Will of the Unyielding [LitRPG Apocalypse • Progression]

The three soldiers dressed in yellow stood side by side, staring toward the city gate ahead.

"The higher-ups must really want to teach these rebels a lesson. They went as far as to dispatch the three of us at once within just a few days," Gilbert said with a smirk.

Stephan replied, his expression didn't so much as twitch, "Can't blame them. It's been years since we last had a clear victory. If I were one of them, I too would've pushed for more now that we have the advantage."

Beside him, Charl sneered. "They're taking these rebels too seriously. Before we ascended, they might've been a danger to us, but now?"

He looked at the soldiers pouring out of the city gate and shook his head. "The last skirmish proved these rebels are only so-so."

"No," Stephan said, drawing Charl's and Gilbert's attention. "The higher-ups stressed that we must be cautious of Nemesis' leaders and never let our guard down."

Each soldier had been instructed to memorize the faces of Nemesis' leaders and higher-ups, along with a clear warning.

"If you meet one of them, don't engage unless there are Grade 1s to stop them."

Some of the names even had the word "Run" written right next to them.

It was safe to say that the Federation, although it pushed soldiers to ascend as soon as possible, ruining the futures of many, didn't want to see those soldiers die a pointless death.

Gilbert waved his hand. "We are three. As long as we don't run into their leaders, we'll be fine. I don't even know why we were so cautious last time, we could've killed way more than just a measly two."

Nodding, Charl grinned and said, "Gilbert's right. This time, we should kill as many as we can and let these scum learn their place."

Stephan swept his eyes over them and said, "Do whatever you want. Depending on the situation, I might leave you and run."

"You're no fun," Charl said.

Gilbert shook his head. He knew Stephan and thus knew that since he'd said so, there was nothing he could say to stop him.

By now the people pouring out from the gates had stopped.

A skinny young man stood at the edge of Nemesis' formation.

Seeing that the opposite side had prepared themselves, Gilbert stepped forward, cleared his throat, and shouted, initiating what had become a ritual for the two sides.

"Surrender to the Federation and you will be spared."

The shout travelled far. If not for the city's walls, it would've easily made its way inside.

But on Nemesis' side, nobody even so much as flinched.

Nova, trying to make sense of the situation, heard the call and frowned.

Instead of getting answers, he found himself with more questions.

He calmly approached one of the soldiers by the city gate, but as soon as the soldier saw him, panic flashed across the man's face.

"Sir, citizens should head inside quickly, it's dangerous here. Please go in," the soldier said hastily, pointing toward the gate.

Nova didn't mind the soldier's words. He asked, "Why is the Federation attacking their own city?"

The situation was about to escalate, and the soldier didn't even question why the man in front of him didn't know something so simple.

"Quarath hasn't been the Federation's for years. Now go quickly!" the soldier replied, urgency in his voice.

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At the front, the skinny-looking man stepped forward and shouted back, laughing, "Surrender? Ridiculous. Surrender to Nemesis and you shall be spared!"

He turned his head to the soldiers behind him and looked at their burning eyes, filled with fighting spirit. Then he raised his sword and shouted, "Nemesis!"

The soldiers raised their weapons in unison.

"NEMESIS!"

The skinny-looking man nodded and turned back to the Federation.

Without any additional words, he dashed toward them with a hundred soldiers followed right behind.

The Federation's soldiers saw this, and cold smiles played on their lips.

Gilbert stared ahead and shouted, "Engage!"

The three Grade 1s, followed by the soldiers, charged toward the city gate.

Nova stood still, his head tilted downward as he pondered something.

Right then, seemingly having come to a decision, he looked toward the Federation's side and vanished.

Before the three Grade 1s and the soldiers behind them could even reach halfway, a pressure that felt like the sky itself had just dropped onto their shoulders pressed down on them.

Thud.

Their minds froze. Their knees slammed into the ground with loud crashing sounds, some of them breaking immediately.

The normal soldiers were in disbelief, their heads bowed, staring at the ground close enough they could almost kiss it.

They struggled to lift their heads but they couldn't.

The pressure was immense.

They didn't know what was happening, they hadn't seen anyone approaching.

But one thought kept them going. They knew there were three Grade 1s on their side.

They just needed to endure and wait for those three to resolve the situation.

What the soldiers didn't know was that their hope, the three Grade 1s they relied on, were also kneeling on the ground, faces filled with terror.

Compared to the rest of the soldiers, the three had enough strength to lift their heads and see a person standing before them, just one step away.

They could see his eyes staring at them as if they were the lowest of servants, only able to move when he commanded.

Gilbert felt fear for the first time since he had ascended.

His lips trembled as he muttered softly, "How… could this be?"

He couldn't understand.

He was a Grade 1 warrior, regarded as one of the strongest on Earth, so much so that wherever he went, people cheered, and children gazed at him with star-filled eyes, hoping to be like him one day.

But now…

Now all his strength, the very thing he had been so proud of, only allowed him to lift his head in front of this person.

Stephan and Charl weren't faring any better.

Stephan tried to match this face with the ones recorded in the database to watch out for, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't recall it being recorded.

Nonsense! How could someone so strong not be listed in the Federation's database?!

He shouted in his mind.

By now, Nemesis' soldiers had also come to an abrupt stop.

Their previously raised weapons now hung low, their hands slightly trembling as they stared at the sight of the Federation's soldiers kneeling before them.

Nova calmly turned his head toward the skinny-looking man and said, "You, come here."

The man audibly gulped and slowly walked up to Nova, thinking, Who is he?

He could fearlessly talk to Grade 1s from the Federation and charge at them, yet the young man in front of him terrified him.

"Y-Yes?"

"I need some answers, and I want to hear both sides of the story," Nova said calmly. "All you need to do is answer honestly."

The skinny-looking young man quickly nodded.

/////

Inside one of the biggest villas in Quarath.

"General! General!" a soldier shouted as he hurried down the stairs and into the basement.

The basement's walls were similar to the city walls, just smaller in scale. The floor was pristine white, and the room was as large as two football fields. The sides were lined with various machines and dummies.

In short, it was a room designed for training.

A man dressed in white training clothes, with medium-length blonde hair tied back and a sword hanging at his waist, stood in the middle of the room.

His eyes were closed as he regulated his breathing.

Even the simple act of breathing created a formless, invisible pressure around him.

"Warlord!"

The soldier, standing a dozen meters away, shouted, this time using a different title. He was panting slightly from having dashed here as fast as possible.

Warlord.

It was the title the General who commanded the Legion had slowly earned after dozens of battles against the Federation over the years, with not a single loss on his record.

Darius Fortune.

He was one of the few people marked by the Federation with the tag "Run."

After Cassidy learned of Nova's return, she quickly dismissed the meeting. Darius, knowing his Boss was back, returned to his villa to calm his mind and get back into tip-top form.

He didn't want his Boss to find him lacking.

Darius opened his eyes slowly and said, "I'm listening."

"Warlord, the Federation is currently attacking with the same three Grade 1s from last time," the soldier reported.

"Who's in charge of today's shift?" Darius asked evenly.

The soldier didn't miss a beat. "Commander Fusor. As soon as he saw the three Grade 1s, he sent me here to request aid."

"Hmm, indeed. He's just been appointed, there's no way he can take on three Grade 1s," Darius murmured to himself and he slowly walked toward the entrance.

The soldier couldn't help but ask, "Warlord, the reinforcements…"

Darius waved his hand. "Don't bother. I'm going."

The soldier stood still in place. He couldn't believe his ears.