The Demon King is unfathomable

Chapter 463 The Mad Rat's Rebellion!

In the deep, dark forest, all sounds have fallen silent.

A giant sword, as tall as a man, had pierced through the chest of "Longbowman" Rhys, pinning him firmly to an ancient oak tree.

Blood flowed down the lines of the sword and the tree trunk, pooling on the ground.

Just minutes ago, the battle was quite intense.

As Rhys moved through the jungle, he continuously fired arrows imbued with chaotic energy, attempting to use the terrain and distance to wear down the so-called Rock Sword Saint.

However, reality is cruel. Even though he tried his best, he still could not overcome the "thoughts of the masses" formed by the righteous thoughts in the hearts of thousands of people.

He couldn't even leave a single wound on the sword saint...

A mouthful of blood gushed from Rhys's mouth.

He reached out his trembling hand and grasped the unyielding blade, as steadfast as a mountain, smearing it with his already blackening blood.

"Even as a ghost... I will never let you go..."

He used all his strength to utter this vicious curse, staring intently at Gaunt's face, until finally the light in his pupils faded away in boundless resentment.

Gunter's expression remained unchanged.

He simply stared calmly at those gradually unfocused pupils, then withdrew his greatsword, sending away yet another soul that had lost itself in malice.

From a martial artist's perspective, Urgos's Chosen One seems to be considerably weaker than Karmandes's.

Although this guy broke through to the Amethyst level during the battle, the sense of oppression he brought was far less than that of the ogre he had seen outside the Bronze Pass.

As a diamond-level chosen one of the "Flame of Destruction," that guy at least managed to injure him in the fight.

Perhaps this is also related to Urgos's "preference" for a motley crew.

However, Gaunt did not let his guard down because of the victory in the duel, after all, the tragedy that had occurred in the southern part of Griffin Cliff was still fresh in his mind.

The chosen ones of Urgos are not necessarily the strongest, but they are often capable of causing earth-shattering disasters.

Once things reach that point, even a demigod would find it troublesome...

Establishing order is a long process.

But destroying it is all too easy.

Rhys's body slid silently to the ground. Gaunt shook the blood off his sword and slung it back over his shoulder.

He raised his head and looked at the increasingly deep sky in the distance, his brows furrowing slightly.

Something's not quite right.

Several Chosen Ones of Chaos have died at his hands. If this were in Bronze Pass, even the most fanatical ogre tribe would have to call a retreat.

However, things are different here. The corrupting influence of chaos has not weakened; on the contrary, it has become stronger and stronger...

……

Dusk outside the city.

Thick, dark clouds covered the entire sky, like a heavy curtain, cutting off all light and hope.

Amidst the slowly swirling black clouds, a bottomless vortex faced the spire of the Twilight City Church, its deep blackness resembling the pupil of chaos.

Below Him stretched a churning, dark gray ocean. Countless enormous rats wriggled their fat bodies, endlessly devouring to complete a grand sacrifice to please Urgos.

On the city wall, Governor Baron Ellaric's face was deathly pale as he gazed at the sea of ​​flesh outside the city, his lips trembling.

The knight standing beside him swallowed hard and squeezed out a sentence from his dry throat.

"What...is this thing?"

No one could answer him.

This was the first time Ellarik had ever witnessed such a blasphemous scene; it felt as if the end of the world had befallen him.

“Governor…” a young soldier looked at him and asked in a trembling voice, “What… should we do?”

Ellaric didn't turn around, his eyes still fixed on the writhing ocean outside the city, and he spoke in a hoarse voice.

"Hold the walls...until the very last moment."

He didn't know if reinforcements would arrive, nor how much longer he could hold out.

But he knew he was the governor of the city, a baron appointed by His Majesty, the son of Saint Sis, and the last bulwark for the millions of soldiers and civilians in the city.

People on the city wall were filled with fear and unease.

Many soldiers had been fighting bloody battles for several days, and their spirits were already on the verge of collapse.

After witnessing this horrific scene, even the most resolute people couldn't help but reveal an unconcealable despair on their faces.

Despair wasn't just felt on the city walls; it was felt below them as well.

If nobles had to go through a legal process to kill someone based on the other person's status, then those green-turbaned men could kill purely based on their own judgment.

A city with a population of one million would need at least 100,000 deaths to be enough.

In the cathedral of Twilight City, Count Theron Gard knelt before the statue of God, his face filled with repentance, but even more so with fear and despair.

“By Saint Sith… please forgive my sins, I… I mistook the saint you sent for a witch, it was my ignorance and arrogance that ruined me.”

He regretted both his indulgence in pleasure and complacency, which had squandered his extraordinary talent, and his failure to flee further before the flood came.

Unlike Kaylan, who believed himself to be the embodiment of justice until his death, Theron was somewhat more honest when facing death, at least admitting his own stupidity and arrogance.

Even so, it is still difficult to judge whether a coward or a madman is more noble; one can only say that the latter is more dangerous to innocent people.

While Theron Gard was gripped by fear and unease, a similarly heated argument was erupting in a hotel on the outskirts of the city.

Leon, a magic apprentice from the Academy, grabbed Skelle's shoulder, looked at this so-called king's right-hand man, and let out a hoarse roar.

"Look! Look outside! What did I say before? Are you still going to tell me that even this doesn't prove that the corruption of chaos exists on this land!"

At first, he wanted to try to create some "evidence" to attract the attention of the King of the Kingdom of Ryan, but now it seems unnecessary.

The prophecy of the great sage has come true once again.

People are always arrogant and don't take that great man's wisdom seriously, and the result is that tragedy is repeated time and time again.

"enough!"

Unable to bear the question any longer, the court steward, Skeller, finally roared and shoved away the magic apprentice who was grabbing his shoulder.

He stared intently at that feverish face, venting all his anger and fear on this so-called great sage's disciple.

"Since he knows everything, why isn't he here! Answer me! Does the Empire keep him just so he can sit atop the mage tower and watch the world gloat?"

Leon stared at him, his eyes wide, his face slightly pale, wanting to explain but unsure how to answer.

That was indeed a question that caught him off guard.

To be honest, what puzzled him along the way was not only the king's indifference, but also why the great sage had entrusted him with this task.

Even if he didn't want to get involved here, it would probably be much more useful for him to go to the king's palace in person than to send someone here to deliver a message.

why?
"This... is ultimately your problem," his Adam's apple bobbed, and he finally managed to squeeze out a hasty, perfunctory reply, his eyes darting away as he looked to the side, "We... have already warned you."

After a long silence, Skelle gave a bitter smile and said...

"Okay, thank you."

He knew perfectly well that he had no right to blame others, after all, he was also one of those who comforted himself.

His despair wasn't entirely due to the Great Sage, but rather to his own king... why did that great man seem to be blind to it?

The Kingdom of Ryan has its own demigods and the renowned Lionheart Knights. They could wipe out these villains in no time, but at least they wouldn't make this battle so difficult.

His Majesty seems to be still waiting.

He could come up with many excuses for His Majesty, or give some "realistic" reasons, but now that he was about to die, he could no longer deceive himself.

He even suspected...

It's possible that even the esteemed His Majesty Theoden Devallo has been secretly targeted by the ever-present Chaos...

"..." Lyon deflated like a punctured balloon, his previous aggressiveness gone. He lowered his head in shame, not daring to look at the old butler.

Arguing about right and wrong is pointless now.

It seems that all they can do is pray, just as they have always done.

Perhaps that would slow down the spread of corrosion.

Or perhaps, let the chosen ones arrive sooner...

……

Just as despair permeated the city, in the heart of the rat horde outside, Silas was enjoying the most glorious moment of his life.

A blissful smile graced his face as he embraced the power descending from the sky and continuously flowing into his body with outstretched arms.

"Ah, this delicious aroma—"

"It's truly intoxicating..."

A sinister laugh escaped his lips, and his murky pupils had turned an extreme shade of green and black, like a demon from the abyss.

With both Kaylan and Rhys dead, he is now the only one left of the twelve leaders of the Green Forest Army.

Except for Brennan, that coward who deserted at the last minute, everyone else died on that blood-stained pilgrimage route.

If it were a normal rebel army, they would have scattered like birds and beasts long ago when they reached this dead end. However, the Green Forest Army was different; they were Urgos's servants.

Preparations for the sacrifice are now complete.

Although it's missing one, it's not a big deal.

Soon he will offer the entire city of Twilight as a sacrifice to complete the grandest offering he has prepared for Urgos, the "Claw of Eternal Hunger"!

at the same time--

That will also be his offering for ascending to godhood!

He will use the blood and flesh of the citizens of Twilight City to make up for the sacrifice lost because of Brennan's betrayal!

Perhaps sensing his piety, "that great one" not only cast an expectant glance his way but also sent alien souls to serve as his subordinates. These souls may not have come from a world with magic, but without exception, they all came from the most twisted hive.

They possessed the enormous rats that were twisted by the chaotic rituals, forming an endless army of "Chosen Ones"!
They gnawed on the flesh and blood of the sacrifice, making a teeth-grinding "crunch" sound, and gathered into a vast sea of ​​rats that could overwhelm any steel defense.

As the price for their expedition, they had only one request—

It's not that I'm full.

Instead, after the "Nest City" is built, their souls are allowed to reincarnate there to continue the entanglements of grudges from their previous lives.

Simply put, it's like you feed me a mouthful of shit, I trick you into drinking a mouthful of urine, and we'll switch identities in our next life and go through another round, doubling the rewards.

Until the nests of this world can no longer contain their distortions, or they physically collapse, they will "ascend" to the nests of another world to continue their new entanglements.

The territory of the "Claw of Eternal Hunger" is vast, and its will spans endless planes; there is always a child that suits its purpose.

Faced with the vast and boundless army of the Chosen Ones, Twilight City was like a lonely island in a storm, seemingly on the verge of being submerged by the tempest at any moment.

But at that moment, a dazzling beam of light suddenly appeared on the distant horizon, piercing through the boundless darkness.

Governor Eralik, standing atop the city wall, saw the beam of light, and a glimmer of hope suddenly rekindled on his despairing face.

It's reinforcements!
Although he didn't know why the reinforcements came from the north, he didn't care anymore, as long as they weren't from the Green Forest Army!

Silas's smile remained unchanged as he gazed at the distant horizon, a hint of pleasure appearing in his eerie pupils.

"Is it finally here?"

Günter Steingraber.

The Sword Saint of Huangtong Pass!

He had heard about this guy from the spies of the Carrion Clan a long time ago. Malachi, whom he had sent to develop Graystone Town, died at this guy's hands!
"Use your blood to test the divine power bestowed upon me by the great god Urgos!"

An overwhelming pressure swept in from the horizon!

Without hesitation, Silas stopped suppressing his aura and unleashed the power of a Grandmaster at its peak!
The two forces collided!
In the distance, Gaunt, standing among the Salvation Army, subtly changed his expression, his face revealing an unprecedented solemnity.

What a powerful aura!

The Chaos Chosen One hidden behind the vast sea of ​​rats has actually reached the peak of the Grandmaster level, just one step away from becoming a demigod!
The other party made no attempt to conceal anything; instead, they extended an invitation to a duel, inviting him into their "domain"...

Unlike the dark green abyss south of Griffin Cliff, this "swamp of flesh and blood" that now permeates outside Twilight City is significantly larger in both quality and quantity, by an order of magnitude!

A look of worry appeared on Karen's face.

Although she, as an ordinary person, could not feel the immense pressure, she could tell from Gunter's face that the opponent's strength was probably not to be underestimated.

and--

The swarm of rats in the distance was visible to the naked eye.

Even without seeing the expression on Gunter's face, she could directly feel the blood and death so close at hand!
"Is that Silas? Or Kael'thas?" Brennan's face was filled with astonishment, and his right hand, holding the Champion's Axe, trembled slightly.

He clearly remembered that those two were only Platinum level, how could they have become so strong in just a few months?!
Leiden didn't speak, but looked solemnly at the twilight city shrouded in dark clouds ahead, hoping they wouldn't be too late.

The only ones on the entire battlefield who didn't show any signs of distress were probably the old "ancestors" from Wheat Field Village.

The soul flames flickering within the skulls burned with anticipation, showing no sign of fear whatsoever, but rather an eagerness.

In the previous battles, I was just a bystander, either being overshadowed by the NPC Sword Saint or by the rockets from North Peak City.

This time it was finally their turn to show off their skills and put the swordsmanship they had learned from the Sword Saint into practice!

The gourd child: "My big knife is itching for a fight!"

Too handsome to sleep: "SKIP! SKIP!!!"

Lighter: "Awooo! Who dares to bite me!"

Just as the "Holy Spirits" were making a creaking noise, Gaunt, expressionless, drew his greatsword from his back and answered Brennan's bewildered whisper.

"...Whoever that person is, hand him over to me."

After saying that, he glanced at Karen not far away, and continued in a deep voice, "As for those rats... I'll leave them to you."

Karen nodded seriously, then turned her gaze to Brennan.

Seeing the saint looking at him, the Salvation Army's "Champion Warrior" immediately came to his senses and ordered his dwarf brothers, who were pushing the "Organ Rocket Launcher," to prepare.

Their ammunition reserves are probably insufficient to eliminate all the "Chosen Rats" outside the city, but they can at least alleviate some of the pressure.

"fire!!!"

At Brennan's command, the long line of pipe organ rocket launchers roared to life.

"Ugh——!"

The piercing sound of the air being torn apart was like the sound of the Grim Reaper's scythe being swung. Brilliant flames exploded in mid-air, and the oil ignited by the runes rained down scorching fire onto the ground!

The rats outside the city screamed at dusk.

Looking at the burning flames, many of the chosen rats were awakened to the deepest fears in their souls, even though they could hardly remember their previous reincarnations.

They seem to have experienced it once before, but not in this unfinished "nest city".

"grumble--!"

Meta let out a desperate scream. Having just been reincarnated into another world, he hadn't even had a chance to experience his new life as a rat before he was swallowed up by that boundless purgatory.

The flames scorched his fur, burning every inch of his rat skin.

He was in so much pain that tears streamed down his face, until he no longer had the strength to scream, and his three-meter-tall body was completely charred.

An invisible hand grabbed the back of his neck and carried his finally freed soul from the ground to the black vortex in the sky.

'No—I don't want to go there! Let me go back, I want to go back to where I was!' He struggled desperately to escape, but his soul was already bound to Urgos.

Without a moment's pause, he would soon be faced with another battlefield in another world, where perhaps a glimmer of hope would allow him to catch his breath.

But perhaps, it's just another hell.

And it's a real hell.

In any case, this can be considered retribution for selling addictive hallucinogenic drugs, although his sins go far beyond just selling snake oil.

The fighting on the battlefield continued, and the death of a rat was insignificant... even if it was a rat chosen by God.

At the same moment the rockets roared, the eager "players" launched their attack.

They squeaked and yelled, brandishing all sorts of weapons, and charged towards the vast swarm of rats.

However, they were still a bit slow.

Gunter's greatsword was always one step ahead, cutting into the enemy ranks before they could even touch a single hair on their heads!
"Blade—"

"storm!"

The whistling blade whipped up a hurricane on the flat ground, and the boundless sword shadows slashed in all directions, covering an arc with a radius of 100 meters!

Wherever the hurricane passed, whether it was soldiers or skeletons, they were all crushed into radish paste, like radishes caught in a meat grinder!

The chosen rats were either instantly cleaved into a bloody mist or swept into the sky by the sweeping sword energy, only to crash heavily back into the swarm of rats.

As the ratmen fell like rain, Gopal, the ratman, seemed to be reminded of his death from the fall, and a trace of fear appeared on his face.

However, he was, after all, the chosen rat of Urgos, and in the end, he mustered his courage and pushed the platinum-level strength that Urgos had bestowed upon him to its limit, roaring as he charged forward.

"grumble--!"

He called out.

Then, he was chopped into mincemeat with a single sword strike.

Rockets continued to whistle through the air, raining down fire upon the boundless sea of ​​rats, swallowing them up one by one.

As the howling storm of blades swept into the heart of the enemy ranks, the charging players finally clashed with the Chosen Rat Warriors, engaging in close combat!

The sounds of clashing weapons echoed across the battlefield, followed by the sounds of Salvation Army musketeers raising their guns and firing.

Although their military skills are far inferior to those of the Campbellians, who have been trained by successive demon kings, their firepower is in no way inferior to the latter.

There is no other reason.

It has absolutely nothing to do with faith.

The flintlock muskets produced in Beifeng City were all breech-loading designs, and used "smokeless gunpowder paper cartridges." Although they were also flintlock muskets, they were clearly not from the same era.

The Demon King didn't even bring out all his good stuff.

If hand-cranked rotary machine guns were issued to this group of Salvation Army soldiers, "Saint Karen" might be able to lead her followers to push beyond the Brass Pass!

Of course, we're not discussing extraordinary combat power here, as that's too difficult to compare horizontally and must be analyzed on a case-by-case basis.

Faced with the combined attack of the players and the Saviors, the Chosen Rats perished at a visible speed!

Ignoring the ugly minions, Gaunt's gaze was fixed on the figure behind the swarm of rats, and he swung his sword straight at him with the speed of the wind!
Silas's gaze was also fixed on Gaunt, while he completely ignored the rain of fire that filled the sky, considering it insignificant.

The distance between the two sides is less than one kilometer!

As the figure drew closer, a sharp glint flashed in Gaunt's eyes. He suddenly stopped the clamoring blade and raised his left hand to his brow.

field--

open!!!

In an instant, the sky changed color, reflecting the dim yellow of the dimensional desert!
An overwhelming pressure enveloped this vast battlefield, seemingly tearing spacetime apart and pulling it into another realm.

Centered on his feet, the earth, mixed with flesh and filth, began to crack and turn into sand—an endless sea of ​​sand was gradually swallowing this place!

Standing amidst the mountain of corpses and sea of ​​bones, Silas showed no fear upon seeing this, instead bursting into laughter, as if he had long anticipated that he would use this move.

"How ridiculous! In the boundless nest of our Lord, how many times do you think you can move your pitiful pile of sand here?"

His smile gradually turned into madness, his right hand clenched into a fist, and his fingertips pierced his palm.

A thick stream of black blood flowed down between his fingers and dripped onto the heads of the docile, crawling rats.

"you--"

"It's already in my territory!"

(End of this chapter)