Miss Wang Weina, even your cousin won't do!

But no one was willing to make a move. Victoria looked at Ursus, Ursus looked at Letania, Letania looked at Casimir, and Casimir then turned his gaze to Colombia. The Colombian capitalists, of course, wouldn't be so kind as to become henchmen of the great powers, so they tacitly passed the buck to other countries. Whoever made the first move would suffer a loss; conscripting an army from a distant land to this godforsaken mine was not a worthwhile endeavor. Rather than dealing with the discontent of the domestic army and the objections of the nobility, abandoning a group of infected people who had no voice seemed to be the most economical and practical solution.

Although the simple phrase "economical and affordable" represents the lives of countless infected individuals.

“Infected people are everywhere. As long as we raise our flags and set our prices, they'll swarm in like locusts. There's no need to waste resources and manpower on the lives of a bunch of infected. His Majesty the Emperor's idea is to simply abandon the satellite city and rebuild it later.” This was the statement relayed by the then-Ursus ambassador to Rembiton, echoing the words of the then-Ursus Emperor: the Great Conqueror, the Emperor, Caesar—Uman Ivanovich. This emperor, who had once ordered an entire city to be submerged without hesitation, used the power of the Ursus Empire at its golden age to persuade all the representatives at the joint meeting to agree to the proposal.

Decades later, the abandoned city lost its name and became a ruin. The infected in the city, without any support, were forced to confront the very problems their ancestors had faced since the distant past—after countless natural disasters, internal conflicts, and piecemeal expansion, no miracle occurred. Without exception, the infected in the abandoned city perished, some from Oripathy, some from the blades of battle, and some from starving companions. When Rembiton's exploration team discovered the Rabbit Mine, they also discovered this abandoned city, deliberately erased from history. After a preliminary survey, they reported the city to the current Rembiton authorities. The new representatives were completely unaware of the city's past. After arranging for the removal of the grotesque Originium crystals scattered throughout the city, it was designated as the vanguard city for the Rabbit Mine's expansion, attracting wave after wave of miners to settle there.

A generation has passed away, and the new miners know nothing about the abandoned city. They are very satisfied with the legacy of this former satellite city, and they are eager to sign up to enter while praising Sigraine's generosity—all the facilities in the abandoned city are rented to the miners for free, and even the source stone electricity and tap water for daily use are supplied free of charge by Sigraine's company to attract miners to enter.

Thus, without even the passage of time, in just a few decades, the ruined city—a form the infected who had once drowned there could never have imagined—was revived once more—without liberation, without salvation, without hope. Uman the Great's words became reality amidst the infected's scornful laughter.

This is the history of the abandoned city. This unremarkable tragedy doesn't even receive much attention in books about the tragedies of the infected. For the generation living there, the history of the abandoned city is irrelevant. They care more about the present than the tragedies of the infected.

Gold coins, jobs, and the "great religion" that has already occupied the ruined city.

The Ruined City Cathedral—formerly the municipal hall of a satellite city. Remnants of its former grandeur remain; milky-white marble columns support the hall, and a clear fountain pool runs through the center of a crescent-shaped staircase, filling the building with an atmosphere of sanctity and elegance. However, where the portrait of the last satellite city mayor once stood, it is now replaced by a portrait of Pope Alfakson I. That portrait, with its blurred brushstrokes and distorted, withered face, is revered as a deity by countless believers, who pray to it day and night. And ascending the stairs to the second floor of the municipal hall, within the Cathedral's Inquisition, the purple-haired girl from Catherine is imprisoned.

"Miss Sylvia, is there no need to struggle anymore?"

The guards outside persisted in their persuasion.

"It is not unacceptable to believe in Lord Elfaxen and the God of Minerals. Unlike those false gods, our god will bestow true miracles upon His chosen believers."

"Pah! Don't even think about it! And where did you bunch of lunatics get my name from!"

"Of course, it came from that little girl from Carter's who was with you. She kept repeating about Sylvia coming back to save her, the atrocities... Sylvia... the atrocities... Amiya..."

The guard murmured dreamily, then suddenly fell silent. No matter how the tyrant questioned him, berated him for laying a hand on a little girl, he remained completely unmoved. A few minutes later, the guard suddenly awoke, his personality completely changed. He sneered at the tyrant on the other side of the wall:

"Still being stubborn? The divine has already revealed the truth: your chance to surrender and convert to me is gone! Our Lord has halted all actions. We are to gather in the hall to witness how you, this heretic, will be purified by Our Lord, and then wholeheartedly submit along with that little brat of yours! Our Lord has returned! Just you wait and see!"

PS: Order, draw the order!

P.S.: The dialect dubbing is quite good. As a Chongqing native, I feel that the Sichuan dialect used in previous years was a bit restrained. Of course, that was a live stream clip; maybe it will be improved when it's officially implemented? And honestly, without exaggeration, I think the dialect dubbing is miles ahead of the standard dubbing. The standard dubbing always has a strange, translated feel, especially the "Ah Neng" line—his voice was so awkward it was almost painful to listen to. This dialect version, on the other hand, is surprisingly comfortable. Although I don't understand it, at least I know it's authentic Chinese spoken by native speakers in a normal tone.

Chapter 110 Self-Destruct (No Mercy)

Wayne: "Did you stop it?"

Alfaksen I: "It has been stopped."

Wayne: "Prove it?"

“How do you want to prove it? How am I supposed to prove it?” Alfakson asked in frustration. “Go into the ruined city now, there won’t be anyone there. Everyone has already gathered in the sanctuary.”

“I’ll go take a look,” Ascaron volunteered. “With my skills, even if I’m discovered, I can easily escape. I can make a round trip in an hour at most.”

One hour, crossing most of the city, running to the city center and then back?

Although he already knew Ascalon was exceptionally skilled, Wayne was still somewhat surprised to hear her make such a boast. However, coming from her mouth, the impossible became possible. After all, she had fulfilled her promise, eliminating several powerful figures within Rembiton who harbored evil intentions towards Babel in less than a night. In terms of efficiency, Ascalon was arguably the strongest person in Babel. Even the three giants—Wayne, Theresa, and Kal'tsit—couldn't compare to her.

This is probably because Wayne's initial move led to the subsequent moves, turning the entire Tower of Babel trio into a tanking trio.

However, this time, Wayne didn't intend to let Ascalon attempt the impossible. He gently shook his head and called out to the side, "Kroos!"

Kroos was already prepared. She placed the calibrated drone on the ground, then grabbed the mechanical bat and began operating it on the display screen:

"Ready to go, takeoff!"

She gently pressed the green start button on the screen, and the wings of the small reconnaissance drone began to rotate. Soon, it kicked up a cloud of dust on the ground and slowly flew into the sky, heading towards the center of the abandoned city.

Kroos switched the little bat's screen to the monitoring feed, turned on the drone's camera, and the drone's camera, connected to the intercity network, quickly displayed the entire cityscape of the abandoned city on the monitoring screen, moving from near to far. After doing all this, she carefully handed the little bat to Wayne, adding a few words of advice:

"Your Highness Wayne, this screen is a full touchscreen design, so be careful not to touch anything strange."

Wayne wanted to roll his eyes, but he held back, only thinking to himself: "I've been playing with touchscreen phones for way too long, don't I know how to operate one?" Even disregarding his past life, in the time since he transmigrated, Wayne has used countless touchscreen phones, tablets, and other tech gadgets. Don't treat nobles like old-fashioned recluses who only listen to classical opera and drink wine in castles. We're keeping up with the times, okay?

Wayne expertly zoomed in with three fingers, instantly making the streets above and below the camera much clearer. The footage showed the streets of the abandoned city bustling with people heading towards the city center. Wayne was quite surprised that the demons hadn't played any tricks.

However, to be fair, the demon Wayne encountered this time wasn't quite right in the head; it seemed to have never played any tricks. The whole thing was just a non-scary haunted house designed to scare Wayne, and after Wayne complained that it wasn't scary at all, it got furious and stormed out to argue with Wayne: "You can say you're strong, but you can't say the haunted house is bad, and you certainly can't say I have bad taste!" Then Wayne... well, mainly Mudrock, gave it a good beating, thankfully its thick skin prevented it from dying.

What puzzled Wayne most wasn't why a demon would dress as a human, engage in religious worship, or collect offerings. Rather, it was that this demon was clearly very resilient and could rely on its fists; why did it insist on using its brains? Considering the distance it was chased and hammered around the castle three times by the mudstone giant summoned by Mudrock, Wayne figured that if it were actually implemented as a game boss, its health bar would at least be S+. And it would be the kind that says, "I'm S+ because the maximum health bar can be S+."

Kal'tsit later answered this question for Wayne, commenting, "Because this demon has no brains."

Wayne suddenly realized, "That's right, this thing is a headless monster, it doesn't have a brain at all. It might not be doing this for any particular reason, it's just simply brainless, hence its stupidity. Absolutely right, Kal'tsit, absolutely right. You've solved a century-old problem!"

Having grown accustomed to scheming and plotting alongside the intrigue-hungry characters in Arknights, Wayne, who rarely overthinks things, was surprised to find that it was Kal'tsit who reminded him that he was overthinking things. The feeling was... quite subtle.

“He didn’t play any tricks.” Wayne swiped the screen to turn off the surveillance. Just as he was about to say something, he saw that after the surveillance was turned off, the little bat’s monitor automatically switched to the next interface—a chat group interface. The chat group was called “Babel Tower Employee Confession Group”.

Before he could even read what was being complained about in the employee rant group, Kroos rushed over like a madwoman, snatched the little bat away, and stuffed it into her chest. Wayne was stunned; he wanted it back but didn't know where to begin.

He could only give Kroos a meaningful look, conveying a message that seemed to say, "You'd better come and confess to me sooner rather than later what you're doing in your private group chat, and who you confessed to on the confession wall." Then, without waiting for Kroos to understand, Wayne turned to Ascalon, pretending nothing had happened, and said:

"No, there's no need for that, Ascalon. Witness this power of technology."

Ascalon nodded blankly, then pouted resentfully, clicked his tongue softly, and turned his head to the side, looking like he was throwing a tantrum. Wayne, unsure why, could only shrug and turn his gaze back to Alfakson I.

The twisted demon seemed to want to make a fawning gesture, but its grotesque appearance meant that no matter how it tried to express itself, it would only appear more bizarre. Finally, it abandoned its attempt at flattery and spoke:

"Now, can you let me go?"

“Yes, I promised you. You can go now. I keep my promise.” Wayne nodded unexpectedly, then released his hand that was holding it.

The demon Elfaxen dared not linger for a moment, and with a stride, its countless tentacles flailing, it rushed into the distance.

It will seek revenge, but certainly not now. This mortal's magic is too terrifying. The demon is still unsure whether it is a "mortal" in the conventional sense. How could a mortal have such mental strength and such terrifying magic that it can immobilize the demon and turn it into a puppet?

It must flee, flee as far as it can, and then gather its strength. The power of a demon can increase infinitely. Since the knowledge and worship of a single abandoned city's followers are insufficient to make it powerful enough to defeat Wayne, then a large mobile city will suffice; if one mobile city isn't enough, then a region, a nation, half a continent will do!

Sooner or later, its power will be so great that even Wayne will be helpless against it, and that will be its time for revenge. But before that, Wayne may very well have already died of old age? Alfakson has witnessed the birth, aging, sickness, and death of mortals. The existence of this natural law makes these short-lived beings sensitive and vulnerable. No matter how strong Wayne is, he is still just a mortal. Even if he can't defeat it, a demon that has no concept of lifespan can simply outlive him!

It has a hundred ways to defeat Wayne, and Wayne can only seize it now, kill it. He lost the moment he let himself go—no, the moment he loosened his grip on his own hand!

Faster! Get out of here! Faster!

Alfakson watched as the scenery before him zoomed in and in, his speed increasing faster and faster.

"Mr. Bruce, what are you doing?!"

"Your Highness Wayne!?"

Suddenly, two distant calls reached the demon's ears. The demon recognized the voices; they were the voices of the two women who had been with the mortal named Wayne. The voices were so distant; it seemed the demon had already fled quite far.

Why are they shouting so loudly? What happened to that mortal named Wayne? Did he suddenly die? That would be wonderful!

But we can't look back, we can't look back, we can't look back! What if we look back and it's that damned mortal's trick again? Escaping is the priority!

"It's nothing, I was just imitating. I've been thinking, if demons can create 'kingdoms' by releasing their spiritual power, and then kill their enemies by destroying those 'kingdoms,' could I do the same?"

The man's voice came from behind. The demon understood immediately; it was indeed that man's trick. He was perfectly fine.

But what did he just say? What "country"?

“However, it seems the demon must possess some special techniques that cannot be achieved with mental power alone,” Wayne sighed. “This is the best I can do. Well then, the experiment is over.”

Wayne stared at the demon, still hovering a short distance in front of him, having barely moved a meter. The demon waved its tentacles, its spiritual energy brimming with the joy of surviving a catastrophe and the fury of vengeful rage, seemingly seeing a glimmer of hope. Around it, a large amount of spiritual energy, released by Wayne and emitting a faint golden halo, rapidly dissipated. This energy was unstable in the material world; once Wayne stopped releasing it, it would quickly vanish without a trace. It couldn't be released as a faint black mist like the demon, or even carve out a kingdom from the material world. Even a poorly made version of black mud couldn't achieve that. It could only force the enveloped entity into a similar "cutting" state through Wayne's continuous output (thinking it was running fast and almost away, but in reality, it had only moved a short meter). However, Wayne could achieve this effect simply by using the Heavenly Mandate Imperial Authority. While this method was more concealed, it was extremely energy-intensive, flashy, and impractical.

The experiment failed; Wayne was still human, not a demon.

Then, Wayne snapped his fingers lightly.

"Go ahead and self-destruct."

The golden spiritual energy suddenly erupted with intense light, instantly engulfing the twisted figure of the demon contained within. It was as if a golden sun had risen outside the ruined city.

Chapter 111 The God of the Two-Horned Beasts

"Clang—clang!"

A crisp metallic clang signaled the complete collapse of the last remaining defender's will. The man wielding the machete dropped it, collapsing to his knees in a disheveled state. Tears streamed down his face in despair, his wide eyes bulging as if about to pop out of their sockets, the dense blood vessels giving him a gruesome appearance. Incoherent sounds escaped his throat, along with broken teeth and spitting saliva, all escaping from his swollen lips:

"No...no...who are you...why...My lord...where are you? I can't sense anything...I can't sense anything! No! Ugh!"

A flash of silver light, followed by a short gasp. The man collapsed to the ground, convulsing as he clutched his neck, unable to stop the gushing blood. More and more, a thick, scarlet liquid seeped from between his fingers, staining the ground before him, slowly spreading until it was stopped by a dark barrier of light.

The killer swung his robe with disdain, and on that dark green robe hung a familiar pattern—three intersecting diamonds—the emblem of the annihilated Deeppool reappeared.

The tall, black-robed figure with two horns was clearly neither Mandela, who was allowed by Wayne to carry out his final revenge under surveillance, nor the Celtic prisoner temporarily held in the New Wales Palace awaiting transfer after the completion of Drak City, nor Reed, who was imprisoned and currently guarded by unicorns in the Dublin Royal Palace. His horns were jet black and long, like two beautiful works of art, exquisite black gems that almost reflected light. Behind him, dozens of two-horned warriors, also clad in deep pool armor, calmly watched ahead, oblivious to the mountain of corpses and sea of ​​blood beside them.

"Have you spotted Aslan?"

He, or rather, "He," spoke thus, a mechanical voice emanating from beneath his indistinct face, like a precisely synthesized electronic tone. The already silent city hall seemed to grow even colder. Even the blood spreading towards Him at His feet congealed into a thin layer of white frost. Only He Himself appeared radiant, His surging rage seemingly tangible, never to be extinguished.

"They will come. Zu."

A warrior with jet-black horns stepped forward and stood behind Him, answering respectfully.

Vanished amidst the turmoil of Victoria, only to reappear in the ruins of Rembiton, thousands of miles away, the Twin Horned Beasts have finally summoned their [Ancestor]. A real being, and still existing, a being beyond the immortals—a god.

There is a record of the following in the myths about Victoria:

When Aslan from Sargon claimed the lands of Victoria as theirs, the rulers of that land should have united in retaliation. But one tribe split in two. One, with snow-white fur, handsome features, and elegant single horns, sided with the invaders, carrying out repeated, despicable assassinations using every means at their disposal. The other, with dark, ugly features and repulsive two horns, aided the rulers, using sharp swords and heavy axes to repel wave after wave of enemy attacks.

This story is still told today, but the main content has been completely altered, becoming a parable to teach children not to judge a book by its cover and to understand people's hearts. The truth can only be known from the mouths of those who have lived long lives, but they generally keep it a secret.

The ugly, two-horned race described in the text is the Two-Horned Beast race. They originated in the northern border of Victoria and lived in the mountains of the north, isolated from civilization and the wilderness. During the Aslan-Drak war for the throne, they allied with the Drak race, but were ultimately defeated and forced to retreat to the remote mountains. The Aslan race established the extremely risky royal title of "King of the North" not only to provide timely warnings and eliminate demons that might cross the final line of defense, but also to suppress the Two-Horned Beast race, preventing these brutes from breaking out of the mountains and wreaking havoc.

A thousand years have passed. Even the most prosperous races, living among roaming demons in desolate forests, would slowly perish. But the two-horned beasts have stubbornly survived to this day, not through any wisdom of survival, but through pure brute force.

Unicorns possess victory, while they—the two-horned beasts—have a god they once served when they were of the same race. A god who has pushed force to its limits, truly powerful, capable of shattering mountains with a single punch and shaking the earth with a single kick.

The Golem Gate of Jeragund is nothing but a child's play; true men believe in the brutal power to fight demons head-on. When the remnants of the Drakk forces—the Deeppool—finally met their end on the outskirts of Londinium, the unicorns, who had been allowed to escape the battlefield prematurely thanks to Mandra's foolish command, survived. They trekked across mountains and rivers, carrying news of the Deeppool's destruction back to the northern forests, where they unleashed their final trump card—Zu.

They awakened the ancestor, told him about the fate of the Celtic descendants of the Drak, informed him of the disastrous defeat at the Deep Pool, warned him of the dangers of Wayne, and finally prayed for the ancestor's protection.

Finally, the Ancestor bestowed a divine miracle. A fragment of Him, a part of Him, attached itself to the most valiant warriors of the sacrificial unicorns, following them in pursuit of Vayne's footsteps, traversing the land, and arriving at the ruins of Rembito.

This time, they arrived a step ahead.

People poured into the sanctuary in an endless stream. These mortals, corrupted by Alfakson I, were fearless and dared to charge forward with swords even before a god. This greatly surprised the Ancestor. He had slumbered for so long, yet mortals had already shown no fear of gods?

Faced with the attacks, He spoke of reason, and with a punch, the force of the wind pulverized the fragile flesh into mincemeat. With a stomp of His foot, the running mortals shattered like porcelain. He walked forward step by step, intending to praise the brave and fearless attackers, but suddenly found that the mortals had revealed their true nature.

They cried out the falsehood that "Our Lord is dead," ignoring the divine presence that was right before their eyes. They lost their courage, kneeling on the ground and weeping bitterly, not out of fear of His power, but because they had lost their faith.

This enraged Him greatly. The upright God of War could not accept such humiliation, and He personally killed all the desperate believers present, one by one, slowly.

The city hall had been reduced to a bloody grinder, and His gaze slowly rose, passing through the walls and landing on a room on the second floor.

There are still living people there.

He spoke, his mechanical voice somewhat hoarse, like a clockwork that hadn't been wound up with oil.