Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory-Chapter 158: The Second Strongest

Seeing that Ethan didn’t press the issue or try to force anything, Balthazar, the Chieftain of the Behemoths, was momentarily surprised. Then he chuckled and shook his head. "Still, if those Dungeon bastards really do come knocking, we can always join forces."

"That works too..."

Ethan smiled, then stood up. "Well, in that case, Chieftain Balthazar, I won’t take up any more of your time. I’ll be on my way."

Sure, he was a little disappointed that he hadn’t managed to win over the Behemoth faction, but what could he do?

Some things just can’t be forced.

Besides, we’re talking about over fifty Legendary Behemoths and Mythic-tier Ancient Behemoths. That’s a massive force—one that even in the old single-player version of the game would’ve been impossible to recruit with just a few words.

And this wasn’t a game anymore. This was the real world of Glory Lords X.

Honestly, Ethan had already braced himself for the possibility of rejection. So it didn’t hit him too hard.

And truth be told, his personality just wasn’t the type to cling or beg.

There was still time. He’d let things play out naturally.

As long as Emerald Castle stood strong, the opportunity would come again.

"Alright, I’ll see you out," Balthazar said, rising to his feet.

The two of them walked out of the Behemoth Lair together, chatting casually like nothing had happened.

"Master, are you okay?" Seraphina rushed up the moment Ethan returned, concern written all over her face.

"Don’t worry, I’m fine." Ethan gave her a reassuring smile. "Let’s head back, Seraphina."

"...Okay!" Seraphina blinked, clearly curious and a little confused about how things had gone, but she held back her questions. Instead, she lowered herself so Ethan could climb onto her back.

"Chieftain Balthazar, until next time."

Ethan mounted Seraphina, gave Balthazar a wave, then gently patted Seraphina on the head.

ROAR!

A thunderous dragon cry split the sky. Seraphina’s body tensed, her wings spread wide, and with a powerful thrust, she shot into the air, disappearing into the thick clouds above.

Balthazar didn’t move. He just stood there, watching silently as Ethan and Seraphina vanished into the sky. His expression was unreadable, his eyes distant.

No one could tell what he was thinking.

"Chieftain, what did you two talk about just now?" A deep, gravelly voice broke the silence. An Ancient Behemoth stepped forward—its body radiating a terrifying platinum aura, though its face was lined with age. A 14-Tier powerhouse.

"He asked if we’d temporarily join Emerald Castle to fight against the Dungeon army," Balthazar replied without hesitation.

Join Emerald Castle?

The Ancient Behemoth who’d asked the question froze for a second.

And he wasn’t the only one.

Nearby, several other Behemoths—13-Tier Legendary Units and 14-Tier Ancient Behemoths—also stiffened, their expressions shifting.

They exchanged uneasy glances, their faces a mix of surprise, tension, and something else... something harder to read.

All eyes turned to Balthazar.

"Relax. I turned him down."

Balthazar shook his head as he spoke, his tone calm but firm. "I know what you’re all thinking. I feel the same way. Compared to losing our freedom, I’d rather work with those filthy Hydras. Worst case, once the Dungeon army pulls back, we can settle our old scores with them then."

"ROAR! ROAR! ROAR!"

"Chieftain Balthazar, you’re the best!"

"Joining Emerald Castle means handing over your soul to him. That’d put us completely under his control. No way I’m okay with that!"

"Exactly! I’d rather take my chances with the Hydras and those damn Venomspike Manticores. It’s just a temporary alliance anyway. Once it’s over, we can turn right around and crush them too!"

"Damn right. I’m not on board either!"

...

Only the aged 14-Tier Ancient Behemoth who had spoken up earlier hesitated. His mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something.

But seeing the others’ reactions, he swallowed his words.

"...Sigh."

He let out a quiet breath, shook his head, and said nothing more.

...

Meanwhile—

In the northeastern reaches of the Fury Wasteland, deep within a vast, toxic swamp forest...

A place where death clings to every inch of land, where even the air reeks of decay.

This was Ashenwood.

Glurp... glurp...

Bubbles rose steadily from the poisonous marsh, the thick, greenish-black water churning ominously.

Beneath the surface, countless bones lay scattered—some half-submerged, others jutting out like warning signs. The sight alone could make your skin crawl.

ROAR!

Suddenly, a thunderous lion’s roar echoed through the sky. A massive, blood-red Venomspike Manticore—12-Tier and terrifying—descended from the clouds, its wings slicing through the air as it landed with a heavy thud.

The moment it touched down, the swamp, which had been eerily silent, began to stir.

HISSSSS! ROOOAR!

A chorus of guttural, serpentine howls rang out, echoing through the twisted trees and bubbling muck.

Splash! Splash!

Water erupted as dozens of monstrous heads broke the surface—twisting, writhing, somewhere between dragon, serpent, and nightmare.

Dozens of glowing, malevolent eyes locked onto the Manticore, surrounding it in a tightening circle.

"Vorrak the Venomspike Manticore," a cold, hissing voice rang out. "What are you doing in our territory?"

The speaker was a 14-Tier Chaos Hydra, its voice like ice scraping across stone.

Vorrak—the Chieftain of the Venomspike Manticores from the southern Sylvanwood region. A beast of war, a hero among his kind.

He didn’t flinch.

His crimson eyes scanned the swamp, unfazed by the dozens of monstrous heads aimed at him.

"I’m not here for you," Vorrak said coolly. "Thal’Zor. Come out. We need to talk."

Chaos Hydra Thal’Zor—

The undisputed Chieftain of all 13-Tier Hydras and 14-Tier Chaos Hydras in the southern reaches of Sylvanwood!

More than just a high-tier unit, Thal’Zor is a special breed—one with the potential to ascend into a Unit Hero.

Just like Balthazar, the Behemoth Chieftain of the Fury Wasteland... or Orryn, the Green Dragon... or Oakenmaw, the Ancient War Tree.

And because of that, his power is off the charts.

Under normal circumstances, Chaos Hydra Thal’Zor can easily take on four—hell, even five—other 14-Tier Mythic Units of the same class and still come out on top.

In other words, this guy is a monster. A walking catastrophe.

His raw strength is second only to Balthazar, the Behemoth King of the Fury Wasteland.

Which is why Thal’Zor carries another title: the Second Strongest in the Southern Sylvanwood.

Number one? Balthazar.

Number three? Vorrak, the Venomspike Manticore King.

Now, you might be wondering—if Vorrak is a Unit Hero, how the hell is he ranked below Thal’Zor and Balthazar, who are just special units?

Well, there are three reasons for that.

First, Vorrak isn’t a Crimson Ultimate Hero—he’s only an Orange-tier Legendary Hero.

Second, he hasn’t undergone his second awakening yet. His level’s still pretty low.

And third? His race holds him back. He’s a 12-Tier Royal Unit, not a 13-Tier Legendary or a 14-Tier Mythic. That innate disadvantage has kept him suppressed from the start.

Still, a Unit Hero is a Unit Hero.

Give Vorrak a little more time to grow—he doesn’t even need to hit max level. Just get him to level 40, and he’ll absolutely be able to take down both Balthazar and Thal’Zor.

But right now...

"Ashenwood’s depths. Vorrak, what do you want from me?"

A voice echoed out—raspy, cold, and bone-chilling.

At the same time, the sound of rushing water exploded through the air—like a waterfall crashing down from the heavens.

BOOM!

A massive creature burst forth from the endless swamp, its body towering like a mountain.

It was colossal. Monstrous.

Its nine heads loomed high above, blotting out the sky like storm clouds. Each one twisted and writhed, casting shadows that swallowed the light. Darkness fell over the marsh as those heads turned downward, locking their gaze on Vorrak, the Venomspike Manticore Chieftain.

It was terrifying.

And in those eyes—cold, merciless, and brimming with rage—there was no hint of warmth. Only violence.

In the world of Glory Lords X, there are plenty of Legendary Units. Even Mythic ones.

But none of them are flawless.

Every single one has a weakness.

Angels—hypocritical and disloyal.

Dragons—greedy and capricious.

Behemoths—dumb and hot-tempered.

Devils—deceitful and cunning.

Undead—immortal and heartless.

Hydras—brutal and bloodthirsty. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

Titans—arrogant and full of themselves.

Kirin—stubborn and self-centered.

And Thal’Zor, as the Chieftain of the Hydras in southern Sylvanwood, embodied every last one of his kind’s "virtues" to the extreme.

The air around him was thick with killing intent—icy, suffocating, and creeping steadily toward Vorrak, the Venomspike Manticore.

It was cold enough to freeze bone.

But Vorrak wasn’t the type to back down.

"Hmph."

He let out a sharp snort, his expression darkening as he snapped, "Thal’Zor, would you mind dialing down that damn bloodlust of yours?"

"Sorry. Force of habit," Thal’Zor replied coolly.

All nine of his monstrous heads loomed above Vorrak, eighteen cold, piercing eyes staring him down like a predator sizing up prey.

"So, Vorrak. What do you want from me?"

"If it’s about the Dungeon army, didn’t we already settle that?"

"It’s related," Vorrak said with a sly smile, "but this is something else entirely. Trust me, Thal’Zor—you’re gonna want to hear this."

A heavy silence fell over the depths of Ashenwood.

After a moment, Thal’Zor spoke again, voice low and calm. "Follow me."

With that, the massive Chaos Hydra turned and began slithering deeper into the forest’s shadowy heart.

"Heh..."

Vorrak chuckled under his breath, wings spreading wide as he took to the air, a cold smirk on his face as he followed.

"Alright, spill it. What’s this really about?" Thal’Zor asked once they were alone, his voice sharp and direct.

Vorrak didn’t waste time. "You interested in teaming up with the Dungeon?"

Thal’Zor’s expression darkened instantly. His pupils narrowed, and—

BOOM!

A wave of pressure exploded from him as all nine heads whipped around, eyes blazing with menace as they locked onto Vorrak.

"You’re with the Dungeon?" he growled.

"Not yet," Vorrak said with a shrug, calm as ever. "But I will be soon."

"I ended up in the surface world by accident. You know that. And our kind—the Venomspike Manticores—we’ve always belonged to the Dungeon. So us going back? That’s not exactly shocking, is it?"

Thal’Zor fell silent.

He couldn’t argue with that.

The Venomspike Manticores were, after all, one of the Dungeon faction’s signature 12-Tier Royal Units—just like the Chaos Hydras were the Fortress faction’s iconic 14-Tier Mythic Units.

After a moment, Thal’Zor shook his heads and said flatly, "Not interested, Vorrak. And besides, faction-level moves like this? That’s way above our pay grade."

Then his eyes narrowed.

"But you... Vorrak, you’ve been in Sylvanwood long enough. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the rules set by that one?"