Chapter 981
Episode 243: The Red King’s Ambush (Part 1)
The Intermediate World.
Since the Battle of Meisil, the Jeokmyeong tribe had been relentlessly exploring the Intermediate World.
Leaving only minimal guard forces in the four cities—including Pibilok—they began searching for the “Land of the Martial God.”
Pibil, Patl, Rital, and Vesl.
All four airborne fortresses, except for Us which Elona had seized, were operational. Pibil and Patl had sustained some damage in battle but had already been repaired.
“If it weren’t for our comrade Simat, the Jeokmyeong tribe would have met a miserable end.”
Right after Elona’s surprise attack on Usrok, only Simat had insisted on risking everything to strike at the royal palace.
Thanks to that, the Jeokmyeong tribe swiftly regained some of their former glory and broke free from the palace’s control.
Though the Balmel Alliance and the Sun God Cult complicated matters, the operation was an undeniable success.
“And Simat… perhaps he is our true Martial God. Whenever he spoke, there was an unexplainable aura of authority about him.”
After this mission, Simat had already earned recognition from all their kin, rivaling even the Great Martial Kings.
Bakarun and Rakhiman—Simat’s original superior—felt something especially strange about him.
An instinct that they must not disobey his words.
“Comrade Bakarun! We’ve just received a report from Vesl, currently scouting Nilrot. They’ve found the sword and seal of the Martial God comrade at a suspected royal hideout near Nilrot!”
The sword and seal of the Jeokmyeong Martial God.
These two relics had been the very reason the Jeokmyeong tribe initially believed the royal palace’s claims.
They knew exactly where their Martial God was.
“Transmit immediately. Inform His Majesty.”
“Understood!”
“And summon comrade Simat from Patl.”
“Yes, sir!”
In the command bridge, a circular artifact rested on the table.
This artifact was used to project holograms for communication or, as now, to send objects.
A red energy rose above it, opening a small dimensional portal.
From within emerged a sword and a golden belt. The Jeokmyeong warriors watching knelt on one knee.
“The Red King’s sword and seal… truly, these belong to our Martial God comrade!”
Many among them wept.
They behaved like worshippers who had finally discovered a lost relic of their god.
Bakarun had summoned Simat, hoping he might react to the sword and seal.
Just as predicted, the moment Simat stepped into the Pibil fortress, his presence shifted noticeably.
Even the mid- and lower-ranking Great Martial Kings and warriors sensed the change.
They didn’t stop him as he strode over to the artifact and gently touched the sword and seal.
“Ah…”
The instant he gripped the sword, forgotten memories flooded his mind like a rushing river.
Who he truly was, why he had vanished before the Great Sealing and assumed the identity of ‘Simat.’
And what he must do from now on.
“As I thought, my choice was not wrong.”
Simat said, glancing around.
Those who had been kneeling now bowed deeply to him.
Only the communications officers remained seated, broadcasting the news to the entire fortress and fleet: the Martial God had returned.
The Red King of the Crimson Sky had come back.
As the message spread, massive dimensional portals opened all around Pibil.
All airborne fortresses and fleets rushed to pay homage to the returned Martial God.
“Martial God… comrade, I have always believed you would return. To think you were so close all along…”
Bakarun kissed the back of Simat’s hand and then personally fastened the sword and belt onto him.
Unlike the Cheongmyeong tribe, to the Jeokmyeong, the Martial God was the earthly representative of the Sun God—the very focus of their faith.
To them, the Martial God was more than the strongest warrior or supreme commander.
“Bakarun, when I lived as Simat, you always made mostly sound decisions. You’ve done much to empower me.”
“I am only sorry I could not do better.”
“Co-comrade Martial God… I, Rakhiman, was foolish not to recognize you sooner.”
Rakhiman had made many disappointing choices while commanding Simat.
Simat chuckled softly, recalling those mistakes.
“From now on, do better. After all, I changed my appearance and identity without telling you. I won’t blame you.”
The Great Martial Kings of the Jeokmyeong were linked to their fortresses—the airborne citadels.
They could use that power to transform into battle forms called Fortress Forms and wield unique abilities granted by the Martial God to each fortress.
But unlike the Great Martial Kings, the Martial God was connected to the sword.
The sword, Tetalon, forged from a fragment of the Sun God’s flesh, radiated a crimson glow.
Its energy seeped into Simat, restoring him to his true form.
His hair deepened to a richer red and lengthened, while runes symbolizing the Martial God appeared across his body.
His eyes blazed like burning embers, his chest radiated a deep crimson light as if blood had been solidified.
Outside the command bridge, the dim sky of the Intermediate World was dyed entirely red.
The Martial God’s power resonated with the entire Intermediate World.
“I will explain later why I hid my identity and lived as Simat among you. For now, we must find my land—Kritil.”
Kritil.
The ancient capital of the Jeokmyeong tribe, the Land of the Martial God.
There, the Jeokmyeong’s strongest airborne fortress was hidden.
Since resuming full operations, the Jeokmyeong had sought it relentlessly.
But unlike other sealed cities, Kritil was buried in a completely different location.
Because the Martial God himself had hidden it before vanishing, there were no clues.
The Jeokmyeong had only assumed the royal palace might know its whereabouts.
Simat began inputting coordinates into the artifact.
“Comrade Martial God, this place…”
Bakarun studied the coordinates.
They pointed to the surface.
By ordinary standards, it could be called underground, but by the “Boundary of Ameris” standards, it wasn’t even part of the Intermediate World.
The capital of the Ziphl.
Drakka.
Kritil was hidden beneath it.
“Yes, outside the boundary. And beneath the Ziphl capital. I didn’t expect this when I first chose the location, but it seems the Sun God has watched over us…”
Since the Ziphl appeared in history, Drakka had never once belonged to them.
Even before the Ziphl’s arrival, the land where Drakka stood was the greatest prize given to the era’s dominant powers.
Kritil lay within that land’s crust.
Like most other regions, Drakka’s crust had never suffered a catastrophic impact.
That was why no one had found Kritil until now.
It was literally a relic of an ancient civilization preserved intact beneath the earth.
“Comrades, Kritil was never sealed by the Great Serpent. It still holds the spoils we took back then, and powerful weapons to strangle our enemies remain intact.”
The Jeokmyeong’s eyes widened.
Until now, they had assumed Kritil must be somewhere in the Intermediate World or underground.
“Then, does that mean we can strike at the heart of the Ziphl anytime…!?”
“Yes, comrade Bekios. But Drakka cannot be called the Ziphl’s true core. Symbolically, it is the capital of the entire Lutero Federation, but their real heart lies in the Tower of Stories.”
Simat paused, recalling information about the Tower of Stories.
“The power to manipulate history… fools. They believe they can do what even the Sun God could not. If that were possible, why wouldn’t the Sun God have rewritten history before dying?”
The airborne fortresses opened dimensional portals toward the coordinates Simat set.
“It’s time to set foot on our homeland and teach those arrogant humans a lesson. Move out!”
“Jeokmyeong!”
The fortresses and fleets began passing through the portals.
Soon, the Jeokmyeong reached Kritil’s capital.
As Simat had said, Kritil was preserved exactly as it had been in ancient times.
“Oh…!”
“Kritil!”
For longer than human history, not even dust had settled on Kritil.
The city shimmered, wrapped in a transparent crystal-like barrier.
The Jeokmyeong disembarked and followed Simat to inspect the city.
Preserved comrades in stasis devices looked as if they could awaken at any moment with a blood transfusion.
Nearby, countless containers stored blood from the Cheongmyeong and demon tribes.
Using that blood, the city could be revived instantly.
The Jeokmyeong could barely contain their excitement, shouting repeatedly.
“It’s too soon to celebrate, comrades. From now on, I will hold a festival of blood in Drakka. There will be more than enough for all to enjoy.”
As Eltiot had said, Simat was not just a figure of raw power.
His greatest strengths were leadership, strategy, and bold decisiveness.
“By now, Elona and the Ziphl are probably analyzing the seized Us in the Tower of Stories. The capital is filled with Keliak and his rabble. Even if Elona is on standby, it won’t matter. If the four airborne fortresses and Kritil strike simultaneously, that monster will have no choice but to flee.”
Even after witnessing Usrok fall so quickly to Elona’s single assault, the Jeokmyeong did not doubt Simat’s words.
Had Usrok been fully prepared, Elona would not have won so decisively.
Currently, the Jeokmyeong fleet’s strength exceeded even Ram of the Fierce God War.
Simat soon took his seat on the throne inside Kritil’s inner fortress.
Breathing energy into the circular artifact before the throne, the entire city began shifting into battle readiness.
As the power source of the airborne fortress, the ‘Kree,’ roared to life, the entire earth and sky trembled.
“Once we rise to the main cannon’s firing range, we’ll unleash bombardment from beneath the ground and reduce their city to ashes. Today, Drakka will become the land of our Jeokmyeong tribe.”
“Jeokmyeong!”
As the Jeokmyeong warriors moved with precise coordination, Simat grinned slyly and added, “And Eltiot, Ameris, and my old friend Jin Runkandel—they’ll all find out I’ve returned. I’m curious to see the looks on their faces.”