Conqueror of the Time Apocalypse

Chapter 2: The First Footprints of Fate: The Theft of the Holy Relic

“Hey, you up there! Get down here right now and put your hands up!”

Maxwell glanced down from atop the giant carcass of The Graveyard Guard, which was still billowing black smoke. Below, a group of men in tactical uniforms aimed long-barreled weapons at him. In the middle of them stood a slick-haired blonde youth wearing light silver armor, which he seemed to have acquired from somewhere unknown.

“Did you hear me? Get down here! You just stole points from the Emergency Task Force’s main target!” the blonde youth shouted again, his voice arrogant.

“Your main target? This creature had already slaughtered five hundred people before you arrived, Leon,” Maxwell retorted coldly as he jumped down with surprising lightness, landing right in front of the soldiers' gun barrels.

The blonde youth named Leon flinched, his eyes wide. “How do you know my name, Commoner?”

“Your name isn’t important enough for me to remember, but your arrogant face is easily recognizable as a coward who will run first when the Level Two Gate opens later,” Maxwell said, walking past them as if the muzzles of their guns were just plastic toys.

“Insolent! Stop or we’ll shoot!” Captain Yanuar, the leader of the tactical squad, shouted, cocking his weapon.

“Go ahead and shoot if you want to waste ammunition that will be very precious in five minutes. But remember, every bullet fired means one of your men will lose their life when the second wave of Scavenger Dogs comes from behind you,” Maxwell said without stopping his advance.

“Don’t bluff! Our radar is clear!” Yanuar argued.

The moment he finished the sentence, deafening howls echoed from the narrow alleys behind the squad. Dozens of pairs of red eyes began to appear from the darkness.

“Damn it! Rotate positions! Protect Young Master Leon! Shoot! Shoot now!”

Maxwell ignored the chaos and the whizzing sound of bullets behind him. His objective was the National Museum, located two hundred meters from his current position. There, hidden behind historical artifacts deemed fake by the world, lay the Ancient Sovereignty Ring—a Mythical-class relic that, in the past, had been contested by seven major nations.

*Absolute Knowledge, how much time is left before the seal on the museum's underground corridor completely collapses?* Maxwell asked in his mind.

*Two minutes thirty seconds. The apocalypse system will perform data synchronization on the artifact at precisely the one hundred-fiftieth second. It is suggested to enter through the west side air ventilation to avoid the automated guards that have just activated,* a mechanical voice in Maxwell's head answered with precision.

Maxwell ran, his speed surpassing any Olympic athlete. His body, accustomed to the gravitational pressure of a hell planet for one hundred years, moved with terrifying efficiency. He climbed the exterior wall of the museum, entered through a small ventilation shaft, and landed in the pitch-black underground storage room.

“It’s dark, isn't it? Absolute Knowledge, activate night vision,” Maxwell whispered.

His vision immediately changed to bright neon green. He saw rows of old wooden chests. He walked straight toward a stone chest hidden behind a false wall.

“Destroy the seal with a low-frequency vibration at point 0.4,” Maxwell murmured, striking his palm against a specific corner of the stone chest.

*Crack!* The chest cracked open, revealing a simple bronze ring with a red gem pulsating as if it had a heart.

“Who's there? That's a state asset! Put it down now!” a heavy voice echoed in the room.

A large, tall man with a giant axe on his back emerged from the shadows. This was a figure known as The Destroyer, one of the future generals famous for his cruelty. At this moment, however, he still looked like a high-class mercenary.

“You arrived too quickly, Johan. But unfortunately, this item has already been claimed by destiny,” Maxwell said as he took the ring.

“Destiny? Don't talk philosophy in front of me, Kid. Give me the ring or I'll split your head in two!” Johan pulled out his giant axe, a strong killing aura emanating from his body.

“You just awakened your Mana Core ability ten minutes ago, didn't you? It's still very rough and unstable. Do you think you can win against someone who already knows every move you're going to make?” Maxwell put the ring on his middle finger.

Suddenly, red energy erupted from Maxwell's hand. Information flooded his mind.

ANCIENT SOVEREIGNTY RING SYNCHRONIZATION: 100%

ABSOLUTE LEADERSHIP ACTIVATED

STATISTICAL BONUS: STRENGTH +50, INTELLIGENCE +100

SPECIAL ABILITY: MENTAL DOMINATION OVER LOW-LEVEL CREATURES

“Too much talk! Die!” Johan lunged forward, swinging his axe with enough force to tear through a steel tank.

Maxwell didn't dodge far. He simply pivoted on his heel, causing the axe swing to pass him by a hair's breadth. With a single flick of his index finger, Maxwell touched Johan's wrist.

“Pressing the axillary nerve in three, two, one,” Maxwell whispered.

Johan's hand suddenly went numb. His huge axe slipped from his grasp and crashed to the concrete floor, shattering it.

“What? What did you do? Why can't I move my hand?!” Johan screamed, his face filled with panic.

“I merely cut off your energy flow for a moment. You have potential, Johan. In another timeline, you were a loyal dog to the elites. But here, if you want to live, bow down to me,” Maxwell said, his voice now containing an authority that made Johan unconsciously kneel.

“You... what kind of magic did you use? What kind of power is this?” Johan trembled, cold sweat soaking his large body.

“This isn't magic. This is knowledge of your pathetic weakness,” Maxwell replied, looking toward the entrance of the underground chamber.

The sound of many footsteps could be heard. Leon, the blonde youth from earlier, entered with a full squad of soldiers.

“There he is! Catch that thief! And secure the treasure he's holding!” Leon pointed at Maxwell with a finger trembling from rage.

“Young Master, he took down Johan with just one finger! We must be cautious!” one of Leon's aides whispered.

“I don’t care! We have weapons! Shoot him in the leg! Don’t let him run!” Leon commanded madly.

The soldiers hesitated for a moment, seeing Johan still kneeling helplessly, but a superior's order was absolute to them. As they were about to pull their triggers, Maxwell raised his hand, wearing the Sovereignty Ring.

“In the name of the sovereign holder, be silent,” Maxwell commanded.

A wave of transparent energy radiated from the ring. Instantly, all the soldiers froze in place. Not from freezing magic, but from an instinctive fear—as if they had just seen an apex predator capable of devouring their souls with just one look.

“Why did you stop?! Shoot! Why are you just standing there like statues?!” Leon screamed hysterically, his face red with shame and fear.

Maxwell walked toward Leon. Every step sounded like a death knell in the ears of the spoiled youth.

“You want this treasure, Leon? This ring demands its owner possesses the soul of a king. As for you... you aren't even worthy of cleaning my shoes in this new world,” Maxwell said, right in front of Leon's face.

Maxwell snatched the silver dagger from Leon's waist as fast as lightning, then with an artistic flourish, he slashed the symbol of honor on Leon's uniform shoulder.

“Aakh! How dare you touch me!”

“Be quiet. You’re too noisy,” Maxwell backhanded Leon across the face. *Slap!*

Leon stumbled back, the corner of his lip split open. He cried like a child, far from the heroic impression he often boasted about in his fantasies.

"Johan, stand up," Maxwell commanded the large man who was still kneeling.

Johan felt his strength return abruptly. He stood awkwardly, staring at Maxwell with a look now filled with fear and an unexplainable awe.

"What is your name, Sir?" Johan asked, his voice rough.

"Maxwell Sullivan. Remember that name well, because it's the last name the world will remember before everything is razed to the ground," Maxwell replied flatly.

"What should I do now?" Johan asked, as if he had already officially become Maxwell's subordinate.

"Take this spoiled brat and his troops outside. Let them face the wave of monsters coming from the eastern side for practice. Don't help them unless they're near death. I have other business upstairs," Maxwell said as he walked away, leaving the underground room.

"Wait! You aren't taking the remaining items here? There's a golden sword and a manite-plated shield!" Johan yelled.

"Trash. Those items will only slow you down. Everything valuable is already in my hands," Maxwell retorted without turning around.

*Absolute Knowledge, direct me to Viana Enderson's coordinates now. Has she reached the false evacuation point her father prepared for her?* Maxwell thought to himself.

*Subject Viana Enderson detected in Block C-4, 1.2 kilometers from here. Her car is trapped in a horde of Wraith-type monsters. Her survival percentage has dropped to fifteen percent over the next ten minutes,* the system voice replied.

"Fifteen percent, huh? Not bad for someone on the verge of death. But I can't let my best faction manager disappear like this at the very start of the game," Maxwell muttered.

He exited the museum building, greeted by a deepening red sky and a drizzle of blood rain beginning to fall. In the distance, explosions erupted as larger dimensional gates materialized.

"This apocalypse has only just begun, and you're all still toying with petty power," Maxwell said, looking out at the city transforming into a living hell.

Maxwell took a deep breath. The oxygen, now contaminated with pure mana, felt refreshing to his cells, which thirsted for strength. He knew the location of every relic, every traitor, and every black hole destined to swallow Earth.

"First target secured. Time to retrieve the second piece for my chessboard," Maxwell murmured before vanishing into the crowd of monsters, calmly leaving the panic behind him.

He moved straight toward Block C-4. The ring on his finger pulsed continuously, collecting mana from the chaotic atmosphere, giving him seemingly limitless power to execute his first mission. To his eyes, this world map was merely an instruction manual he had memorized completely. Not a single variable escaped his calculations, and he would ensure that history this time would be written in his own ink.

"Prepare yourself, Viana. Your true master is coming to collect you," Maxwell whispered quietly, yet his voice carried on the apocalyptic wind to every corner of the city.

A brief silence fell before the sound of monster screams broke the stillness once more, accompanying the steps of the King who showed not a hint of doubt in his first move to con

quer the destiny that had once destroyed him. Maxwell Sullivan had returned, and this time, not even the gods could stop his advance.