Dark Wizard: Rise! My undead army!

The eighth scene.

A city where the plague god's banners are not on the city walls, and the plague god's emblem is not on the city gates.

Ordinary soldiers stood at the city gate, wearing ordinary armor, without gray-green robes, incense burners, or potions.

People entering the city do not need to have their health checked, receive a pass, or kneel in worship.

They simply walked in, as if they were walking into an ordinary place.

The city was quiet, the streets were narrow but clean, and there were shops on both sides selling bread, vegetables and second-hand clothes.

The shop owner leaned lazily against the door frame, occasionally greeting acquaintances who passed by.

Everything was so harmonious.

No one was crying on the street, no one was rotting in the corner, and no one was dragging their body covered in sores, waiting to die.

In the center of the city, there is a temple.

Although it's called a temple, it's actually more like a large warehouse.

The walls were made of stone, the roof was made of sheet metal, there were no statues, no altars, and no incense.

There was only a long table by the door, with bread and water on it.

The bread was made from whole grains and was hard, but there was plenty of it. The water was drawn from a well, cool and refreshing, and had no medicinal taste.

There was a wooden sign at the entrance with a few lines of text engraved on it. The characters were crooked and looked like they were written with a foot.

"The Temple of Liberty: They don't believe in God, they believe in themselves."

Lynn's gaze passed over the wooden plaque, over the long table, over the temple gate, and landed on the temple roof.

There stood a young man.

He stood atop the Statue of Liberty.

The goddess statue is cast in bronze, very tall, and holds a sword with the tip pointing to the sky.

The young man stood beside the sword hilt, one hand on the blade, the other hanging at his side.

The wind blew from afar, ruffling his hair and the hem of his clothes, as he watched the small black dots moving slowly on the distant horizon.

Another group of refugees.

He counted them; there were about two hundred people.

The line stretched out very long; those in front were almost at the city gate, while those behind were still slowly making their way up the hillside.

One person couldn't walk anymore and was supported by the people next to him. His two legs dragged on the ground, leaving two marks.

"Someone's here again," he muttered to himself, his voice carried away by the wind.

"The last batch was about three hundred, and this batch has another two hundred. If this continues, how long will the city's food supply last?"

No one could answer him.

Thanks to the protection of the divine artifact "Free Will," the plague cannot get in. Free City is now one of the few "safe havens," and residents of surrounding towns are fleeing here.

"God of Plague..." he whispered, "how many more people will you kill?"

This is a young man in his early twenties, wearing a plain linen shirt and trousers.

It had no armor, no weapons, and looked quite ordinary.

He was very thin, his skin was tanned, and his face was expressionless as he quietly gazed into the distance.

But there is light within him.

Like a kind of "divine light," though not obvious, it can firmly attract the attention of others.

Lynn squinted and zoomed in on the image.

The light was very faint, like morning mist, clinging to the young man's skin.

You can't see it at all without looking closely. But Lynn's senses are very sharp; he sensed it—it was the power of the world.

These world forces flowed in continuously from the outside, changing everything within his body.

Lynn teleported directly behind the young man, his gaze fixed on him, and [Analysis] was activated silently.

Target: Human male, approximately 22 years old, with the power of the world gathering within him, and his strength is approximately at the mid-stage of the first ring.

The power of the world continues to flow in, growing slowly but steadily, and is expected to reach its peak at the third ring.

Lynn withdrew his mental energy.

The chosen one, selected by the will of the world, was born in response to destiny and calamity.

The god of plague has ravaged this world, drastically reducing life, destroying the ecosystem, and eroding the world's natural barriers.

If this continues, the world will die.

The will of the world did not want to die, so it chose a person, gave him power, and sent him to kill the god of plague.

The rest of the story will probably be very cliché.

The chosen one, carrying the last hope and the expectations of all, defeats the evil gods in dire straits, saves the world, marries a beautiful and wealthy woman, reaches the pinnacle of life, establishes a new order, and lives a glorious life...

Hmm...that's how it's written in the script.

But as Lynn looked at the young man standing on top of the goddess statue in the picture, something felt off.

Intermediate level of the first ring?

Even if the power of the world continues to pour in, it will only reach the third ring at most.

The Plague God still has seven divine cores. Once it digests those seven divine cores, it will be at least at the peak of the third ring, and may even touch the threshold of the Saint Mark.

First Ring Road vs. Third Ring Road? Second Ring Road vs. Third Ring Road at their peak?

Lynn shook her head.

Unless the world's will grants this young man an extremely powerful boost—directly leveling him up to the peak of the third ring, gifting him a set of divine artifacts, and giving him a talent that allows him to "attack gods"—it's unlikely he'll ever achieve this.

Otherwise, what will he use to fight?

But if the world's will has this ability, why would it need to choose a chosen one?

They can simply suppress the plague god themselves. The world's will doesn't have that ability.

It can only choose one person, give them its last bit of power, and then gamble.

Lynn looked at the young man in the picture and suddenly understood.

The world's will may not know whether it can kill the plague god, but it has no other choice but to take this desperate gamble.

The world's will knew it might not win, but it didn't want to wait to die. It chose one person, placed all its hopes on him, and sent him to fight one last time.

If we win, the world will thrive.

If he loses, the world will die with him.

Lynn looked away.

This has nothing to do with him; he is an extraterrestrial demon, not a savior.

He came into this world for the rules, for the rewards of the mission.

The god of plague and the chosen one were his "trophies".

Perfect timing! He wanted to study both the gods and the chosen ones, and now he's managed to gather them all together.

And the entire fabric of this world has been clarified.

The plague in this world was spread by the so-called God of Plague.

Those who do not believe in Him will die of the plague, but those who believe in Him and become His followers will receive the cure.

He uses fear to force everyone to believe in Him.

Now that the plague has engulfed the entire world, His followers must be many.

But...believers are also a weakness.

If He kills all His followers, His power will plummet, and then He will have to come out no matter how deep He hides.

He hovered in mid-air, looking down at the gray-yellow earth below, and made up his mind.

Let the Scourge of the Dead cleanse this world completely!

Hmm... Liberty City can be left for now. He also wants to see to what extent the world's will can elevate this "chosen one".

Moreover... the more world power the Chosen One absorbs, the less suppression the world's will exerts on them.

If we go back and directly refine this chosen one, we can obtain more world power.