Fifteen Transcendent Echoes, most of them Devils...

Sunny simply stared, mentally recalculating the threat level of the Valor force... and of the great clans in general.

'I knew, of course, that the hidden power of the Sovereigns is vast. But it seems that I've been concentrating on their personal might too much... mostly because it is both mysterious and phenomenal. However, there is the mundane power of accumulation as well. I've been a fool to neglect it.'

To everyone else, a Corrupted abomination was a dreadful nightmare... even to Saints. Transcendents fought against the Corrupted and were more than capable of slaying them, but every such fight was a risk, especially against the creatures of higher Classes.

The Supremes, however, were equal to the Great Nightmare Creatures. Sunny had been under the impression that the Sovereigns mostly stayed within the confines of their Domains, but maybe he was not entirely right. Someone like Anvil or Ki Song could slaughter Corrupted abominations with the same ease he could butcher Awakened creatures.

It only made sense that they had accumulated a legion of powerful Echoes over the decades, including scores of Transcendent ones.

Sunny suddenly broke out in a cold sweat.

'...Hell. Who says that Transcendent Echoes are the limit?'

Since the Sovereigns could fight on equal footing with Great Nightmare Creatures... then didn't it mean that they could possess Supreme Echoes, as well?

To this day, Sunny had only seen two Great abominations. One was the unborn spawn of the Vile Thieving Bird, and the other - most likely - was the dark sea of the Forgotten Shore. What would it look like if a creature like that was turned into an Echo?

Was Morgan in possession of a Supreme Echo?

Did she have an Echo of a Titan slumbering in her Soul Sea? Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

He lingered for a moment, then glanced at Nephis, who stood in front of the army of monsters with an impassive expression on her calm, beautiful face.

'You want to destroy... this?'

He closed his eyes for a moment.

'...Damn that lunatic. She must have infected me with her madness! Because... I really want to make these bastards pay, too...'

At this point, it was hard to say whose madness was more virulent.

Sunny shook his head, then looked at Wake of Ruin, who was staring at Morgan with an unreadable expression. Eventually, the old man said in an even voice:

"Put those things away. They'll ruin the floors."

'What...'

Morgan tilted her head a little and silently dismissed the Echoes. Saint Cor nodded.

"Good. I see that your... clan... is as shrewd as ever. These Echoes will be of great help. If used correctly, of course."

Sunny was thinking feverishly.

"Saint Tyris is a vassal of Valor, but the reinforcements they sent are all direct members of the clan. Madoc, Morgan... Nephis... and one more Saint, who is escorting the main force across the ocean. With these fifteen Transcendent abominations, they alone could be considered on par with the entire Evacuation Army, if not more powerful than us. And the forces of Song will be just as powerful."

There was already one Saint of the Song clan in East Antarctica - a vassal, just like Sky Tide. Two more were coming, both direct members of the clan, as well as several hundred Awakened and several powerful Masters. Who would these people be? What hidden aces would they bring along?

'Is that guy coming?'

Surely, he was. Mordret had joined Song to avenge himself on Valor, in the first place. He wouldn't miss a chance to make his former clan bleed.

The Prince of Nothing alone was more frightening than fifteen Transcendent Echoes.

Sunny almost groaned.

'These bastards are going to destroy the entire continent.'

Even though Antarctica was meant to be merely a prologue to the war of the Great Clans, that prologue was already promising to be the most chilling of disasters. It would be a cataclysm.

Everyone in the hall must have understood the magnitude of the approaching collision... however, no one seemed rattled by it. Wake of Ruin and Jet seemed a bit somber, but calm, too jaded to be shaken by the promise of appalling bloodshed. Saint Tyris was reserved and stoic. Madoc and Morgan... they hid it well, but Sunny could see bloodlust and readiness in their eyes.

As for Nephis, she appeared the calmest of them all. She might have fooled everyone else, but he knew what kind of hatred dwelled in her burning, murderous heart. The more the members of the Great Clans killed each other, the more exhilarated she would be.

As he thought about the grim prospects of the nearest future, Morgan looked around with curiosity.

Her voice had a hint of anticipation in it:

"I see that our colleagues from the great clan Song have not arrived yet?"

Wake of Ruin nodded.

"Indeed. They'll only be here in a few hours. Really, that makes things awkward for me... there is a lot we need to discuss regarding the current situation on the continent and your future role in keeping it in human hands. But what am I supposed to do? Repeat myself all over again when the Song vanguard arrives?"

He shook his head with resignation.

Sunny could just imagine that war meeting. Three sides discussing important matters of strategy, with everyone present perfectly aware of the fact that most of the gathered powerhouses were actually planning to kill each other, and with the few bystanders only wondering about how to make them kill each other in the most convenient way.

All the while pretending not to know anything, of course.

'What a joke...'

It was really funny. He barely held back laughter.

At that moment, Saint Cor suddenly threw a glance toward Jet and Sunny.

His grating voice resounded in the spacious hall:

"...So, make yourself comfortable for the moment. We'll convene when the other party arrives. These are two of my best people, by the way - Ascended Jet and Ascended Sunless. You all know Soul Reaper, so I won't say anything. Young Master Sunless, however, has only earned his reputation recently. The soldiers are calling him the Devil of Antarctica, from what I hear."

The veteran Saint chuckled.

"A fitting nickname if I ever heard one. In any case, these two will be my envoys for your two Great Clans. Timeliness has to be rewarded, so... pick one. I'll send the other to accompany the Song people."

Both Sunny and Jet stared at him, not sure how to feel about being handled that way. It was as if they were livestock.

A precious livestock, but still...

'What a rude bastard.'

Sunny turned to look at the emissaries of Valor, frowning slightly.

Morgan glanced at him, then studied Jet for a while.

Eventually, she smiled.

"Why, we'll take Master Sunless. He's my dear sister's former companion, after all. I feel like we're good friends already!"