The Monster is Coming

Chapter 476 The Shadow of the Past Remains
The world was silent, save for the clang of swords.

Tu Hu stood on the scorched earth, his white hair as white as snow, the golden greatsword in his hand humming, as if countless heroic souls were uttering an indomitable roar that transcended a thousand years.

The sudden reversal plunged the battlefield into a deathly silence.

Xing Tong leaned on her psionic longsword, breathing heavily, her crystalline purple eyes wide with disbelief and shock.

She stared at the white-haired figure's retreating back, her mind blank.

This ancestor, whom she had known since childhood, was an elder in her eyes who was plagued by a hidden ailment for many years and needed to use specially supplied alcohol to relieve the pain. He was more of a silent guardian of civilization and a living history... but at this moment, he displayed a power that was like that of a god.

She recalled the helplessness of her ancestors in the face of their ancestor's injuries, and the numerous test reports that were incomprehensible and beyond human comprehension.

Only now did she realize just how terrifying her ancestor truly was.

The surrounding soldiers stood frozen in place.

Looking at the golden light that effortlessly obliterated the spirit-devouring creature, and the ancestor who seemed to make even the world itself retreat, the shock in his heart was beyond measure.

Tu Hu paid no attention to the gazes of his tribesmen.

His entire being was one with the sword in his hand.

He slowly raised the sword, pointing it at the formless and intangible world itself.

The liquidation is not yet over.

Soon, the Soul-Eating Tide surged again, even more turbulent than before. The gray-white torrent blotted out the sky and formed a huge shadow like a mountain range. This was the manifestation of the world's will pouring more power of rules into it.

Faced with this destructive torrent that could eclipse the heavens and earth, Tu Hu simply raised his sword calmly.

The sword tip was gently extended forward.

Zheng!
A fine, condensed golden line extended from the tip of the sword.

Where the thin thread passes, space is silently cut open.

The surging torrent of spirit-corroding energy seemed to be wiped off the painting and vanished into nothingness the moment it touched the golden thread.

Whether it was the overwhelming low-level corrosive spirits or the terrifying mountain shadows, they all vanished like bubbles.

With a single sword stroke, the world is cleared.

The will of the world can change the rules, but Tu Hu's sword strike was itself a rule.

The rules of heaven and earth within the area covered by his protective aura are all governed by his will.

Tu Hu's gaze pierced through the void and landed on the invisible energy veins on the ground.

That is the nerve of the world's will, and also the network through which it perceives and controls the world.

He swung his sword again, aiming directly at the nearest network node.

The sword light, like the strokes of a brush, pointed deep into the earth.

A key node in the energy network that runs through the world was swept away by the will of the rules contained in this sword, and returned to calm.

The tiger-slaying did not stop.

Knowing that this was only a temporary interruption to the world's offensive, and that the crisis would eventually reappear if it was not completely eradicated.

With one step, he crossed the scorched earth outside the city.

Before long, they appeared at the northern glacier.

This is one of the convergence points of the world's extreme cold power. A thick, icy blue energy vein lies dormant beneath the glacier like a giant dragon, radiating a bone-chilling cold, and is attempting to generate a corrosive spirit to fight against it.

Tu Hu didn't even glance at the approaching eroding spirits, casually slashing downwards with his golden greatsword.

The icy blue energy dragon instantly subsided, becoming indistinguishable from its surroundings.

The newly formed Shadow of Corruption also dissipated.

After severing the key points, Tu Hu turned and left.

He reappeared in the western desert.

Here, yellow sand fills the sky, and a yellowish-brown energy vein, like an earth dragon turning over, stirs up the entire desert, attempting to trigger a devastating sandstorm to purify it all.

A flash of golden sword light streaked past.

The surging sea of ​​sand suddenly calmed down, and the restless, earthy-yellow veins shattered and sank deep into the earth, leaving no trace.

Then came the southern forests, the eastern archipelago, the central mountains... Tu Hu's figure flashed across the world, each appearance accompanied by a light, understated sword light.

Wherever the sword light reached, even the world's will, possessing the power of evolution, was unable to generate a corresponding defense system.

This is the power of rules from a higher dimension, which has surpassed the limits that the world's will can analyze.

As the neural pathways of the world's will are constantly severed, its control over reality is rapidly stripped away.

The filth in the sky completely dissipated, and all the strange phenomena that defied common sense on the earth disappeared, leaving only the devastation after the war.

As Tu Hu stood atop the clouds, his white hair fluttering, he looked down upon the world that was gradually returning to peace.

He could feel the omnipresent anger and resentment of the world's will; at this moment, it was like a giant whose limbs had been severed and whose eyes had been covered.

The liquidation is nearing its end.

When he swung his sword again.

In an instant, from the snowy plains of the north to the forests of the south, from the desolate deserts of the west to the aurora-lit coast, all the unusual celestial phenomena came to an abrupt halt.

Rivers that once flowed backward have returned to their channels, liquefied mountains have solidified again to reveal their hard outlines, decaying vegetation has grown naturally again, and sunlight pierces through the long-standing haze, spreading like a golden veil over the scarred landscape.

The mournful cries echoing between heaven and earth are the lamentations of the world's will.

Like a giant beast stripped of its fangs, it can no longer exert any forceful interference in reality; its tentacles reaching out to the world have been completely severed.

The spirits no longer appeared out of thin air, and the remaining ones all dissipated.

Tu Hu stood with his sword in hand, his gaze sweeping across the ravaged land before finally looking into the depths of the earth.

The gaze seemed to pierce through layers of space, revealing the formless and intangible consciousness itself, which enveloped the entire world: a golden sphere of light.

The guardian sword in his hand became even more dazzling, radiating the brilliant light of civilization.

At this moment, Tu Hu had grasped the realm that Cang Xuan had once described: protection is not about cowering, but also about severing calamities with a sharp blade.

When the will to protect burns fiercely to its extreme, it can transform into an invincible blade that sweeps across the universe and cuts through shackles.

At that moment, Tu Hu swung his sword, and a golden line instantly plunged vertically into the earth.

Immediately following, starting from where the golden thread disappeared, a bottomless dark rift spread downwards.

Rock layers, lava belts, ancient crustal structures... the solid earth formed over countless years was smoothly cleaved in two by the sword mark, like a hot knife cutting into grease, revealing the earth's core space beneath, a space that had never seen the sun and was so dark it could devour all light.

Thus, a dark abyss leading straight to the Earth's core was formed.

Tu Hu sheathed his sword and flew straight towards the end of the abyss.

There, a violently pulsating golden sphere was emitting intense fluctuations.

It is the core of the world's will, the endpoint where countless threads converge, and the final source that he needs to cleanse.

At this moment, the world's will, having lost all its "tentacles," was completely powerless to resist and exposed to the tiger-slaying sword.

Tu Hu raised the golden greatsword in his hand high.

On the blade, the will and memories of countless generations of Rongling people flow and burn like a galaxy: Alan's decisiveness, Afen's gentleness, Liezhua's entrustment, Jingsi's wisdom, Tiexin's tenacity, and Xingtong's expectation.

This sword carries the entire weight of an entire civilization.

"cut."

A soft shout resounded throughout the heavens and earth.

The golden greatsword transformed into a pure beam of light, piercing through the earth and striking precisely the pulsating golden sphere deep within its core.

The golden sphere melted and disintegrated the instant it was touched by the beam of light, just as ice and snow melted and disintegrated upon contact with the sun.

The various implications contained therein were completely washed away by the grander meaning of "the continuation of civilization".

In the end, the sphere of light dissipated, leaving behind only a gentle, unfettered essence of the world.

It floats quietly, radiating a soft golden light, like a newborn heart, representing the most primal, neutral life force in this world.

Tu Hu reached out and grasped, and the origin of the world appeared in his palm.

Feeling the immense energy within, he turned back at that moment and returned to the surface of the earth in a few breaths.

A single step can traverse mountains and rivers.

The surviving members of his clan had already begun the city restoration project when he severed his meridians.

When they saw Tu Hu's figure reappear on the city wall, everyone understood: the war was over.

Xing Tong staggered forward, looking at Tu Hu's much older face and snow-white hair, her voice choked with emotion:

"Ancestor...your hair."

Tu Hu looked down at his falling white hair and calmly shook his head.

He opened his palm, presenting the primordial essence of the world to all the survivors, his voice clearly resounding throughout the city:

"The catastrophe is over, we have won."

"What I hold in my hands is the origin of the world, the source of yesterday's calamities, and the foundation for future rebirth."

His gaze swept over the weary and sorrowful faces, and he slowly pushed the origin of the world toward Xing Tong, who stood before him:

"From this day forward, our people need no longer rely on the breath of divine punishment, nor fear the might of heaven and earth."

"The land beneath our feet and the sky above our heads shall be reshaped by our own people."

After speaking, Tu Hu stood alone on the city wall, his white hair fluttering in the breeze, the protective sword in his hand already hidden.

The origin of the world radiated a warm light in Xing Tong's hands, like a newborn hope.

However, just as all the tribesmen were immersed in the complex emotions of surviving the calamity, the figure standing on the city wall swayed slightly. Tu Hu looked down at his palm, which was gradually becoming transparent, his face showing no surprise, only a faint sense of relief.

Burning everything and achieving ultimate sublimation inevitably comes at a price.

He could feel that the abnormal stagnation that had sustained him for so long was rapidly fading away, and the life force of his body was being exhausted.

He slowly sat down, leaning against the ruined city wall, his movements gentle.

Xing Tong was the first to notice something was wrong; she almost dropped the Origin of the World in her hand, her voice trembling uncontrollably:
"Ancestor..."

Tu Hu raised his head, looking down at the reviving land below, his gaze sweeping over familiar and unfamiliar faces, his expression gentle.

The gaze finally focused on Xing Tong.

His figure grew fainter and fainter, like the thin mist about to dissipate in the morning light.

With his last breath, he spoke softly, as if uttering a simple, ordinary request:
"Xiao Tong, it seems our ancestor has reached the end of his life... The future of the Rongling Clan... is now in your hands."

In his final moments, Tu Hu slumped against a corner of the city wall, his gaze fixed on the boundless sky:

"The Dream Weaver Civilization has records... Beyond the heavens... is not a paradise."

"This crisis has taught me that we should not follow in the footsteps of Dreamweaver... We should not embark on that... road of no return."

"To take root, to flourish, to continue in this world... this is the best tribute to me."

As soon as he finished speaking, Tu Hu's weathered figure transformed into countless tiny points of light, like sparks rising against the current, slowly ascending and eventually dissipating into the clear sky of Flying Leap City, merging with the sunlight and disappearing without a trace.

Time seemed to freeze.

Xing Tong stared blankly at the empty city wall, completely unaware that the Origin of the World in her hand had fallen to her feet with a "thud".

The next moment, overwhelming grief washed over her like a tidal wave. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to her knees, letting out a heart-wrenching cry of despair.
"Ancestor!!!"

That cry was like lighting a fuse.

On and off the city walls, in the wilderness, regardless of status or injury, all the Rongling people knelt down in unison at this moment.

The cries of anguish swept across the land like a tsunami.

They lost their ancestor, who had protected them throughout their lives, shielded them from every desperate situation, and ultimately helped them slay divine punishment and reclaim their future.

Our ancestors witnessed the beginning of the Rongling civilization, protected its progress, and at its turning point, they sacrificed themselves for its continuation, thus creating a future that no longer needed to be "protected."

Everyone was immersed in immense grief.

Xing Tong knelt on the cold city bricks, tears blurring her vision.

She gazed at the spot where Tu Hu had disappeared, and the image that always appeared in her mind was that of a man holding a wine bottle, silently looking into the distance.

"A bent spine can be straightened again, but once the flame is extinguished, everything is gone."

"Our ancestors are still alive, what are you afraid of?"

"Our ancestor wasn't in a daze, he just lived too long. His memories are like an endless photo album, he can never finish looking at them."

"Xiao Tong, work hard and lead the Rongling civilization to a more glorious tomorrow when you grow up."

“You’ve only fallen a few times, and you’re already calling it a setback… As long as our ancestors are here, the Rongling civilization will continue to exist.”

Every word felt like a hammer blow to her heart, and Xing Tong's tears flowed uncontrollably.

All the Rongling people realized at that moment that they had lost the roots of their civilization.

The figure that raised the battle flag on the verge of annihilation.

That figure who silently accumulated the seeds of revolution during the years of enslavement.

The guardian who cut a path to their survival at the last moment... will never again stand atop the city wall, holding a wine bottle and gazing into the distance.

The five words "Our ancestors are still here" are the greatest source of confidence for the Rongling civilization.

Xing Tong's body trembled, and she murmured in a hoarse voice:

"Grandfather, you're so tired. Now... you can finally rest."

Then, facing the spot where Tu Hu had disappeared, he slammed his head heavily against the ground.

A gentle breeze swept across the empty city walls and over all the kneeling Rongling people.

An era has come to an end with the passing of our ancestors.

The breeze was still gentle, the sun was still shining, and the reconstruction project of Flying City began amidst the roar of engines.

But everyone felt that something had changed forever.

The city is familiar, but I can no longer find that reassuring figure.

Xing Tong felt she had to pull herself together because she was the leader, and the ancestors had entrusted the future to her.

But whenever she looked around, she saw faces filled with the same bewilderment and helplessness.

An unprecedented sense of emptiness overwhelmed the hearts of every Rongling person.

They won the most brutal war, defeated the world itself, and reclaimed their right to survival.

But they lost the pillar of the clan that always turned the tide in desperate situations.

It's like a group of children who have been suddenly let go, standing in an empty field, needing to rely entirely on themselves for the first time to decide the direction to move forward.

A brand new page has been turned in the long scroll of history.

On this page, however, there is no familiar Watchman to guide us.

The road ahead can only be explored by themselves, step by step.

This is an era that truly belongs to the Rongling people, an era in which they must learn to face all the storms alone.

……

Seven days later.

The ruins in the center of Flyover City have been cleared away, and a huge statue has risen from the ruins.

The statue depicts Tu Hu, but not in his final, white-haired state; rather, it shows the most familiar posture in the memories of all Rongling tribe members.

With her black hair flowing down her shoulders, her gaze fixed on the distance. She didn't hold the awe-inspiring golden greatsword in her hand, but simply carried a wine jug, a faint smile playing on her lips.

The statue stood silently, as if it might turn around at any moment and say something to the tribespeople who came to its side:
"coming".

On the base of the statue, there are no lengthy inscriptions praising achievements, only a few words carved by Xing Tong himself:

The light of the Rongling civilization will burn eternally.

Every morning thereafter, as the rising sun illuminates the statue's shoulders, people spontaneously come to the statue.

Stand quietly for a while beside the statue of our ancestors, and place a bouquet of newly blooming flowers or a pot of newly brewed fruit wine.

The children will be told that this is the ancestor of the Rongling people, and that he brought us the freedom to run around today.

Although the younger generation did not personally experience the era when their ancestors were still alive, they feel a sense of inexplicable peace when looking up at the statues.

Xing Tong placed the wine jug left by Tu Hu alongside the marks of the first generation of leaders.

When Leap City and Memory City were rebuilt, the largest square in the city center was named "Watchtower Square," and the statue of Tu Hu stood in the center of the square, forever gazing at the future of civilization he had protected throughout his life.

Every year on the day Tu Hu departs, the entire Rongling civilization falls into silence.

All the tribespeople would spontaneously stop what they were doing, look in the direction of the statue, and offer their highest respect.

Our ancestor has passed away.

But his people felt that he had never left.

They simply transformed into the wind blowing across the city walls, into the sunlight falling on the earth, into the upright spine of every Rongling person, and into the undying will for the Rongling civilization to continue moving forward.

As Xing Tong said at the memorial service:

"From now on, we are the continuation of our ancestors' spirit, watching over this prosperous era and continuing to protect this hard-won peace."

Thus, the story of slaying the tiger became the spiritual core of the Rongling civilization.

It is ingrained in our blood and passed down from generation to generation.

……

Endless darkness.

[Challenger's Notice: You have died. Resurrection countdown begins: 59.59 minutes.]

The cold, discreet voice echoed in Tu Hu's mind like a verdict.

What followed was a sense of detachment.

Alan's roar in the firelight, Afen's smile as she handed over the fruit wine, Liezhao's silent entrustment, Xingtong's heart-wrenching cries... all those fervent emotional bonds that constituted Rongling's memories were forcibly ripped away by an invisible force.

The memory hasn't disappeared, but it's like a painting fading rapidly, becoming pale and flat.

Gradually, it could no longer stir even the slightest ripple in his heart.

He was like an outsider, flipping through his own past stories, knowing their joys and sorrows, but unable to empathize with them from the perspective of the person in question.

“Give it back to me…!”

Tu Hu's consciousness roared silently in the void, frantically fighting against this oblivion that was more cruel than death.

This means that everything he protected and burned for will lose its meaning.

But his struggles were like stones sinking into the sea; the loss of his emotions could not be stopped.

Just when he thought the precious memories were about to fade completely and become cold images.

A familiar voice, tinged with a hint of languor, echoed deep within his consciousness:

That's true, it's a real shame to lose it like that.

　End of fifth update~
　　
　
(End of this chapter)