Fate's Choice: Livestream at the Start Summoning Billions of Ravens

Li Bai felt as if his sword had struck a lump of sticky glue.

The black flag not only blocked his attack, but it also seemed to have a life of its own, spreading along the sword's edge and trying to devour his sword and even his arm.

"What?!"

Li Bai was shocked and tried to draw his sword and retreat, but found that it wouldn't budge.

"Analysis complete." Black Mud Jeanne spoke for the first time.

"Physical kinetic energy absorption... energy structure deconstruction... you can go die now."

The black light on the flag surged, and an overwhelming and irresistible counterforce erupted.

Li Bai was launched like a cannonball, tumbling through the air more than a dozen times before barely landing, his feet carving two deep furrows in the ground.

"Are you alright?" Newton flashed to his side, his cane still pointing warily ahead.

"She won't die." Li Bai gasped for breath, his right hand holding the sword trembling slightly. "But this woman... she's a bit strange."

"It's not evil, it's evolution."

Newton's face was so dark it seemed to drip water, and his eyes were filled with countless streams of data—the conclusions he had just drawn from his observations.

"She's learning. With that attack just now, she not only perfectly replicated Joan of Arc's defensive mechanism, but also made targeted improvements on it."

Newton looked around, his tone carrying a deep chill.

"And look around."

Li Bai raised his head.

My heart sank.

During the brief few minutes of their battle, the surrounding Black Mud Legion was not idle.

They were no longer mindless charges, but rather like a well-trained army, forming an impenetrable encirclement.

The sky, the ground, and even underground.

Countless scarlet eyes lit up in the darkness.

A thousand "Newtons" stood high up, blocking all spatial coordinates.

Tens of thousands of "Li Bai" formed a sword formation, blocking all escape routes.

In the very center, the black-clad witch held aloft a banner, like a grim reaper judging the world.

"According to my calculation model," Newton pushed up his glasses, his voice regaining absolute calm, or rather, the numbness that comes with despair, "given the enemy's learning speed and numerical superiority, our chances of winning are zero."

"Even if I were included, as the equivalent of explosives, the odds of success would still be zero."

This is the cruelty of reason.

Mathematics doesn't lie; it just coldly tells you that you're doomed.

Zero?

Li Bai stood up straight, his wounds still bleeding, but his back was ramrod straight.

He glanced at his comrades beside him.

"Hey, Rider, do you believe in miracles?"

Newton frowned: "I am a scientist, I only believe in data."

"Then you might need to relearn math today."

Li Bai smiled.

There was no fear in his smile, only a carefree attitude that disregarded life and death. He raised the Azure Lotus Sword in his hand, the tip of the sword pointing at the seemingly invincible black witch.

"There are some things in this world that cannot be calculated."

"For example, how fast Lao Tzu's sword was."

"For example, how determined we are to win."

Li Bai turned his head, his back to Newton, completely entrusting his back to this comrade-in-arms whom he had only known for less than a day.

"We'll have some fun with these bastards for the remaining seven minutes."

Newton looked at the eccentric Eastern poet and remained silent for two seconds.

Then, for the first time, a faint, almost manic smile appeared on his usually taut, British-stylish face.

He pulled out his cane and planted it heavily in the center of their feet.

"Although it doesn't make sense."

"But what if the goal is to establish a new theorem to overturn a conclusion that is doomed to fail..."

"I'll go crazy with you this once."

.......

On the other side, a platinum rainbow pierced through the layers of black curtains.

Joan of Arc did not look back; she could clearly feel the violent sword energy behind her, as well as the vibrations caused by the frantic collapse of gravity.

It was Li Bai and Newton risking their lives to pave the way for her; every second of pause was a desecration of their comrades' sacrifice.

Directly ahead, the towering bone pillar stands proudly. It is no longer an inanimate object; it is the root of the abyss in this world, the physical vessel that bears Arjuna's malice.

The moment Joan of Arc stepped into the hundred-meter radius of the bone pillar.

hum!

The entire space shifted in that instant; the somber black faded, replaced by a lifeless, deathly gray. It was the color of a space where the laws of nature had been utterly distorted.

On the surface of that enormous bone pillar composed of countless corpses and pus, thousands upon thousands of eyes opened without warning. These eyes had no pupils, only chaotic gray spirals.

call out!

Countless gray rays of light shot out from the eyeballs. These rays of light had neither intense heat nor great kinetic energy. In their flight path, they turned everything they touched, whether air or remaining fragments of ruins, into meaningless chaotic powder.

This is a conceptual erasure.

In the face of such light, even the strongest armor would be as fragile as paper.

Joan of Arc extended her left hand.

【Sacred Realm - Garden of Eden】

Platinum-gold holy light exploded from her body in that instant.

The barrier wasn't particularly large; it only covered an area with a radius of three meters.

next second.

The gray light struck the barrier without causing any explosion, only a hissing sound like melting ice and snow.

That is the power of the savior and the malice of the abyss clashing at the most fundamental level of logic.

The platinum-gold light and the deathly gray light clashed wildly in mid-air, and the splashing energy waves caused the surrounding earth to collapse continuously.

Despite this pressure, Joan of Arc landed on her feet.

The bottom of the bone pillar was not solid; as she approached, the black mud and bone powder beneath began to writhe violently.

As if they were alive, they spontaneously piled up, eventually forming a staircase that reached straight to the clouds.

The steps were constructed from pale leg and rib bones, with dark red, still-uncongealed blood flowing between the bones.

Joan of Arc stepped onto the first step.

At that very moment, countless noisy, overlapping sounds filled the previously deathly still air.

"I'm so hungry... Why can that person eat meat, while I can only drink muddy water?"

"As long as I kill him, his gold will be mine, and no one will know."

"Look at that woman's eyes, she's definitely laughing at you for being a coward. Kill her!"

Greed, gluttony, anger, lust...

Humanity's most primitive and sordid thoughts transformed into substantial spiritual poison at this moment.

These sounds did not come from the outside, but were poured directly into the depths of Joan of Arc's soul through her senses.

That was the rambling of the seven deadly sins.

On each step of the bone pillar, a blurry, blood-red figure appeared. These figures had different appearances, but all of them exuded an extreme madness.

They reached out their pale hands, trying to grab Joan of Arc's battle skirt, attempting to drag her into this eternal depravity as well.

"Lost souls seek illusory salvation."

Joan of Arc's expression remained unchanged. As a Saver, her will no longer belonged to an individual, but was the last firewall of human reason.

The platinum radiance emanating from her became even purer at this moment. Whenever those blood-red figures touched the edge of the holy light, they would let out a scream as if struck by lightning, and then turn into a wisp of smoke and completely dissipate.

She climbed upwards step by step.

Level 99.

Level 100.

Level 300.

As altitude increases, the simple spiritual pollution begins to weaken, replaced by a heavy, suffocating conceptual pressure.

The gravitational constant here seems to have been increased by more than a hundred times. With each step, the bones on the ground make a crisp cracking sound, but this is not just physical weight.

That was the resentment of the millions of lives lost in the entire Indian Lostbelt. This resentment was gathered together by Arjuna, forming an exclusive and absolute oppressive force.

Click!