Crossover Anime: I Became Invincible Starting as an Ajin

Chapter 152 The Struggle Between Despair and Imagination

Through the thin air stained with blood, the outline of the Saxewaman ruins appeared like a lurking beast against the distorted sky.

The massive, stepped stone wall, built with unimaginable craftsmanship, is no longer a historical monument, but rather an altar leading to the abyss.

On the stone wall, the originally solemn lines were covered by writhing dark red flesh and blood, as if the entire ruins were breathing and pulsating.

Above, crimson clouds formed a huge vortex several kilometers in diameter, slowly and oppressively rotating, like a cold, giant eye watching the earth.

At the center of the vortex, dark red energy, like lightning yet viscous like blood, continuously struck down, connecting with a focal point at the top of the ruins to form an evil bridge spanning heaven and earth.

The oppressive energy permeating the air was so heavy it was almost suffocating, mixed with the wails of billions of dead souls, the mad babbling, and a chilling gaze from a higher dimension.

"There's no time to waste here!"

Integula Helsing's resolute voice broke the chilling silence.

She stood on a boulder, her silver hair flying in the gale, her eyes sharp as an eagle's. "Wang Bai, Acado, you lead the elite squad to break through first!"

Our main force will draw and clear out these grunts as much as possible to clear the way for you! Walter, coordinate fire, Andrew's squad, apply pressure to the left flank!

Zhu Bai and Alucard exchanged a glance, and without saying a word, a temporary, tacit understanding of their shared absolute power was reached.

Wang Bai nodded, his gaze sweeping over the strongest fighters around him: "Silas, Father Anderson, follow me! We'll storm the core!"

"In the name of the Father, this evil will be purified!"

Father Alexander Anderson roared, his fingers already filled with gleaming holy nails, and violent holy power surged around him.

Silas Victoria took a deep breath, a hint of tension flashing in her crimson eyes, but more so a resolute determination to find her goal.

She gripped her weapon tightly, the power of the vampire surging within her.

Accardo let out a deep, joyful laugh, the hem of his scarlet trench coat fluttering in the energy storm, as if he himself were the protagonist on this apocalyptic stage.

"Finally—am I about to meet the main character? Don't disappoint me!"

This elite squad, composed of superhuman beings, was like a red-hot blade. In an instant, they broke away from the main force, which was still fighting against the tide of infected, and launched a death charge towards the core area of ​​Sachshuaman!

Their speed was beyond reason, leaving trails of afterimages among the rugged mountains and twisted boulders. However, the closer they got to the core, the greater the resistance became.

A highly organized defensive line led by elite members of the "Church of Eclipse"!

A massive wall of flesh, formed from the fusion of infected individuals, rose from the ground, attempting to block their path.

Father Anderson roared and charged forward, unleashing a torrent of holy nails and igniting holy flames that blasted a huge hole in the wall of flesh.

Invisible spatial folds and energy turbulence attempted to deflect them, even tearing them apart. Wang Bai waved his hands rapidly, the runes Raido (travel) and Ansuz (communication) flashing, forcibly "correcting" their path and stabilizing the surrounding space.

The "spiritual resonance entities" hidden high above unleashed their combined power, and the invisible spiritual impact pierced everyone's minds like countless steel needles.

Silas let out a painful groan, but Wang Bai's power of intent acted like the strongest shield, blocking the most fatal impact. At the same time, Alucard's unfathomable dark existence swallowed these mental attacks like pebbles thrown into the sea.

The giant rocks on the mountaintop seemed to come alive, rolling and crashing down with tremendous force!

Wang Bai plays the role of both navigator and obstacle remover in this story.

His mental state not only defended against mental attacks, but also constantly sensed the precise location of the ritual's core and the weak points in the energy flow.

His rune magic sometimes transforms into lightning that clears paths, and sometimes into ice that imprisons enemies, precisely dismantling any obstacles in his way.

Silas and Anderson are his sharpest spears.

With the agility of a vampire and the power of his giant gun, Silas picks off elite enemies who try to ambush or interfere from a distance.

Anderson, like a berserker, used the purest and most violent holy power to thoroughly purify all the filth that dared to approach.

They finally broke through the last line of defense composed of fanatical believers and mutants, and rushed to the central platform at the very top of Sachshuaman.

The sight before my eyes was enough to drive any sane person insane instantly.

At the center of the platform was not the expected Behelit, but a gigantic living altar formed by the entanglement and fusion of countless tormented human bodies!

These bodies were still twitching slightly, their faces frozen in extreme pain and eerie pleasure. Their life force and despair were being drawn out like a stream and flowed into an incredibly complex geometric pattern made of dark red energy that floated above the altar—it was the spiral pattern on the surface of Behelight magnified countless times!

Around the altar, dozens of core members of the "Church of Eclipse" knelt, dressed in tattered black robes. Their faces were branded with complete spiral blood crosses, and they were chanting in an ancient and blasphemous language.

Their leader, a gaunt old man who looked like nothing but skin and bones, raised his hands. On his chest, the skin was translucent, and a miniature, violently beating Behemoth was clearly visible embedded in the location of his heart!

The vortex in the sky became even more violent with their arrival, and the dark red energy pillars grew even thicker. Through those pillars, several enormous, blurry, inhuman shadows could be vaguely seen coalescing at the edge of matter. Their indifferent "gaze" pierced through dimensions and landed on the platform—the Hand of God was about to descend!

"Stop them!" Wang Bai shouted, charging towards the living altar and the old man whose heart was inlaid with Behelet without hesitation.

Father Anderson's eyes widened in fury: "Blasphemy! In the name of the Lord, I grant you eternal punishment!" He burst forth with dazzling holy light, crashing down on the chanting believers like a meteor.

Father Alexander Anderson, like a burning silver meteor, carrying towering holy flames, was the first to rush into the chanting "Church of Eclipse" believers.

His speed far surpassed that of ordinary people, and the holy nail in his hand transformed into a sky full of silver light. Each swing brought with it a shrill scream and burning black smoke.

The cultists attempted to resist with twisted magic and flesh-and-blood superpowers, but they were as fragile as paper before Anderson's holy power, a fusion of absolute faith and raging fury.

"Heretics! Blasphemers! Turn to ashes in the glory of the Lord!"

Anderson's roar intertwined with the chanting of hymns, temporarily suppressing the blasphemous chanting and slowing the rate at which the living altar was drawing life energy.

Silas Victoria, on the other hand, used her vampire agility to move at high speed along the edge of the platform.

Her massive anti-materiel rifle roared deafeningly as it aimed directly at the enormous spiral pattern of energy above the living altar!

The specially made 13mm explosive bullet struck the energy field, exploding into violent ripples.

Although it could not be broken immediately, each attack caused the pattern to flash, and the energy pillar in the sky fluctuated accordingly.

Akard ignored the minions and altars; his own light remained fixed on the shadows in the sky that were gradually taking shape, emanating an aura that could freeze one's soul—the Hand of God.

"Is it just about peeking through the curtain like this? That's really not enough."

A flicker of disappointment flashed in Accardo's crimson eyes, which quickly turned into deeper malice and provocation.

He raised his hand and pointed to the clearest shadow in the sky—a hazy outline that seemed to be made up of countless pained faces, wearing a crown.

"Come on, let me see if you scum who call yourselves 'destiny' are worthy of—pleasing me!"

His body was filled with boiling dark red energy, no longer passively devouring, but actively transforming into a huge demonic claw composed of countless wailing undead that blotted out the sky, and fiercely grabbing at the phantom of the hand of god in the sky against the dark red energy beam!

This is the embodiment of the "River of Dead," a manifestation of Alucard's endless devouring of history, representing the ultimate "devouring."

With the power of "forbidden"!

However, the Hand of God is far superior to any enemy before it.

The enormous demonic claw, upon contact with the shadow of the Hand of God, failed to devour it as it had done before. Instead, it seemed to have struck an invisible, absolutely solid wall!

Even more terrifying is that the cold "gaze" of the Hand of God's shadow seemed to pierce through the demon's claws and directly affect Alucard's essence!

Accardo's body jolted violently!

For the first time, a clear, pained expression, like porcelain cracking, appeared on his perpetually unchanging face, which was always adorned with a maniacal smile!

He sensed that the "concepts" that constituted his existence were being analyzed and distorted by some higher-level force!

His immortality and his devouring power showed signs of being negated in the face of that pure power that represented "destiny" and "causality"!

"Ugh—!"

Alucard let out a suppressed growl, and the dark red energy around him fluctuated violently, even showing signs of dissipating.

In his first direct confrontation with the Hand of God, he was completely outmatched!

The phantom of the hand of God in the sky seemed to have grown tired of this ant-like struggle.

Those enormous, inhuman shadows were no longer merely staring; the phantoms in the sky moved slightly.

There was no sound, no light burst.

But an indescribable and unavoidable force, like the torrent of fate itself, silently swept across the entire platform!

This is not an energy shock, but a denial and distortion at the level of existence!

Father Anderson's holy flames, which had been burning around him, were extinguished as if doused with cold water. He stood frozen in place, his face filled with disbelief, as if the very foundation of his faith was crumbling.

The bullets fired by Silas mysteriously dissolved and disappeared in mid-air.

Accardo roared, and for the first time, his endless "river of death" began to flow backward, as if to vomit up everything that had devoured him. His own existence became flickering, like a poorly signaled image!

Wang Bai, who was the first to be affected, felt as if his soul had been thrown into a meat grinder!

Consciousness, memory, power, and even the concept of "self" are being forcibly torn apart by this incomprehensible force.

break down!

This can't end like this!

In the instant before his consciousness was about to completely dissipate, the Imaginary Tree within Wang Bai's body, which was connected to multiple worlds, sensed the fundamental threat of destruction facing its host and activated itself with unprecedented intensity!

It wasn't orderly guidance, but an instinctive, ferocious, all-out counterattack!

The power of the Imaginary Tree, representing "redemption," and the power of the Hand of God, representing "predetermined, hopeless destiny," collided violently at the summit of the Inca!

There was no explosion, no loud noise.

What happened was a phenomenon far more bizarre and fundamental than physical destruction—a reality that had been "smeared."

Centered on the point where Wang Bai and the power of the Hand of God clashed, everything around them—the giant rocks of Saksewaman, the dark red sky, the distorted altar, the figures in battle, and even space itself—began to lose their original form and color.

The boulders flowed down in patches of vibrant color like melting candles;

The purple-red and dark red in the sky intertwined and swirled, like an overturned palette;

Anderson's figure transformed into a struggling silver blur;

Silas transformed into a blurry red silhouette; Accardo became a deep, dark red that kept expanding and contracting.

The shadows of those divine hands twisted into indescribable, ever-changing geometric shapes.

In an instant, the whole world transformed into a massive, chaotic, and abstract painting filled with pain and madness!

The laws of physics lose their meaning, and the logic of cause and effect falls into chaos.

At the center of this surreal, conscious storm, Wang Bai's ego bears the greatest pressure.

He felt his consciousness being washed away like a sandcastle by the tide, fragments of memory flying everywhere, and his awareness of his own existence rapidly blurred.

It felt as if I had been immersed in a chaotic sea of ​​vibrant colors for countless years, yet it also felt like only a fleeting moment.

Wang Bai's consciousness drifted amidst endless shimmering light, constantly weakened and disintegrated. He lost his sense of time, lost most of his memories, leaving only a sliver of survival instinct and a persistent pursuit of that lingering warmth.

Finally, that warmth grew clearer and clearer, like a beacon in the darkness. He "swam" towards it, immersing himself in it without hesitation—

"Cannot—disappear—"

"Anchor point — an anchor point is needed —"

In the moments before he was about to completely merge into this abstract chaos, his remaining will instinctively searched for anything that could fix his "self".

He sensed a faint connection to other worlds emanating from the depths of the Imaginary Tree, and felt Behelight's whispers of temptation and destruction, but these were all traps or unreliable.

Finally, deep within that bizarre and chaotic realm of consciousness, a faint yet incredibly warm, pure, and vibrant sensation drew his fading consciousness in.

That feeling—like returning to the original harbor of life.

With his last ounce of strength, he projected his remaining consciousness toward that glimmer of warmth and life—

Consciousness slowly rose from a warm darkness.

The first sensation was a tight, enveloping feeling, warm and moist, filled with a rhythmic, deep pulsation—the most primal symphony of life. A pure and gentle life energy was continuously nourishing his extremely weak, almost transparent consciousness through some kind of connection.

He "opened" his invisible senses.

He was surrounded by a soft, reddish gloom. He could "see" a tough yet resilient barrier enveloping him.

Beside him, not far away, there was another faint but equally vibrant life consciousness, like a small ball of light, restlessly stirring.

He—is inside a woman?

Is he an unborn fetus?

Is that his twin brother next to him?

The remaining core of Wang Bai's consciousness, belonging to "Wang Bai," trembled violently due to this extreme misalignment and subversion.

He tried to recall what had happened: the divine hand, the imaginary tree, the abstract world, the drifting of consciousness—his memories were fragmented, as if seen through a thick layer of frosted glass.

But one thing is absolutely clear: he still "exists".

He was neither obliterated by the hand of God nor lost in the dimensional gaps.

The Imaginary Tree's final instinctive counterattack, along with its own pursuit of an anchor point in life, inadvertently projected its core consciousness into this newly conceived, pure life form.

However, a more urgent and critical problem has arisen: the mother body in question is about to die!