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Vesryn Pulse: Lysander of the Regression
CHAPTER 182 – FINAL ASCENSION

CHAPTER 182 – FINAL ASCENSION

CHAPTER 182 – FINAL ASCENSION

LYSANDER FARADEISS

As the quasar behind me erupted in a cataclysmic blaze, I felt a silent prayer stir deep within my soul. The luminous explosion, rivaling the grandeur of a supernova, seemed to eclipse any hope of survival. I whispered a desperate plea for Hiraya’s safety, though the odds were stacked against us.

But there was no time to dwell on the impossible. My focus narrowed on the goal, now tantalizingly close, just within reach.

Arthur was plummeting through the planet’s atmosphere, his descent a fiery streak against the twilight sky. He had hastily conjured a rudimentary bubble barrier, a feeble attempt to shield himself from the blistering friction of re-entry. Yet, with the Nexus Dragon’s destruction, his Archonlight—the ethereal circuits of light that once danced along his arm—was extinguished. He was vulnerable, and the absence of that protective glow was a stark reminder of his precarious situation.

“Damn it!” Arthur’s voice rang out, tinged with panic. With the ground rushing up to meet him, only five hundred meters away, he thrust out his hand, fingers splayed in a desperate gesture. “Air Trampoline!”

A shimmering white magical circle materialized beneath him, just in time to cushion his fall. The spell’s soft embrace saved his life, but there was no time for relief. The moment the Air Trampoline caught him, Arthur’s gaze shot upward, his eyes widening in terror.

“Oh shit!”

I collided with him in my Trailblazer Dragon Form, the impact creating a massive crater that sent debris and dust spiraling into the air. The force of the collision was devastating—I struck Arthur’s right shoulder with the full weight of my form, the sheer power ripping his arm clean off. His body crumpled under the blow, bones shattering with a sickening crunch as his ribs and knees gave way.

“Gah!” Arthur’s scream of agony pierced the chaotic aftermath, a raw, primal sound that echoed across the desolate landscape.

As the transformation faded, my massive dragon form dissolved into my humanoid shape. The impact left us sprawled on a rocky cliff, several kilometers away from the Final Sanctuary. The salty ocean breeze tugged at my long silver hair, sending it billowing like a banner in the wind. I rose to my feet, my gaze locking onto Arthur, as cold and unforgiving as the sea below.

“L-Lysander…” Arthur stammered, his voice trembling as he scrambled backward, desperation twisting his features. A manic laugh escaped him, his eyes wild with fear and madness. “Hahaha. Hahaha!”

I advanced slowly, each step deliberate, exuding a menacing calm that only deepened his terror. In a frantic bid to defend himself, Arthur etched a glowing magical circle into the air with a flick of his arm, summoning a barrage of fiery missiles.

“Fire Arrow! Fire Arrow! Fire Arrow!” he chanted, his voice edged with panic as the flaming projectiles hurtled toward me.

But I remained unfazed. My response was almost mechanical—I raised my arms, infused with mana, and blocked the onslaught with ease. The Fire Arrows dissipated harmlessly against the shimmering barrier of energy that surrounded me, the mana dispersion principle absorbing their power and leaving me unscathed.

Desperation flickered in Arthur’s eyes as he grasped at his final hope. He revealed the damaged artificial heart, its metal casing scarred and twisted, the very device he had used to control the Nexus Dragon. “Listen, Lysander,” he pleaded, his voice tinged with hysteria. “This is your uncle’s heart. If you restore it, we can rule the world—”

“I don’t fucking care,” I interrupted, my voice as cold as ice. With a swift kick, I sent the deflated heart clattering away from his grasp. Before he could react, I lunged forward, seizing him by the throat. My grip tightened, my fingers digging into his flesh as I lifted him off the ground. “Your wickedness ends here, Arthur.”

“Heh,” Arthur choked out, a bitter smile twisting his lips even as he struggled for air. “You should have stayed as my best friend. It would have been so much simpler.”

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My rage flared, and I snarled, “You tried to fuck with my mind!” The words erupted from me like a thunderclap as I drove my fist into his left cheek. The impact was brutal—blood sprayed into the air, painting a crimson arc as his head snapped to the side.

“Y-You know nothing, Lysander!” Arthur yelled, his voice cracking with desperation.

“You tried to turn me against my friends!” I roared, my fury boiling over as I drove my fist into his face once more. The impact was devastating, shattering his molars and tearing through his gums, sending a spray of blood across the ground. “You tried to make me kill the one I love!”

“She is the real enemy!” Arthur spat, his voice laced with venom and madness. “She has killed you before! She will kill you in the future! That is your fate, you dumb alien god!” With a surge of defiance, he gripped my elbow with his left arm, his fingers digging into my skin.

Blinded by rage, I grasped his arm and, with a savage twist, ripped it from his body. The sound of tearing flesh and cracking bone echoed through the air as Arthur’s scream of agony pierced the silence.

“Aaaaargh! Aaaaah!” Arthur writhed in unbearable pain, yet the fire in his eyes remained. With a final burst of strength, he lashed out, his leg shooting up to deliver a brutal kick to my crotch. The sudden, sharp pain made me stagger, momentarily throwing me off balance.

But my anger was unrelenting. I shoved Arthur back to the ground, his body crumpling beneath the force, and without hesitation, I seized his leg—the same one that had assaulted me. With raw, brutal strength, I tore it from his body, the sickening sound of ripping tendons and splintering bone filling the air.

“Gaaaah! Aaaah!” Arthur’s cries of agony grew louder, yet even in his broken state, he refused to surrender. He swung his remaining foot at my knees, desperation fueling his every move.

Annoyed by his persistence, I slammed my foot down on his left knee with all my might. The bone shattered beneath the force, sending a spray of blood across the rocky ground as Arthur howled in pain.

“Aaaaah! Fuck you! Fuck you, Lysandeeeer!” His voice was hoarse, ragged with pain, yet still laced with defiance.

Hearing his shouts only fueled my rage. Memories of the Previous Timeline Hiraya’s suffering surged through my mind like a torrent. The pain she endured, the countless lives he snuffed out, and the deep wound he inflicted on my soul by twisting me into his puppet—this was nothing compared to what he deserved.

With cold precision, I reached for the Orb of Exceria embedded in his forehead. The magical artifact that once symbolized his power was now reduced to a mere trinket in my grasp. I ripped it from his flesh effortlessly, feeling a twisted satisfaction as his power dimmed.

But it wasn’t enough.

I clamped my hands around his throat, the force of my grip cutting off his breath as I hoisted him up. His eyes bulged in panic, but I had no mercy left to give. With a surge of primal fury, I slammed his head against the jagged rocks beneath us. The sound of bone meeting stone echoed in the air, but I didn’t stop. Again and again, I bashed his skull into the ground, each impact driving my anger deeper, each blow releasing the pent-up rage that had festered within me for so long.

Blood began to seep from his scalp, staining the rocks in a dark crimson pool. His eyes twitched, his face a mask of pain and terror. Blood dribbled from his lips and nose, but still, I didn’t relent. My hands tightened around his neck, squeezing the last vestiges of life from his body.

Finally, I felt it—the snap of his neck, the final break that signaled the end. His body went limp, and silence fell over the cliffside.

And that was when I knew—Arthurius Elkyria Neos, the King of Humanity’s Wickedness, was truly dead.

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The bell towers tolled, their somber chimes reverberating across the desolate landscape, heralding the beginning of a tale steeped in darkness. I had seized control of every bell tower, turning them into my personal broadcast stations, their echoes carrying my telepathic message to every corner of the world. The stage was set, and I stood at its center, atop the ruined throne of the Empire of Alterra’s once-majestic castle.

Taking a deep breath, I began my proclamation, my voice resonating with an unyielding authority that rippled through the very fabric of the planet.

“Attention, entire world, and hear my proclamation. I am Lysander Faradeiss, the Reincarnation of Necross and the Foreign God of the Underworld. The King of Humanity, Arthurius Elkyria Neos, has died by my hand. I have also slain the Elder of Yggdra, the Head Priest of Onishira, the Queen of Nocturnia, and the Admiral-General of Kraghelm. The Supreme Leader of the Republic of Dragons is no more, struck down by my wrath. Without the Dragon Lords to defend you, a new era dawns—with me as your one and only ruler.”

I spread my arms wide, and as if summoned by my very will, an infinite army of undead warriors emerged from the shadows, their presence an overwhelming tide of despair. Across the lands of elves, onis, vampires, dwarves, mermaids, and dragonoids, my undead knights took their positions, their spectral forms casting a pall over every nation. The world trembled in terror as the ultimate darkness descended, consuming all in its path.

“No one has the power to defy me anymore. Anyone who dares to challenge my absolute authority will face the fury of my undead army. Those capable of resisting are no more. From this day onward, the world is mine.”

The skies above turned a deep, menacing red, a bloodstained canvas that stretched across the entire planet. This was no longer merely the ascension of Necross—this was my Final Ascension, and with it, the world would kneel before its new god.