The moment the new guest stepped into the tavern,
a terrifying aura spread in all directions.
It wasn't intentional.
It was simply who he was.
In Kasha and Morgana's eyes, vast waves of dark energy coiled tightly around the man's body.
Instantly, the pressure inside the tavern multiplied.
Gray Wolf was so frightened that he dove straight under a table, trembling nonstop.
The newcomer was none other than the Nether King,
from the world of Ultra Beast Force.
The ruler of the Fifth Parallel Universe.
Leader of the Wolf Clan.
One of the four Nebula-level powerhouses across the Seven Parallel Universes.
And also—
The final guest in the tavern marked with the "Villain" trait.
Ron smiled and greeted him:
"Welcome, Lord Nether King.
I'm Ron, the owner of this tavern."
The Nether King walked to the bar and sat down, nodding slightly.
"It's been nearly one hundred thousand years."
"I never expected that the one to free me from the Xuanming Coffin
wouldn't be the Xuanming Key…"
"But an invitation from a tavern."
A hundred thousand years?!
Morgana and Kasha were both stunned.
If he had been sealed away for that long,
what level had his civilization reached before that?
Different worlds, yes—
but the underlying principles of civilization were often the same.
Neither of them spoke immediately.
Instead, they quietly observed the Nether King while beginning their analysis.
At that moment, Ron turned around, took a bottle from the liquor cabinet, and placed it in front of him.
"Try this.
It's called Gu Jing Gong Liquor."
Unlike the usual glass bottles,
this one was made of white porcelain, adorned with elegant blue patterns—
Low-key, refined, dignified.
Like a man who once lived recklessly in his youth,
but now carried calm authority without excess.
The Nether King accepted the bottle and gently inhaled.
A clean, elegant aroma instantly filled his senses.
"Not bad."
He nodded, raised his head, and took a deep drink.
His eyes lit up immediately.
Smooth and fragrant like an orchid,
sweet and mellow on entry,
with a lingering aftertaste that refused to fade.
For someone who hadn't tasted alcohol in a hundred thousand years,
it was intoxicating in more ways than one.
"I'm glad you like it," Ron said with a smile.
Then he asked calmly:
"After you're unsealed,
will you continue your campaign of conquest—
until you rule all seven parallel universes?"
Faced with this inevitable question,
the Nether King took another sip and replied indifferently:
"I rose from weakness to power.
I have witnessed every face of the universe."
"One hundred thousand years ago,
when the Wolf Clan was on the brink of extinction,
I learned a truth."
"Peaceful coexistence
is nothing more than self-deception by the weak."
"Only domination achieved through conquest
can bring about eternal peace."
Loneliness and cold resolve echoed in his voice.
This was his belief.
The absolute hierarchy of the Wolf Clan.
Ron lit a cigarette and smiled faintly.
"You rose from weakness step by step."
"Then you should also know—
under absolute rule,
the oppressed will eventually rise up."
"Just like now."
"Snow Emperor led the White Tiger Clan into the Nether World
and ultimately sealed you away."
The Nether King remained calm and sighed softly.
"That is the law of the universe."
"The strong must rule the weak.
Only then can the world progress."
As he spoke, a trace of killing intent crept into his tone:
"And that Snow Emperor you mentioned—"
"She preaches love and morality,
claiming that love can create everything,
that nothing is impossible in a world of love."
"But what did she actually do?"
"She promised not to enter the Nether World—
yet when her subordinates did, she didn't stop them."
"They slaughtered Nether soldiers freely."
"If that is love,"
"then my rule was never wrong."
The tavern fell silent.
Three words surfaced in everyone's mind:
Hypocritical saint.
Ron shook his head with a smile.
If the Nether King was self-made—
someone who understood that the world was inherently ruled by survival of the fittest—
Then Snow Emperor was born into power,
living off ideals, dreams, and hollow rhetoric.
Perhaps that was the difference.
In truth—
Using overwhelming force to push the world forward while minimizing error
wasn't inherently wrong.
The Nether King's approach was absolute, yes,
but directionally sound.
Only the words "conquest" and "domination"
made those who claimed moral superiority uncomfortable.
Or perhaps—
Neither was wrong.
Protection and conquest both sought the same endpoint: peace.
The Nether King drained the bottle and continued:
"Snow Emperor's love can create everything—
and destroy everything."
"When love protects sheep from wolves,
that same love becomes destruction for wolves."
"Because they starve to death."
"The world works the same way."
"Either the wolves starve,
or the weak sheep are devoured."
"It is precisely because the world is so cruel
that it is beautiful."
As his words fell—
Gray Wolf crawled out from under the table, eyes red, and walked toward the Nether King.
Even Aizen's attempt to stop him was silenced by a single glare.
Before everyone's eyes—
Gray Wolf wrapped his arms around the Nether King from behind and burst into tears.
"Waaah—!"
"After all these years,
someone finally spoke the truth!"
"Wolves being eaten by sheep—
what's wrong with that?!"
Aizen slapped his own face.
Smack.
That was it.
No one could save Gray Wolf now.
Of all people—
why hug him?!
When the Nether King entered,
even Aizen had struggled to breathe under that pressure.
And yet—
Something completely unexpected happened.
The Nether King glanced at Gray Wolf,
then simply placed a hand on his head and said in a weathered voice:
"I understand you."
"You and I are both wolves—
feared and rejected because of our bloodthirsty nature."
"I once sought ways to coexist peacefully with other races."
"But reality proved me wrong."
"That instinct—
it is who we are. It is natural."
Gray Wolf released him, collapsed onto the stool beside him, and nodded hard.
"I will!"
These past few days, he hadn't needed to hunt sheep.
There was always food.
But something felt… missing.
And today, the Nether King had awakened it.
The wildness of a wolf.
The instinct to hunt with blood and fang.
From now on—
Once the tavern closed for the day,
he would return to the grasslands and hunt again.
No shortcuts.
At that moment, the previously silent Kasha finally raised her gaze and spoke calmly:
"You've said all this."
"But your so-called rule is just
war after war after war—"
"followed by meaningless arms races."
"So tell me."
"What meaning does domination ultimately have?"
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