Global Lords: Building the Strongest Civilization with SSS Rank Talent-Chapter 132: How to Deal with the Void Eater

A blinking amber notification overrode the war report on the primary screen.

[ INCOMING VIDEO TRANSMISSION: GORR ]

Red tapped the screen to accept the call. Gorr’s digital avatar materialized on the display. She dragged a hand down her face and let out a long breath.

[ Tell me you have a plan for the giant world-eating static wall, ] Gorr said, her voice echoing through the Void instance. [ Because I have eighty vassal contracts flashing distress signals at me right now. These minor pantheons are completely losing their minds. They are asking me to ask you. ]

Red leaned forward in his obsidian chair. [ Specify. ]

[ The western anomaly, ] Gorr replied. She crossed her arms over her chest and offered an exasperated look. [ You relocated the surrendered minor gods to the eastern hemisphere before the continental siege began. Good tactical move. Dozens of others were stationed too far west to migrate in time. The war locked them in place. Now they are trapped right next to the sleeping Void-Eater, and they are begging for an extraction timeline. ]

[ Tell them the situation is under control, ] Red stated, pulling up the western sector map on his secondary screen. [ I am working on it. ]

[ The last wave of that static wiped nearly two hundred deities from the server, ] Gorr warned, leaning closer to her camera. [ Nobody knows the algorithmic timer for the next expansion phase. If it wakes up before you finish your thing, those vassals get permanently erased. ]

[ I understand the parameters, ] Red replied. [ The anomaly will be handled. ]

A brief silence stretched across the open channel. Gorr slumped slightly in her seat. She dropped the urgent reporting tone entirely and offered a tired smirk.

[ You actually did it, you absolute lunatic, ] Gorr laughed, shaking her head. [ Four top-tier entities eradicated in three days. I am looking at the server leaderboards right now. You hit Rank 12. ]

Red stared at his own glowing crimson title on the screen. He tapped his fingers against the armrest. He felt absolutely no sense of accomplishment from the glowing text.

[ It takes most players centuries of grinding just to reach Rank 3, ] Gorr continued, her voice filled with genuine disbelief. [ You conquered the entire landmass in less than a year. You are the God of the Continent. Every surviving pantheon on this board answers to you now. ]

The rank was just a number granting him access to better industrial infrastructure. He possessed a continent-sized factory to build. He had a server-deletion anomaly to cage. The congratulations felt entirely useless.

[ Thanks for the update, Gorr. ] Red dragged his cursor over the communication tab and severed the connection.

A few days after the continental siege ended, ash finally settled over the eastern hemisphere and its borders.

The Troglodytes returned to the Onyx Hall to harvest the subterranean caverns, while the human militias remained far away to repair the damaged infrastructure within the City of Spiral.

Red’s monstrous vanguard stayed stationed at the Bastion. Deep inside the Alchemical Infirmary, the newly elevated Apostle Krug floated completely unconscious within a bio-vat of hyper-concentrated green sludge.

Iron-Scale attempted to manage the daily operations of the sprawling industrial fortress by approaching logistics with the same brutal mechanics he applied to combat. The Kobold assigned artillery crews to mine Star-Iron and ordered aquatic Grey-Fins to patrol the elevated dry ramparts, causing production pipelines to stall entirely as the bio-furnaces burned out of sync and wasted fuel.

Red watched the efficiency metrics plummet on his primary screen. He tapped his obsidian armrest and projected his voice directly into Iron-Scale’s mind.

[ Gather the elders. Bring them to the central temple. ]

Iron-Scale paused his erratic pacing on the ramparts to offer a rigid salute to the sky.

The inner sanctum of the Bastion’s temple reeked of burning alchemical fuel. Iron-Scale stood at the altar while Gorak loomed in the shadows with his newly healed carapace crusted in dried mud. An elder Lizard-man flicked a forked tongue to taste the environment beside a massive Mud-skipper resting its muscular limbs on the damp stone tiles.

An ancient Treant scraped its branches against the vaulted ceiling, and just outside the massive doors, the colossal form of Old-Shell cast a sprawling shadow over the courtyard.

Red’s voice manifested inside their skulls simultaneously.

[ The western and northern frontiers hold three hundred thousand new laborers who lack purpose and faith. ]

Gorak pounded a bone-plated fist against his chest. "We will break their false idols and teach them the Spiral."

[ Form your cadres by taking small teams of your finest veterans to march into the new territories and establish the doctrine. ] Red commanded. [ Convert the willing and purge the resistant to secure the borders. ]

Shifting his focus to the colossal entities waiting near the entrance, Red addressed them directly.

[ Old-Shell. Treants. ] The voice echoed with a metallic resonance. [ You have a different objective. March to the southern badlands where a pre-calamity vault rests miles beneath the neutral dirt. Crack the bedrock and secure the subterranean structure. ]

The Treant bowed its soot-stained trunk, and Old-Shell let out a deep rumbling growl of absolute obedience from the courtyard.

Adjusting his cracked visor, Iron-Scale stepped forward with his joints clicking loudly in the quiet temple.

"The vanguard marches, Ka-Lam-Tee," the Kobold hissed. "Who will maintain the Bastion’s industrial core during our absence? My administrative protocols are deeply flawed."

[ Transfer proxy authority to Moss-eye. ] Red stated. [ He possesses the required alchemical knowledge to keep the foundries operational. ]

Iron-Scale bowed low in acknowledgment.

An hour later, the massive iron gates of the Bastion ground open to release the expeditionary forces into the ash-covered plains. Gorak led a pack of thickly armored Troglodytes toward the northern ridges, while Iron-Scale and the Lizard-men marched west to claim the godless hordes.

Old-Shell lumbered southward with his massive footsteps shaking the bedrock, followed closely by a towering line of Treants to begin the grand expansion of the Spiral.

"I know the ’???’ fragments are related to the void eater, but I am yet to find all fragments. I don’t even know how many fragments there are. It’s a pain in the ass since they don’t show up in scans. Let’s hope Iron-Scale and Gorak find those fragments, so I can take care of the void eater once in for all before the next wave begins."