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

Joan of Arc's pure gold eyes, devoid of human emotion, were fixed on the pitch-black sphere in front of her that was frantically expanding and reorganizing.

Unforgivable.

Joan of Arc's platinum battle skirt fluttered in the vacuum as she gripped the flagpole of the holy banner with both hands and raised it high above her head.

"In the name of the savior—"

The cold, even somewhat mechanical announcement ignored the physical medium through which sound travels, echoing directly among the ruins of the mirrored New Delhi.

The dark sphere in front seemed to sense the approaching extreme danger, and the intricate purple patterns on its surface began to flash at a frenzied frequency.

Tens of thousands of black arcs of electricity intertwined around the sphere, forming an impenetrable defensive net, attempting to withstand the impending judgment.

But Joan of Arc didn't even glance at those defensive measures.

She even closed her eyes, concentrating all her divine perception on the holy banner she held aloft in her hands.

"here."

The moment those two words were uttered, an extremely piercing wail echoed throughout the surrounding hundred miles of space—a structural collapse of the real world as it endured incomprehensible high-dimensional concepts.

"Prohibited from existence."

As the last four words fell, Joan of Arc clenched her fists tightly.

The holy banner that had accompanied her through countless battles and blocked countless fatal attacks completely collapsed at this moment, starting from its most basic photon structure.

The disintegrating photons above Joan of Arc were frantically fusing and collapsing in a way that defied the laws of thermodynamics.

In just half a second.

A platinum sun, over 100 meters in diameter, was born in the sky above New Delhi.

The sun's rays were blindingly bright, yet utterly devoid of warmth.

It brings neither warmth nor fire.

It contains only the most pure and most tyrannical of unreasonable rules—"erasure".

Whether you are the underlying code of the abyss or a collection of the resentment of the gods, under the radiance of this sun, you can only be forcibly removed from the concept of "existence".

The dark remnant of Arjuna's core emitted an extremely shrill high-frequency shriek, which even exceeded the limits of human hearing.

Its enormous, bloated size began to shrink frantically, attempting to compress itself back into a singularity so it could escape back into the ever-expanding abyss below.

escape.

This is the most instinctive reaction of abyssal creatures when faced with an absolute and irresistible logical obliteration.

late.

In the very same millisecond that it attempted to flee downwards, the platinum sun descended.

There was no deafening sound, nor any shockwave that ripped up the earth's crust.

This was a destruction that was both extremely tranquil and extremely terrifying.

Platinum-gold light swept across the airspace like mercury spilling across the ground.

Wherever the light passed, the reconstituted black sphere, along with the dense purple arc defense network around it, and even the entire area of ​​space that was severely contaminated, were affected.

It's like using the highest-quality eraser to scrub hard across a pencil drawing.

It was simply "erased" away.

Not even a trace of ash or a speck of energy remained.

Where the sphere once stood, only absolute nothingness remained—a dimensional void left after space had been completely erased.

ended.

Joan of Arc gasped for breath, trying to regulate her disordered breathing.

Even the original monster that could resurrect infinitely has been completely erased from the concept. This disaster, which almost dragged the entire mirror world into hell, should finally come to an end, right?

but.

Why did that chilling feeling that was sending alarm signals deep into her soul not only not disappear, but instead become even stronger?

Joan of Arc abruptly lowered her head and looked down.

That foul-smelling black sea, formed from the remains of Arjuna and the bones and blood of countless gods.

The gate to the abyss that opened the moment Arjuna died.

It is not closed.

After losing Arjuna, the most crucial "anchor point," the bottomless black gate did not collapse due to the loss of its energy source.

Instead, it resembled an ancient beast that had finally broken free of its chains, expanding even more recklessly and violently.

The vortex, which was originally only a few dozen kilometers in diameter, has now spread to over a hundred kilometers.

The earth's crust, beneath the immense pressure of this terrifying suction, was cracking and splintering.

Countless building ruins, soil, and even the remaining abyssal monsters were all mercilessly swallowed up by that enormous black hole.

That pure "hunger" roar from the very beginning of the universe is no longer a faint auditory hallucination.

Instead, it transformed into tangible physical sound waves, causing Joan of Arc's eardrums to ache and making even breathing extremely difficult.

What's behind that door?

What could be a thousand times more terrifying than Arjuna's so-called "Beast I," something that doesn't even belong to this dimension?

They are squeezing out through the door that Arjuna forcibly opened with his life!

The system panel started alarming again, this time with a piercing sound that could drive anyone mad.

[Warning! A super-high-dimensional energy source is breaking through dimensional barriers!]

The integrity of the spatial structure has decreased to 12%...9%...4%...

[Unable to calculate threat level! Unable to calculate threat level!]

Click!

A crisp, yet chilling, shattering sound echoed across the entire mirror world's sky.

Joan of Arc stared intently at the enormous black void.

In the deepest part of the void, in that churning pure darkness.

A faint purple light appeared.

At first it was just a faint glimmer, but in the blink of an eye, that shimmering light expanded into a huge spot of light.

Followed by.

A giant claw.

A gigantic claw, large enough to crush the largest aircraft carrier in the real world like a toy, suddenly emerged from inside the black door without warning.

This claw has absolutely no skin or scale structure like those of a normal living creature.

Its surface is densely covered with countless twisted eyeballs of varying sizes, which are spinning wildly and oozing purple pus.

Between these eyeballs grow numerous sharp, purple crystal clusters that emit a pungent sulfurous odor.

The crystal clusters collided with each other, producing a mentally jarring metallic scraping sound.

The moment the giant claw reached out of the door.

It neither tried to grab the wreckage still floating in the air, nor did it attack Joan of Arc, who was suspended in mid-air.

Instead, it was incredibly precise and incredibly brutal.

He grabbed the edge of the door, that invisible and intangible spatial barrier.

Sizzle—!

The spatial boundary of the mirror world was torn open by this giant claw, creating a black crack tens of thousands of meters long.

A deathly aura from the abyss, powerful enough to freeze a human soul instantly, poured recklessly into this world through the crack.

And deep within that crack.

A pair of eyes, as large as mountains and composed entirely of viscous purple liquid, stared intently at this mirrored world through the crack in the door, with a playful and greedy gaze, as if looking at food.