Chapter 152: Battle of Races

Lyerin stood atop the towering statue that symbolized the heart of the Stonehooves tribe.

His figure, wrapped in a thick shroud of fog, concealed his face, leaving only his silhouette visible to anyone who might be watching from below.

His lips curled into a faint smile, hidden beneath the veil of mist.

Lyerin could sense the tremors of the world beyond—the image of him, their so-called "representative," had been broadcast to countless eyes. But with the fog obscuring his features, none would truly know who he was.

"My face was probably shown all over the world for a few seconds," Lyerin murmured to himself, his voice a quiet rumble in the stillness, "but I could care less."

Suddenly, the ground beneath him vibrated with a soft, rhythmic thump.

Thum!

Thum!

The vibrations grew louder as one of his tribe's Horned Mana Beasts approached, its massive form causing the very earth to tremble.

The creature, a majestic blend of fur and horns, stood before him, its golden eyes glowing with a primal intelligence.

It bowed its head, and though no words escaped its mouth, Lyerin could feel the connection—the thrum of communication that only he could understand.

The Mana Beast's message was simple, conveyed in those deep, rhythmic pulses that resonated within Lyerin's mind.

He listened, his head tilted slightly as if he were hearing a far-off voice.

The creature's presence was imposing, yet respectful, its hulking body glistening in the light of the setting sun.

When it was done, Lyerin's smile deepened. "I see," he mumbled. His sharp eyes gleamed under the fog as he turned his gaze toward the distant horizon. "You can now go back," he ordered.

The Mana Beast hesitated for a moment, as if seeking final confirmation, before turning away.

With a thunderous thud, it began its retreat into the dense forest, its form vanishing into the shadows of the trees.

The ground continued to shake beneath its massive hooves, a reminder of the sheer power that Lyerin now commanded.

As the Mana Beast disappeared, a sudden change swept over the air.

The sky above his tribe darkened, and the wind picked up, swirling around the statue where Lyerin stood.

He watched, his expression calm, as something began to form in the sky.

It was faint at first, like a mist gathering in the clouds, but soon it took shape.

An image.

The figure in the sky grew clearer, revealing a being of immense beauty and terrifying power.

She was tall, towering over the horizon like a goddess from another realm.

Her skin shimmered with a deep, iridescent blue, and her six arms moved gracefully, as though each was in sync with the rhythm of the universe itself.

Her long, flowing hair cascaded down her back like molten silver, and her eyes—piercing violet orbs—seemed to glow with an inner light that illuminated the entire sky.

The being's face was regal, her expression unreadable.

A crown of horns adorned her forehead, curling elegantly like the ancient Asuras of legend.

Her body was both sleek and muscular, the epitome of both beauty and strength, her presence commanding and fierce.

She wore elaborate armor that shimmered with a metallic sheen, as if forged from the very stars themselves.

The Asura Lady.

Her voice, when she spoke, was like thunder and silk, reverberating across the heavens.

"Welcome, chosen of the Absorbed Worlds," she said, her tone carrying the weight of ages past. "Ten worlds have been brought to this place, and each one of you is bound by destiny to this moment."

Lyerin's heart skipped a beat.

He had expected something grand, but the appearance of this Asura Lady, towering over his tribe and beyond, was more than he could have anticipated. His eyes bore into her as she continued.

"The first world," she said, gesturing with one of her arms, "is Zordrix, the Realm of the Skywalkers. The dominant race of this world are the Jaldir, humanoid beings with wings that stretch ten feet in length. They live above the clouds, and their cities float amidst the stars. Masters of flight and wind, they have survived the challenges of the universe by soaring higher than their enemies." seaʀᴄh thё Novelƒire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Lyerin's eyes narrowed as he recalled no such world from his past life. Skywalkers? Jaldir? It was foreign to him, a piece of the universe he had not encountered.

"The second world," the Asura Lady continued, "is Kaeloris, the Jungle of the Solraths. Here, the dominant race are the Olerai, humanoid creatures that blend with nature itself. Their skin is covered in vines, and their bodies can merge with the trees. They thrive in the deep jungles, using nature's magic to defend themselves."

Again, Lyerin tried to place the name, but it rang no bells. Olerai? Solraths? It was as if these worlds had existed in a reality parallel to his own, unseen and unknown to him in his previous life.

"The third world is called Treneron," she continued, her voice washing over the crowd gathered below. "A world where the oceans rule. The dominant race are the Sevarin, humanoid beings with the ability to breathe underwater and control the tides. They live in great underwater cities, their power drawn from the depths of the sea."

Lyerin felt a flicker of recognition, but it was faint. If he had ever heard of these Sevarin, they were distant echoes in his mind, too far gone to grasp.

"The fourth world is Vortan," the Asura Lady said, her eyes glowing brighter. "The land of the Volcaris. These humanoid beings are made of molten rock and fire. They live in volcanoes, and their blood runs with lava. They have no need for weapons, for their bodies are the deadliest tools they possess."

Lyerin clenched his fists, trying to summon any recollection. But again, nothing. These Volcaris, beings of fire and stone, were entirely unknown to him too.

What is going on?

Why are they unknown to him?

"And the fifth world is Earth," she said at last, her gaze shifting. "Home of the Humans, who have fought relentlessly to survive amidst the chaos of their world but they are building up from their unknown dimensional helper that is called a ruined magical world."

At this, Lyerin let out a low chuckle.

Earth, the world he once knew so well, now bound to this strange game. He knew of its struggles, its constant battle with eldritch creatures, its history of survival at all costs.

It was the only world out of the ten that felt familiar, and even then, it had changed in ways he could hardly fathom.

The Asura Lady continued without pause, introducing each of the remaining five Absorbed Worlds:

"The sixth world is Darrok, home to the Brutarians, a race of massive, four-armed humanoids who excel in brute strength. Their cities are carved into mountains, and they live for battle, honing their skills for centuries."

"The seventh is Malvaros, where the Thrylos dwell. These beings have elongated skulls and heightened mental abilities, able to communicate telepathically and move objects with their minds."

"The eighth world is Keros, a place of eternal night, where the Seraphians, shadowy humanoids, rule. They are masters of darkness, their forms shifting between corporeal and shadow."

"The ninth world is Yvarka, home of the Zygron, a race of aquatic humanoids who dwell in the coldest parts of the universe. Their cities lie beneath ice, and their mastery of frost is unmatched."

"And finally, the tenth world is Pherin, where the Araknae live. These spider-like humanoids have six legs and possess the ability to weave webs that can control both physical and magical energy."

Lyerin absorbed the information carefully.

Each world was more bizarre and sounding dangerous than the last, filled with creatures beyond his comprehension. Yet, the Asura Lady's words carried an undeniable gravity.

When she finished, her gaze swept across the gathered masses below. "Welcome to the Battle of Races," she declared, her voice booming. "Fight, and survive for your beloved race!"