SSS-Grade Acceleration Talent made me Fastest Lord of Apocalypse
Chapter 110: Loss

Chapter 110: Loss

"Hahahaha... hahahaha..."

Unhinged laughter echoed through the empty throne hall, reverberating like a storm trapped in stone. The voice was harsh, erratic—a madman’s laugh, heavy with emotion and edged with madness.

Sitting atop the high throne carved of blue obsidian, the Blue Hammer King laughed with his head thrown back, his broad shoulders shaking with mirth that bordered on hysteria. Tears welled up at the corners of his eyes, but they never fell.

The screen of light before him displayed his crumbling walls—the once-proud bastion of their kingdom reduced to scorched rubble and retreating soldiers. And yet... he laughed.

Then, suddenly—footsteps.

Fast. Urgent. Echoing down the corridor with growing intensity.

The king’s laughter ceased as abruptly as it began. His expression returned to its usual cold, composed self, as though nothing had happened. Slowly, he adjusted the rich velvet of his royal cloak and straightened the collar with meticulous precision. He took one final glance into the silver-framed mirror beside his throne—calm, controlled, regal.

By the time the golden doors were flung open, he was once again the image of a ruler untouched by panic.

The doors parted like theatre curtains revealing a woman—a radiant figure cloaked in golden silks that shimmered like sunlight even in the dim torchlight of the throne room.

Her steps were quick, but her posture remained elegant. Hair pinned neatly in an elaborate bun, her expression was shadowed with concern, yet her grace did not falter. She looked every bit the queen, and more than that—a mother on the edge of fear.

For the briefest of moments, something in the king’s cold eyes softened. A warmth, long buried beneath years of steel and stone, flickered alive.

He rose from his throne and stepped toward her, his voice gentle in a way no one else had heard in years.

"Who is it that dares make my dear anxious?"

He tilted his head with a playful menace, a fond smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

"Does he not want to live anymore?"

The Queen’s eyes widened slightly at the intimate tone, but she quickly composed herself, brushing past the question as her gaze flicked toward the magical screen still showing the devastation outside.

"Husband..." she said, voice tight with emotion, "I am worried about our son."

There was no hesitation—no courtly language or veiled tones. It was the plea of a mother who feared the storm outside might take her most precious light.

For Queen Maren of the Blue Hammer Kingdom, nothing mattered more than their son. Not titles. Not cities. Not the throne.

Only him.

Even if the kingdom were reduced to ash nine times over, Queen Maren wouldn’t flinch. But if her precious son so much as scraped his skin, her heart would shatter.

The Blue Hammer King knew this all too well.

He stood there silently, watching her eyes—wide with fear, shining with maternal love—and in the depths of his own, a complicated storm brewed.

He was a father too.

But unlike her, his heart was not overflowing with boundless affection. In fact... he could feel something else. Something far darker.

Jealousy.

Before the boy was born, her love had been his alone. Unwavering. Obsessive. Almost sacred.

Now?

Now that love had splintered—divided between two men. One, the ruler of a kingdom. The other, a mere child.

And although the queen still looked at him with fondness, that old fire, that soul-consuming passion, was no longer there. The Blue Hammer King tried to ignore it. Denied it. Pretended it didn’t matter.

But it did.

Deeply.

So much so, he had begun to hate the very blood that came from his own veins.

Still, in front of his beloved, he masked it all with perfection.

With a deep breath, he closed the distance and wrapped his arms tightly around her slender waist. Her body was as soft and warm as he remembered, yet her mind was far away. She barely even acknowledged the gesture.

He whispered sweet reassurances. Soft words laced with care, meant to ease her worries.

But they didn’t.

"Husband," she said urgently, "why don’t you understand? I can feel it—our son is not safe. Something is terribly wrong!"

Her voice cracked slightly at the end, and her fingers clenched into the golden fabric of his robe. She looked up at him with watery eyes filled with desperation.

And the king’s expression... darkened.

This obsession—this unrelenting fixation with Damien’s safety—was a thorn in his heart. His jaw clenched, but he kept his arms around her, though his mind was far less tender.

Just then—a voice echoed through the throne hall.

Cold. Unfeeling. Cutting through the air like the blade of a guillotine.

The king’s eyes widened slightly.

It wasn’t the Queen. It wasn’t anyone present in the room.

It was Damien.

His voice carried with such weight that it seemed to descend from the heavens themselves, as if the sky itself had bent down to deliver a message to the throne.

And though he wasn’t there—nowhere near the palace—his tone somehow rang as if it were being spoken directly to the King.

From beyond the walls, loud rumbles followed. Explosions shook the foundations of the capital. The clamor of soldiers screaming and fleeing was growing louder and louder.

And that voice—the one that now echoed like judgment passed from above—spoke again.

The Blue Hammer King turned to the magical screen once more.

And on it...

Damien was walking through fire.

BOOM!

Another thunderous explosion tore through the city walls.

A massive section crumbled under the force, sending shards of stone and thick clouds of dust hurtling through the air. The ground trembled beneath the impact, and the dying sunlight filtered through the haze like blood dripping from the sky.

Panic reigned.

Blue Hammer Kingdom’s soldiers scrambled like ants, trying to regroup, but it was all in vain. Their formations were scattered, their morale shattered. No matter how many stood in Damien’s path, they were swept aside like dry leaves in a storm.

Unknowingly, Damien had grown terrifyingly adept at crushing numbers—his strength, honed in battlefield chaos, now worked like a scythe through wheat.

There was no time to waste on these "small fries."

Standing amid the rising smoke, his silhouette glowing faintly with residual blue sparks from his weapon, Damien raised his head and proclaimed—his voice calm but resounding with mana-infused authority:

"King of Blue Hammer, I have a magnanimous heart.

I can let bygones be bygones...

If you come out and publicly apologize."

The mana in his words rippled outward like a shockwave. The ground quaked gently, air hummed with power.

Even the underground bunkers weren’t spared.

Hidden away, the frightened citizens flinched as the unfamiliar voice reached them—clear and cold, like the judgment of a god descending from the heavens.

Some had no idea who the speaker was. But the tone, the sheer disdain in those words...

He didn’t just challenge the king.

He mocked him.

And it stung.

---

Meanwhile, in the royal hall, the queen’s panicked murmurs came to a halt.

Her arms, which had just been wrapped around her husband’s waist, fell limply to her sides.

The king slowly released her, his grip loosening as something ancient and primal stirred in his chest. His eyes glinted—not with anger, not yet—but with a savage delight.

A wicked, toothy grin curled on his face.

For the first time in years, he could feel his blood pumping with vigor.

Not the stale composure of politics.

Not the tired routine of ruling.

But battle. War. A challenge.

The surging adrenaline made him feel young again—like the days when his name alone could quell rebellion, when he fought on the front lines and bathed in enemy blood.

"Fool," he muttered, a chuckle rising from his throat. "You dare look down on me... in my kingdom?"

His fingers twitched at his side, crackling faintly with surging energy. The dormant predator inside him had awakened.

He turned his gaze toward the magical screen once more—where Damien stood tall and proud in front of the burning wall—and whispered with the edge of a grin:

"Very well. Let’s see how long that arrogance lasts."

"Husband, what happened?"

The queen’s voice trembled, her words laced with confusion and rising unease.

She stared at the Blue Hammer King with wide eyes, unable to comprehend the sudden shift in his demeanor. The gentle affection he’d just shown had vanished—snatched away like smoke in the wind.

A cold silence lingered.

Her heart twisted painfully in her chest. That man standing before her... wasn’t the same man who once used to hold her so tenderly, whispering promises of safety and peace into her ear under moonlit skies.

Now, his back was straight like a spear, his eyes distant—burning not with love, but with battlelust.

The queen clutched her chest.

"Why... why does it feel like you’re drifting away?"

A deep sadness surged through her, tinged with an unfamiliar ache—a hollow, gnawing sense of impending loss that chilled her to the bone.

But the king didn’t spare her a single glance.

His thoughts had already crossed the battlefield, where the wall crumbled and the enemy’s mocking voice echoed through the smoke.

He didn’t hear her.

He didn’t answer.

He simply walked forward, calm and deliberate, like a man possessed. The heavy air around him shimmered faintly with raw mana as if the palace itself were holding its breath.

By the time the queen blinked, he was gone.

The only thing left was the sound of the wind rustling the velvet drapes... and the wide-open window.

She stood frozen, her gaze drifting to the empty frame.

The king had leapt out and vanished into the dying light of dusk.

Gone.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.