Despite being a relatively new family without the ancient roots or deep foundations of the others, every single member of the Crimson family could match the geniuses of the two strongest races—and utterly dominate the so-called prodigies of the lesser ones.
It was like the entire Crimson bloodline was composed of supreme geniuses, an anomaly that stood in stark contrast to the rest of the human race. One could only imagine how terrifying they’d become once the family reached maybe ten or twenty generations.
Azarel’s question was something everyone had thought about, more of a fleeting thought than not, but one, none dared to voice. Not with monsters from the two apex races present.
It was a question that placed him in a unique light: on one hand, claiming he wasn’t confident enough to force his way in... and on the other, implying that no other race present could stop him.
In other words, he called himself weak, while also claiming to be stronger than everyone else.
One could understand their reaction. After all, it had been spoken by a human. And not just any human, one from that family of mad men.
Before a response could be given to Azarel’s question though, a mountainous pressure descended upon the world, causing all the phenomena that came with the world’s Ascension to halt.
In an instant, it began spread like a cancerous tumor, weaving itself into the very fabric of the world. The head of every Saint, snapped in the same direction as if triggered by some unseen command.
Their combined might surged in waves, their gazes crossing vast distances, piercing into Zenith and tracing a direct path to the Crimson castle.
But before they could move, something even more monumental occurred.
There, in the sky above the Crimson Castle...
Space sundered open, far more violently than anything they had ever witnessed. Before it, the rift in their midst, felt pathetic... like a child.
From the rift, an aura poured out, one that sent cold terror flooding through their veins before thought could even form.
Then, an eye slowly pried open. A ruby-red light though distant, felt omnipresent. It gazed down, its sight covering all of Ares. It was vast, ancient and... boundless.
In its stare, they felt like they could see the secrets of all that ever was, all that is, and all that will ever be.
An eye blazing with light, yet paradoxically void of all light.
With its opening, the pressure intensified, pressing down tyrannically upon their souls, down to their very Essence.
The world fell into absolute silence. The rumbling heavens and the quaking earth stilled. Even the raging dynamis lay docile, like a cowed pup.
The hearts of the Saints turned cold, those of Zenith colder still, and those of the Crimson family, all but froze into ice.
Time slowed to a minute crawl... No, rather it became warped... so skewed that a year and a millisecond seemed one and the same.
It felt like an eternity passed, yet somehow only an instant, when an even greater pressure descended. Something even worse than what the eye exuded!
The Saints’ souls shuddered.
’Ares is at its end’ they thought simultaneously.
Some Saints even began to pray, pleading that whatever catastrophe approached would be restricted to Zenith alone. Something that was very unlikely considering that without restraint, one of them could destroy a significant portion of any continent, talk more of the being behind such unprecedented aura.
But the eye, unmoved by their hopes, suddenly flickered with rage. It was like it felt insulted by something encroaching on its authority. Before it could act though, the new descending force crashed into it like an avalanche.
The ruby eye was pushed back, almost fully retreating into the spatial tear. Its ruby light, seemed to burn even brighter as it tore through the pressure pressing against it.
The pressure however, was resilient, this time crashing on it with its focused might. The eye resisted, drawing upon every ounce of its power and essence to fight back... To no avail.
They watched, breathless, as the eye was slowly pushed back into the rift, and then, with a violent snap, the spatial tear sealed shut.
Instantly, the pressure vanished. The ruby gaze, the overwhelming force that opposed it... gone, like they were never there to begin with.
Even the original malignant aura, cancerous and insidious, was now gone. Or perhaps, it had completed its purpose, proliferating into the weave that made up the world.
As unsettling as that sounded, they believed it was unlikely. No one had been able to muster a single thought of defiance beneath either of the auras, let alone both. The cancerous aura wouldn’t have been able to shrug them off and continued with what it was doing... Right?
Either way, it became impossible to detect.
The Saints shuddered, haunted by the memory of their helplessness.
But while most were still struggling to recover their composure, the Crimson Saints had already exploded into motion, streaking toward Crimson City the moment the suffocating pressure lifted.
At their movements, the world too, seemed to awaken, roaring and thrashing with even greater fury than before.
Moments later, the human Saints followed suit, shooting toward Zenith without wasting a breath.
A second after them, the Saints of the two most powerful races on Ares launched themselves forward, swiftly closing the gap—and even overtaking some of the human Saints already en route.
The other Saints hesitated, fear still lingering in their minds. Though powerful in their own right, what they had just felt...
Eventually, many gritted their teeth and surged forward. Some of them had already even taken off earlier, clearly waiting for the Saints of the two dominant races to make the first move.
Not all the Saints followed though.
A handful remained behind, the impact of that pressure on their psyche, raising neither concern for Ares, nor curiosity about what had happened, not even fear like the others had experienced, but greed!
The gnome from earlier and other gnome Saints, were part of this bunch, their eyes gleaming with avarice.
It was exactly because of people like them, that the rest of the Saints had been ready to cut down anyone who tried to step into the rift earlier.
But now, with the majority of the Saints gone, and given that their race had the highest number of remaining Saints compared to the other present races, who was left to stop them?