The defeated saint is also on the way to tame the evil god today

　In fact, this kind of companionship can really give you unimaginable strength. It makes me feel that my creations are always receiving feedback, and I become more and more motivated to write.

　Love comes from birds.

　So I love writing. In fact, before I graduated, many people told me that I should never write novels full-time, because when a hobby becomes a job, a lot of the original love will be worn away, and eventually writing will become something close to torture.

　I have been working full-time for almost half a year now, and so far, I still love creating.

　Because it really makes me happy. I write stories that I like, and there are readers who like the same stories. This is a kind of resonance and connection that comes from the spiritual level. For me, this is a joy and experience unique to human beings.

　Of course, the more people like it, the more abuse and criticism it naturally receives. But do I care? I really don't care about the abstract rhetoric of those trolls. Many of my fellow book club members have probably experienced waves of abstract rhetoric, from small groups sending spies into the group, to little brats using chicken feathers as a token of authority to demand that I get rid of all the "heretics" in the group, to bombarding the group chat with sensitive information, making it feel like a war.

　Honestly, you really can't control me.

　All readers who truly take my stories to heart should know what I am writing, regardless of the subject matter or the so-called "thunder points". Those who can resonate with me will naturally know what kind of emotion I want to express.

　I won't try to please people who are not my audience. If they love me, they love me. This is my job. No matter where you hang me, you can't destroy my job (yes, my royalties have not decreased, but increased).

　Calling me a literary geek or saying that my writing is bad, these words can't really attack me, because I am a madman who thinks my works are too highbrow for the masses. Even if this book was written under the premise that "more people will like to read it", I don't think I need to be resonated with or anything. Calling me like this will only make you look like a wild boar that can't eat fine bran in my eyes. Will you be angry about the offense of a wild boar?

　It can be regarded as a way to vent emotions, sometimes

　, I’m not really angry, I’m just laughing out of anger.

　After thinking these things through, my horizons actually broadened a lot, and my mindset when writing became much clearer.

　Yes, many of the mainstream works nowadays are short, concise and quick-paced gimmicky works. As a long-length author like me who plans the plot in units of millions of words, I am indeed not as good as others in terms of data in the early stages, and I get relatively fewer resources, and I really lack the opportunity to soar to success.

　But so what?

　There was a time when I was really troubled by this. I always felt that I was unwilling to write such a wonderful story without resources. But now I feel that it was me who was confused. It is impossible for all flowers to bloom on a piece of land. It is already very impressive that I can enclose a small flower garden here to plant my favorite flowers.

　I would also like to thank all the readers who love to see these flowers and give me the opportunity to plant flowers quietly by myself.

　I still have to promise again that no matter what happens, this book will be finished, don't worry about me ruining the ending or anything.

　I consider myself an artist, so I must have some artist's ethics.

　Again, thank you for reading my book, I hope you find it worthwhile.

　See you in Volume 5, "Mistakes in Time"!

　★Volume 5 Error of Time

　The New Testament

　"Through me, enter the city of pain; through me, enter the pit of eternal misery; through me, enter the crowd of people who will never be redeemed."

　——The inscription on the gate of hell, a crimson allegory.

　"Boom!"

　Thunder flashed and heavy rain fell into the gaps of the Black Forest. Autumn in Amt is always rainy and humid, and the whole forest is immersed in a mist of water vapor.

　On the stone road of the Silver Blade Tribe, a girl with long white-gold hair was holding an umbrella made of lotus leaves, and her white and clean little feet splashed in the water.

　"Princess! It's raining outside! At least wear shoes!"

　"No time, no time! You guys go first! You don't have to wait for me for dinner!"

　"Hey!"

　The Elf Princess Freya ignored the shouts of the acquaintances and ran quickly along a path lined with pine trees, arriving at the deepest part of the woods.

　Under a giant tree that is more than ten meters wide, the lights of the mansion are burning. Almost half of the house is carved from the trunk of the tree. It is rough but has a delicate beauty unique to elven architecture.

　Freya quickly ran to the door of the mansion and rushed in without knocking:

　"Granny! Granny!" she cried. "Lemu has been blown into a torch! It must be that angel again!"

　The mansion was completely dark, and no one responded to her. But Freya didn't stop, and spoke without stopping:

　"It must be the Imperials provoking the sea again. The sea is angry! Lei Mudu was struck by lightning. I'm afraid the Crimson Doomsday is coming. What should I do..."

　"Stop making so much noise...girl...save your voice..."

　A wheelchair was pushed out from the darkness, and the old elf leaned on the wheelchair with his head slightly lowered.

　Her skin was as rough as dead wood. Thousands of years had carved her into a statue, without any trace of life.

　Behind the old elf, the little elf named Anya was pushing the wheelchair calmly with an indifferent look.

　"Anya, why are you here too?" Freya asked curiously.

　"Don't be distracted, young lady. Weren't you still worried about the thunderbolt just now?" The old woman looked at the Elf Princess helplessly. "Why? You can't handle it, so you're calling you to harass me, an old woman?"

　"No, no, I haven't told Elder Yuwen yet. I'm afraid he'll pass out!" Freya stuck out her tongue sheepishly. "But, but... thunder and rain! Aren't these all signs before the gates of hell open? Is hell going to be filled so soon? Is the crimson doom and destruction about to come?"

　"The future is now... the abyss is the sky..." The old woman shook her head. "The end of the world is not imminent, but it is always hanging over our heads..."

　"So the Dark Elf King is really right?" Freya's face turned pale. "Then...then...will I still be able to eat river perch in the future? Ugh, I should have asked the chef to steam one for me today..."

　"Not so fast! The end of the world takes time!" The old woman knocked on the wheelchair handle unhappily. "Even if you eat all the fish in the world once more, the end of the world won't come!"

　"That's okay..." Freya breathed out.

　"Because the end of the world has already happened..." The old woman suddenly smiled strangely.

　She waved her hand, and vines emerged from the darkness, wrapping around a mirror.

　Inside the mirror, a crimson book was bound by green light. From time to time, a few characters would spew out and form an image on the mirror surface.

　"This is...the Book of Hell!" Freya was shocked.

　"Hell, the home of exiled souls. Ever since the first life fell, Hell has been filled, approaching completion..."

　The old woman waved her hand, and crimson characters formed images in the air, converging into blurry broken lenses.

　"When Hell is filled, the crimson light will destroy the constraints of the stars, and the world will be swallowed by doom..."

　From the image pieced together by the broken lenses, Freya saw a ship, a ship sailing in the strong wind and waves.

　"As you said, the end begins with the rising of the Gate of Bones... with the stars sinking back into the amniotic fluid of gestation..."

　Freya stared blankly at the

　The ship was galloping in the storm and lightning. Watching it being thrown high up by the huge waves, and then slamming into the sea -

　"Boom!"

　""

　"The armor has reached its threshold! Chief! Lightning is tearing apart our ship's structure!"

　On the bridge, Xing Mo quietly watched the lightning bursting out from the sea, watching them running around on the sea like dragons.

　"Should we continue praying? The ritual magic may last for another ten minutes, enough for us to advance a few more miles."

　"No need," Xingmo shook his head, "These lightning bolts are not natural phenomena, they are extraordinary phenomena. They are guided here to devour us."

　Xingmo closed her eyes, and her senses spread along her body, quickly spreading across the entire ocean.

　She could sense the sea stirring beneath the surface—a volcanic force tearing through the ocean currents, throwing bolts of lightning from the depths to the surface.

　That was a string of lightning that even the Storm Narwhal could not control, which meant it belonged to another supreme being.

　Under this lightning attack, the Academi still maintained a high degree of integrity, which was enough to demonstrate its strong defense as an ironclad ship.

　But even so, that’s where it ends.

　"Laslan City is not far from here. I will go there alone from now on."

　As she said this, Xingmo turned her wrist and grasped the magic wand as if by magic.

　"Eh? But if you're alone..."

　"Retreat five nautical miles and wait for me to come back."

　After Xing Mo finished speaking, his figure disappeared in the dark fog and then quickly gathered at the bow of the ship.

　The rainstorm came down on her head, blurring her vision and causing her body to tremble slightly.

　Amidst the rain, the girl stretched out her hand, and the sanxian gathered in her palm. She then gently held it, and it emitted a pale blue halo.

　"Within a five-nautical-mile radius of me, the sea is calm. This is a truth."

　"Om——"

　The pale blue halo quickly spread among the ocean currents, and the sea surface touched by the light waves became as flat as a cloth wiped by an iron, without even a trace of ripples.

　Those lightning snakes that violently protruded from beneath the sea surface also quickly shrank back into the sea under the soothing of this great force, curled up and dissipated.

　The string of truth doesn't last long.

　Taking advantage of this opportunity, Xingmo waved her magic wand, and gentle waves weaved into a fully wrapped windbreaker on her body, almost blending in with the heavy rain.

　Then she leaped into the waves—

　"thump."

　""

　Freya's eyes widened as she watched a drop of water fall from the eaves into a puddle.

　Beside her, the old woman was looking at the heavy rain outside the eaves and sighed softly.

　"Lei Mu was struck, indicating that the wrath of the pale angel has already surged from beneath the sea." She shook her head slightly. "That ancient angel hasn't been angry for a long time. The last time... was probably when that small boat risked its life to explore the ancient city..."

　"Who's the fool to offend an angel?" Freya muttered. "Now the world's ending has happened. What are we going to do next? Dig a hole underground and hide there?"

　"The end of the world isn't caused by anyone," the old woman shook her head. "The day of destiny is destined to happen. All signs are merely rulers given by God to measure its progress."

　"I don't understand. Doesn't it mean that the end of the world is coming anyway and there's nothing we can do?" Freya stuck out her tongue.

　"Not really..."

　The old woman reached out her hand, caught a falling raindrop, and watched it splash across her palm.

　"The city that is destined to be destroyed will be destroyed, and the people who are destined to die will die."

　"Perhaps, the anchor of destiny is almost complete."

　"Boom!"

　A flash of thunder flashed, turning the sky and the sea pale.

　In the paleness, star foam fell in the ocean current, surrounded by a shield made of starlight.

　Countless lightning surged in the depths of the sea, sometimes gentle, sometimes violent.

　The restraining effect of the String of Truth soon lost its effect. The being hidden beneath the sea obviously did not want its string bed to be polluted by others. It played it wantonly, like a crazy artist venting its emotions.

　"boom!"

　After dodging a flash of lightning, Xingmo finally saw the outline of a giant creature in the dark seabed.

　The Sunken City of Aslan.

　It was a city with strange outlines, and its style did not belong to any civilization on the surface. Long ropes were tied between the rings and spires, and they were hung with bells.

　Whenever lightning flashed, the edges of the bells were filled with lightning, and then burst out with silent sound waves.

　Is that why the lightning keeps lingering in that city? Those bells seem to stir up the lightning...

　Xingmo sank rapidly towards the city. She held up her magic wand, maintaining the golden starlight at the tip of the wand, and continuously dispelled the lightning that was trying to climb up from the surroundings.

　She shuttled through the outlines of the city, watching the tall towers pass by her eyes, and the relief paintings on the ancient and mottled buildings that were mostly covered by seaweed.

　Inspiration was surging in her heart, and Xingmo felt that she was moving towards her destination - it was the golden stars and moon in her body that were guiding her, as if an invisible gravity was paving a road under her feet.

　She fell freely on this fateful path, allowing herself to fall deeper and deeper.

　Soon, she saw the ground of the city.

　It was a huge square with a ribbon-like milky white liquid

　The bodies linger around the square, surrounding the center of the square like a series of stars.

　Countless corpses were kneeling in the square, surrounding the altar in the center of the square. Some were praying, while others were holding their weapons tightly.

　Xingmo landed on the outskirts of the square. When her feet touched the ground, a deep vibration came from the sky.

　"Buzzing..."

　Xing Mo's gaze swept around, lingering on each corpse for a moment to confirm that they were all completely dead.

　Then, she walked step by step towards the altar in the center of the square, wand in hand and a vigilant look on her face.

　A month ago, when Xing Mo returned to the academy, she immediately decrypted the Haishang Yun file given to her by Commander Cheng Haihua, and finally obtained the original course of the ship.