconfigured themselves, rearranging the city’s layout like pieces on a board.

Inside the safe zone, the ground did not shake. Outside, it must have been chaos.

Clyde imagined the streets collapsing, people screaming, buildings crushing everything beneath them. It should have felt like an earthquake of impossible scale.

Yet inside the barrier, there was only silence.

The World Master had promised no more PvP and limits inside the safe zones. And safer zones, too. Clyde hoped that promise extended to this madness.

He watched the city continue to move, colossal structures gliding without sound, without mercy.

Clyde said nothing.

He only kept watch while Mina slept, eyes tracking the skyline as the world rearranged itself around them.

—

Meanwhile, within his own domain, Asmodeus remained seated upon his throne.

The Demon King did not move.

The throne of rock and bone loomed behind him, heat rolling endlessly through the chamber, lava churning far below the platform. Skulls stared outward in silent witness, yet Asmodeus paid them no mind.

His thoughts were elsewhere.

What had happened earlier gnawed at him.

That presence.

For a brief moment, it had felt unmistakably real. Not a hallucination or a memory resurfacing.

Clyde’s presence had pierced his mind like a blade through flesh.

And yet... it made no sense.

Clyde was dead.

He had seen it himself. Clyde had been hunted down by nearly the entire Higher Realm. Gods and Goddesses descended together. Archangels burned the skies. Demon Kings joined the purge. Even the World Masters had interfered directly.

It had taken all of them while he was still hiding his involvement.

Clyde should not have survived.

True, he had dragged many of them into the abyss with him. Several Higher Beings had died, permanently erased. The balance of the Higher Realm had been shaken, its order cracked and bleeding. But in the end, they had succeeded.

Clyde had been killed.

That was what Asmodeus and all of them had believed.

Yet doubt crept in right now.

Clyde had always been an anomaly. A being who broke rules that were supposed to be absolute. A mortal man who wielded a mysterious power capable of killing even Higher Beings as if they were mortal.

With such a power...

Was resurrection truly impossible for him?

The more Asmodeus turned the thought over, the less certain he became. The memory of that brief connection refused to fade. The shock in his own voice earlier still echoed in his mind.

Impossible, he had said.

But was it?

Asmodeus clenched one massive hand against the arm of his throne.

He could not investigate. Not openly at least, for now.

There would be too many eyes watching him and too many beings in the Higher Realm would become suspicious. They were still tense from the aftermath of Clyde’s death. So any unusual movement, any attempt to search or speak of Clyde, would draw attention he could not afford.

If the others sensed the possibility that Clyde was still alive, they would act.

Asmodeus sighed slowly.

He would not take the risk.

If Clyde was truly alive, if he truly existed again, then Clyde would find a way to reach him. Just as he always had.

Only then would Asmodeus act.

Until that moment came, he would sit still upon his throne and wait, hiding his thoughts behind silence, pretending that nothing had happened to him at all.

—

Eventually, the allotted time for the Third Scenario came to an end.

Without warning, a familiar pressure settled over the air and a translucent notification forced itself into everyone’s vision at once. It hovered there, announcing the conclusion of the current scenario.

Clyde saw it clearly.

So did Mina.

Mina stirred beside him, her brows knitting as consciousness returned.

She pushed herself up with a slow groan and blinked around the safe zone, looking around at the unchanged barrier.

"It’s done?" Mina asked, her voice still thick with sleep.

Clyde nodded, eyes fixed forward.

"This Third Scenario is done," he said calmly. "The Fourth will begin soon."

Mina sighed and rolled her shoulders, forcing the last of her drowsiness away.

Her grip tightened around her daggers again.

"Soon, huh..." she repeated quietly.

Neither of them smiled.

—