FFF Class Auto Hero: The Weakest Class Turned Out To Be The Strongest?-Chapter 36: Moonlight Over Ashes

The dark fire raged outward, consuming the air in a searing inferno, while thick plumes of black smoke billowed upward, obscuring the mountainside in a choking haze.

The ground shuddered under the explosion’s might, the earth splitting and collapsing into a massive crater that stretched wide, its edges scorched and smoldering.

The black flames flickered out as quickly as they had erupted, leaving only the acrid scent of burnt flesh and the rising smoke in their wake.

As the haze settled, Lunareio stood at the crater’s center, unscathed. A shimmering shield of silvery light enveloped him, its surface unmarred by the blast, though faint cracks spiderwebbed across it from the sheer force it had absorbed.

He lowered his hand, the shield dissipating into motes of moonlight that drifted away on the wind. His mismatched eyes surveyed the devastation with a faint flicker of amusement, his lips curling into a subtle smirk.

"Clever," he murmured. "A puppet rigged to detonate so the secrets of your art would not be studied and stolen. Mages have always been selfish with their knowledge."

He brushed a stray ember from his sleeve, his gaze lingering on the emptiness where Harrow had been, as if contemplating the mortal’s final act.

As the smoke from Harrow’s explosive demise dissipated completely, Guardian’s voice echoed within Lunareio’s mind.

『Objective complete. Results unsatisfactory. Target’s mention of a ’council’ implies an organized body attempting to unravel natural order. No such information exists in database. Obtaining data has been labeled a necessity for future missions.』

Lunareio exhaled a soft sigh as he extended his right hand. The phantom moon spear, still embedded in the scorched earth, trembled briefly before flying into his grasp, its shaft cool against his palm. He twirled it once, then tilted his head slightly as if considering his next move.

"Gregor," he called.

In an instant, shadows writhed and coalesced before him, forming into the figure of that blond-haired demon. Gregor dropped to one knee, bowing his head. "You called, my lord?"

Lunareio’s gaze drifted to the distance, where Veyrn’s crumpled body lay, chest rising faintly with shallow breaths.

"Take him to Vellrek," he instructed, nodding toward the fallen mortal.

"Tell him I sent you. I wish to know what that mortal knows about this ’council.’"

Gregor’s lips curved into a sly smile. "As you wish, my lord." With a flicker of movement, he vanished from sight, reappearing beside Veyrn’s body in a swirl of shadow. He hoisted the unconscious mortal over his shoulder with ease, then disappeared again, leaving only a faint ripple in the air behind him.

Lunareio turned his attention elsewhere, his mismatched eyes narrowing as they fixed on a point in the distance—near the ruins of that ancient temple, where the earth trembled, and those massive, writhing tentacles erupted from the ground, their surfaces slick and pulsating.

Guardian’s voice chimed in once more.

『Guardian: Target identified—Fallen-ranked realm eater. Threat level: A. Eradication required.』

Realm eaters, as classified by the Goddess of Time and Knowledge, were beings of immense power, ranked on a scale of ten tiers.

According to her ancient texts, these ranks spanned from the weakest, known as "Nascent," to the unfathomable "Transcendent."

Each rank represented an exponential leap in strength, a chasm so vast that a single tier’s difference could render one entity utterly powerless against the next.

The lower ranks—Nascent, Awakened, Crest, Fallen, and Shattered—had been witnessed in this world, their appearances rare but devastating.

The upper five—Ascendant, Sovereign, Eternal, Divine, and Transcendent—remained the stuff of legend, unseen and unspoken of for millennia.

Even among the known ranks, the strength disparity was staggering; a Fallen-ranked realm eater, like the one before Lunareio now, could tear through legions of mortals and lesser beings with ease, its very presence a blight on reality.

Lunareio sighed again, a faint trace of weariness in the sound, though his expression remained composed.

He kicked off the ground, his body rising into the air as a faint shimmer of moonlight enveloped him.

Then, with a sudden burst of speed, he shot forward, streaking toward the emerging tentacle like a silver comet.

...

...

In the distance, amid the chaos of the collapsing temple ruins, the succubus priestess Lilith stood overseeing the evacuation.

Around her, her priestesses worked tirelessly, guiding the last of the trembling slaves away from the crumbling structure. One of them, a young demoness with crimson skin and curved horns, approached her, bowing low.

"High Priestess..."

"...the evacuation is complete. All the slaves are safe."

Lilith nodded, her lips curling into a faint mischievous smile. "You’ve done an excellent job..." she replied, then stretched out her hands. "All of you," she said with joy.

"I am certain our lord will shower us with praise upon our return."

Another priestess, Selene, stepped forward, her brow furrowed with concern. "High Priestess, what are we to do about the realm eater?" she asked, glancing toward the massive tentacle still writhing in the distance, its grotesque form casting a shadow over the ruins as the surrounding space began to distort around it, as it used its tentacles to feed on the rubble and all that was around it.

Lilith sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as she folded her arms beneath her massive bust. "Our lord never stated what is to be done about these creatures," she said, with mild disgust. "But the mere sight of them makes my skin crawl. No matter—let us be on our way."

Before they could move, one of the younger priestesses gasped, her clawed hand pointing skyward. "High Priestess... isn’t that... isn’t that our lord?"

Lilith immediately tilted her head upward to see him; she sensed the surge of divine energy trailing through the air—streaking toward the realm eater like a silver comet.

She instantly knew it was Lunareio, his phantom moon spear gleaming in his grasp. She paused, her breath catching for a moment, then she blushed deeply, a look of joy and excitement appearing on her face, then murmured, "It is indeed him."

Instantly, the other priestesses dropped to their knees, hands clasped. Whispers rippled through the group, their voices rising in awe and devotion.

"Perhaps our lord has come to deal with this creature."