Survival in Sequences: Eighteen Years Old, Slaying Monsters Like Horses

Xu Si's gaze fell on Fan Wanwan, his scarlet star-like eyes showing little emotion.

"I don't want strange drops or oddities," he said.

Fan Wanwan's eyebrows twitched slightly, and the dark red scales on the crimson dragon's back made a soft rubbing sound as she adjusted her posture.

"What do you want?"

Xu Si raised an eyebrow slightly.

"First, the World Tree will continue to expand, but at a slower pace. I can get Yi-Yi to control the expansion rate within an acceptable range, but stopping it—is impossible."

Fan Wanwan pursed her lips slightly, but did not interrupt.

If the arrival of the divine messenger is inevitable, then this is not unacceptable; it just means that the time left for them will be even more pressing.

"Secondly, the Gray-White Land must be completely isolated. If any unseen entity steps outside the Gray-White Land, I will consider the agreement null and void. At that point, I will no longer negotiate a truce; I will directly eliminate your high-level combat forces."

"No problem." Fan Wanwan nodded.

"The gray and white land itself has boundaries, and we never intended to cross them."

Xu Si raised his third finger.

"Third, I want you to provide all information about gods, the chosen ones, and outsiders. Tell me everything you know."

"There are unpredictable risks in revealing anything about the gods, risks that even we cannot afford." This time, [Lou Mi Wang] spoke, his voice like a bell, carrying bursts of thunder.

"I agree!" Fan Wanwan interrupted [Lou Mi Wang] directly.

This guy is just very straightforward.

You can decide for yourself what you can and cannot say.

If I tell you to tell everything, will you really tell everything?

Why can't we learn from the human race's adaptability?

She was speechless.

"You agreed so readily."

Fan Wanwan slightly turned her head, avoiding the two scrutinizing gazes, and said calmly, "Knowing too much about some things isn't necessarily a good thing. But since I promised you, I will keep my word. I will share with you everything I know about gods and the chosen ones."

"Okay." Xu Si agreed readily, then changed the subject, his gaze sweeping over the crimson dragon and the Lou Mi King.

Where are the two of them?

The crimson dragon gave a low hum and exhaled a wisp of dark red smoke from its nostrils. The smoke condensed into a blurry outline in the air before quickly dissipating.

It didn't speak, but its attitude clearly indicated tacit approval.

Loumi King's enormous head slowly lowered, and the shadows flowing from its antlers drew twisted arcs in the air.

Its voice rolled down from mid-air like a muffled thunderclap: "I only care about one thing—you said the World Tree would slow its expansion. To what extent?"

Xu Si glanced at the World Tree's emerald green canopy, where golden-green light flowed through the branches and leaves, like an ever-burning warm fire.

He remained silent for a moment, as if exchanging opinions with the depths of his consciousness.

Then he spoke again: "Based on the current territory, the outward expansion rate will not exceed one hundred kilometers per month. You can send someone to discuss the specific boundary lines and monitoring methods."

Loumi King's antlers trembled slightly, and the flowing shadows receded a bit.

It's as if some emotion has shifted from extreme vigilance to reluctant acceptance.

It said nothing more, and its massive body slowly retreated half a foot into the dark clouds, giving the main talking position back to Fan Wanwan.

Fan Wanwan took two steps forward from the crimson dragon's back, standing at the junction of the dragon's neck and spine, looking Xu Si in the eye.

"Therefore, the truce agreement is hereby reached."

"Can."

Fu Xiaojian, standing to the side and behind Xu Si, couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

But the pressure they faced not only didn't decrease, but actually increased considerably.

Those divine messengers who have not yet descended, possibly from other small worlds; those losers and victors cast into this trial ground by the gods; those beings who are more ancient and more powerful than he knew.

It is destined to be more dangerous than the strange creatures on Earth.

"There's one more thing," Xu Si said.

Fan Wanwan stopped and waited for him to speak.

"If those so-called divine messengers truly descend—how do you, the Gray Land, intend to conduct yourselves?"

This question caused the air to suddenly become quiet for a beat.

Lou Mi Wang tilted his head slightly, and the viscous shadows surged like stirred ink.

The dark red scales on the crimson dragon's back opened and closed for a moment, making a faint sound, like metal shifting.

They can also be considered failures among the chosen ones, but there are always those who are more successful than them, such as those who have advanced to Sequence Nine and are only one step away from godhood.

In comparison, they seem far inferior.

Fan Wanwan remained silent for a long time.

So long that Fu Xiaojian thought she would refuse to answer, so long that the clouds swept in from the horizon had moved a considerable distance, so long that the crimson dragon let out a low, impatient breath.

Then she said, "We're only on our side."

Failure is terrible, but she still wants to fight for herself.

"We'll see." Xu Si nodded, surprisingly not asking any further questions.

Fan Wanwan nodded and didn't say anything more.

The crimson dragon then rose up, its wings unfurling, its dark red scales gleaming with a cold, metallic sheen under the blood-red sun.

Lou Mi Wang's massive body slowly turned around in the dark clouds, the shadow on its antlers like a folded flag, silently retreating to the north.

They did not sign any contract because there was no need.

A crimson dragon carried Fan Wanwan into the clouds, and just before she completely disappeared behind them, her voice descended from mid-air: "Xu Si, the cruelty of the final chapter of the Chosen Ones is far greater than you imagine. Don't think you've got victory in the bag just because you're at Sequence Nine."

Xu Si never thought so.

He had already deeply experienced the cruelty of the apocalypse the moment it arrived.

Watching that massive black cloud completely disappear at the edge of the northern horizon, the surging dark clouds, like a curtain held up by a giant hand, gradually gathered, thinned, and dissipated from the edges.

The exposed sky once again revealed the crimson glow of the sun, which pierced through the golden-green leaves of the World Tree, casting dappled warm hues on the city's stone pavement.

Fu Xiaojian exhaled a long breath of stale air, loosened his hand from the hilt of the sword, and felt a cool breeze blowing through the fine layer of sweat on his palm.

He glanced at Xu Si and saw that the young man had already sat back on the silver-white throne.

"Do you think the divine messenger is real or fake?"

"I don't know!" Xu Si was also considering this question.

"It's very likely true!" Wan Liuchun suddenly emerged from the dark building.

"Why do you say that?" Xu Si looked at her in surprise.

"This selection is completely different from any selection we have experienced before, and this is just one aspect."

"Secondly, even utter losers like us are running, so there's no reason for those who are just one step away from success not to participate!"

The logic is simple: if these so-called divine messengers were to obtain divine positions, then the gods behind them would gain natural allies.

Therefore, none of the gods would give up this opportunity.