My Goblin System : Levelling up with my SSS Class Devouring skill-Chapter 253

Sylvara nodded, wiping the last of her tears away. "He always underestimated people. Thought his centuries of experience made him invincible. Thought his reputation alone would protect him." She looked down at the spot where her father’s body had been, now completely dissolved. "I’m glad he was wrong."

A groan from across the throne room interrupted the moment. The dying cultist Satou had questioned earlier was making weak sounds, their breathing becoming increasingly labored as blood loss took its final toll.

Grimnir started toward them again, axe raised. "Should I—"

"No," Satou said quietly. "Let them pass on their own. They’ve given us the information we needed."

Within moments, the cultist’s breathing stopped entirely, and silence fell over the throne room.

"We need to move," Satou said, his voice returning to its usual commanding tone. The power integration was still ongoing, but he’d managed to compartmentalize it enough to function. "That countdown the cultist mentioned—we have maybe six minutes left before this place destroys itself."

That got everyone moving immediately. They turned and began running back through the corridors, retracing the path of destruction Satou had carved during his berserker rampage. Bodies of Merc Assault’s followers littered the halls, testament to the one-sided slaughter.

The fortress was deteriorating rapidly now. Walls cracked with sounds like rifle shots. Ceiling stones fell in increasing frequency, forcing them to dodge debris. The magical wards that had maintained the structure’s integrity were failing one by one, and without that support, centuries-old stonework was beginning to collapse.

Red warning lights pulsed throughout the corridors, accompanied by a grinding sound that grew steadily louder like massive gears turning somewhere deep below.

"This way!" Shadow Sylvara called out, taking the lead despite her emotional state. She knew the fortress layout from her previous reconnaissance attempts, and that knowledge was proving invaluable now.

They burst through a corridor just as the ceiling behind them collapsed completely, tons of stone crashing down and blocking their previous path. Dust filled the air, making breathing difficult.

"Faster!" Kelvin shouted, pulling Urgot along. The young orc was flagging, his injuries and exhaustion finally catching up to him despite his determination.

They reached the main entrance hall—the massive space where Satou had first entered after destroying the gates. The hole he’d punched through the fortified door was still there, offering an escape route bathed in moonlight from outside.

But the hall itself was coming apart. Pillars that had stood for centuries were cracking, pieces of the vaulted ceiling raining down like deadly hail.

"GO!" Satou commanded, and they all sprinted for the exit.

Grimnir went through first, his massive frame clearing the opening. Kelvin followed, half-carrying Urgot. Freda stumbled but caught herself and made it through. Sylvara moved with practiced grace despite her emotional turmoil.

Satou brought up the rear, his enhanced perception letting him track falling debris and guide his path to avoid being crushed. He dove through the opening just as a massive section of ceiling collapsed directly where he’d been standing.

They emerged into the courtyard to find it in chaos. The outer walls were crumbling, towers swaying like trees in a storm. The ground itself was shaking as if the earth was trying to reject the fortress’s existence.

"The carriage!" Kelvin shouted, pointing to where their transport waited at the edge of the destruction zone. The demon horses were agitated but holding position, well-trained despite the chaos.

They ran across the courtyard, dodging falling stones and leaping over cracks that were opening in the ground. Behind them, the fortress’s central keep—that massive tower that had dominated the structure—began to tilt.

They reached the carriage and piled in without any semblance of order or dignity. Bodies landed on top of each other in a tangle of limbs and weapons.

"DRIVE!" Satou roared at the driver before he’d even fully entered the vehicle.

The driver needed no further encouragement. He snapped the reins with desperate urgency, and the demon horses launched forward with supernatural speed that felt like being shot from a cannon.

The carriage rocketed away from the fortress at a pace that blurred the landscape. Inside, everyone was thrown around as the vehicle bounced over rough terrain, the driver caring nothing for comfort and everything for distance.

Behind them, Merc Assault’s fortress entered its final death throes.

The towers fell first, massive structures that had stood for centuries collapsing like children’s blocks. Stone and mortar that had been reinforced with dark magic for generations simply disintegrated, reduced to rubble in seconds.

Then the outer walls imploded with a sound like thunder, pulled inward by forces that defied physics. The nightmare-magic that had sustained the fortress for so long was consuming it, eating away at the very substance of the structure to ensure nothing remained.

The central keep—hundreds of feet of twisted architecture that had served as Merc Assault’s seat of power—collapsed in on itself with a groan that sounded almost alive. The entire structure compressed into a single point, reality warping visibly around it.

Then it exploded.

The detonation was catastrophic. A sphere of pure destructive force expanded outward from the fortress’s heart, vaporizing everything it touched. Stone, earth, corrupted magic—all of it consumed and converted to raw energy.

The shockwave hit like a physical wall.

Even though the carriage was nearly a quarter mile away by now, the force of the blast caught them. The vehicle’s front wheels lifted off the ground, tilting backward at a dangerous angle. For a horrifying moment, Satou thought they were going to flip completely.

Then the wheels slammed back down with bone-jarring force, and the demon horses somehow kept running, their supernatural endurance the only thing saving them from being thrown off balance.

Heat washed over them next—not quite hot enough to burn, but intense enough to make sweat bead instantly on exposed skin. The driver hunched over the reins, shielding his face while maintaining control through sheer skill and determination.

A massive cloud of dust, smoke, and pulverized stone rose into the air behind them, forming a mushroom-shaped column that climbed hundreds of feet into the night sky. It glowed with residual nightmare-magic, sickly green light pulsing through the darker smoke.