Forge a path to success

Shakes grabbed the communicator and shouted angrily, "What's going on?!"

"The Emerald Heart Warrior made a mistake!" the little animal cried out in a panic. "I set its target to attack the area with the strongest heretical aura, but for some reason it attacked that area instead..."

“Then that’s right,” Qingye said. “There are two… no, maybe three heretics over there!”

Shakes almost laughed in exasperation: "We've fought this many times and we still haven't taken care of one? What is Snake doing?!"

"I wish it could be solved so easily..."

Suddenly, Qingye turned and drew her sword, slicing through the flame arrow with unstoppable force. The flying flames exploded on either side of her, igniting a burst of fire into the sky. While they were talking, the two envoys had already caught up. The Spider-Leg volunteered to act as a flesh tank, while Burning Ash stood on his "good partner" with a sour face.

The spider was still chattering away: "Hurry up, I'll take the damage, you at least need to snipe one of them! Get them to regroup..."

"Shut up, I'll do it!"

Burning Ember nocked an arrow, aimed, and was about to fire the next. However, the two figures who had just been there had vanished without a trace, leaving only a wisp of mist in the air. Cold sweat beaded on the Spider's forehead: "No way..."

"Idiot, get out of the way!"

Burning Ember instinctively changed direction, its burning arrow shattering the bullets fired from the mist. However, the longsword, gleaming like sunlight, had already struck, tearing through the overlapping limbs of the Fallen and slicing into the limb spider's thick body. Then, the blade flashed like starlight, instantly shredding half of the limb spider's body into minced meat.

The spider spat out a mouthful of black blood: "Thousand Nights Fleeting Star...you!"

Qingye emerged from the mist, eyes tightly closed, holding a knife in both hands.

"If it will cause disturbance, then don't look. If it can be repaired, then make more cuts." Qingye calmly judged, "Just keep cutting you until you die."

"Stop it, you idiot!" the limb spider shrieked. "That's why I hate the Heartless Ones!!"

From its mostly shattered body sprouted a thousand tiny, blood-red hands, each forming hand seals, drawing incantations, and creating talismans. Immediately, layers of illusions arose, and fragments of filthy blood splattered down. Qingye did not retreat an inch, slashing rapidly through the blood, advancing steadily with an impenetrable defensive stance. Ranjin tried to draw his bow to rescue, but was thwarted by Shax's sniping from a distance.

It immediately retracted its bow and transformed into a ball of flame, charging forward. However, a Willow Man suddenly appeared, using its sturdy body to block the impact of the burning embers. Shakes seized the opportunity to retreat, and Gulibo leaped over on its cabbage wheels.

"I thought there was still time, so I gave the orders to the war plants," Gulibo said, trembling. "Is it still in time?"

"Perfect." Shax loaded his bullets. "Let's take them all out!"

Gunfire, roars, and the crackling of flames—a cacophony of sounds brought the battlefield back to its original state. The surviving war plants, receiving orders, launched another attack, while the Ember and the Limb Spiders, busy fighting, had no time to command their troops. Freed from their commanders' constraints, the Scourge sensed the shifting emotions and, following their instincts, left their fortresses to join the battle.

The demons broke free of their restraints, destroying lawns and plants. Large corpse puppets rushed out of the fortress, only to be met with fierce attacks from the Willow People. The two sides were locked in a chaotic melee, with attacks from the messengers and warriors occasionally unleashing raging storms and flames, mowing down lower-ranking troops like cutting grass.

In the blink of an eye, the battlefield transformed into a chaotic wasteland beyond anyone's control. The most eye-catching figure in this chaotic battle was the towering Emerald Core Warrior, one of whose arms had been destroyed by lightning, its remaining body constantly subjected to strikes. That sudden blow had clearly enraged Curse Lightning; disregarding the surrounding onslaught, it swung its heavy hammer with brute force.

"You heartless, bloodless creature, how dare you trespass on the battlefield of heroes!" The heavy hammer of Cursed Lightning was gathered into a pure purple by lightning, "Cursed Resentment Gathering... Divine Retribution Lightning Strike!"

With a roar, the giant hammer expanded, transforming into a behemoth comparable to a fortress. The cursed lightning slammed down, the erupting lightning instantly incinerating the Green Heart Warrior's torso. The cursed power within the lightning was extremely insidious; even the vitality of the war plant could not withstand the messenger's furious attack. The warrior's green leaves withered instantly, crashing to the ground amidst the raging flames, crushing a large number of the demon king's reinforcements.

Even as Zhou Lei launched his pursuit, the others did not stop. Wen Yao's soft sword bound his body like a whip, Si Laer's blade shattered his eyes, and a spear and prosthetic arm pierced through Zhou Lei's burly upper body one after the other. "This is not a battle of honor..." Zhou Lei roared, but the warriors had no strength left to spare for him.

The chaotic battle, the tense situation, and the colorless aura floating in the air all stirred the emotions of the crowd. In this unprecedented chaos, there was no time for thought. Now, kill! Wipe out every enemy within sight!

"This guy's tough to kill," Vande roared. "Have you found the sniper yet! Use his bullets!"

"Here they are! They've gone berserk!"

Chu Hengkong heard the faint sounds of small animals. Opposite the burning remains of the Emerald Core Warrior, Qingye and Shax were battling two other envoys. Chu Hengkong immediately swung out his Calamity Wrist, the freely changing prosthetic arm making three loops to bind and pull the three opponents together. Shax aimed his gun at Curse Lightning, but Ember's sniper shot interrupted its trajectory. The burning arrow landed at Curse Lightning's feet, and the force of the explosion sent Curse Lightning flying to the side of the two envoys.

Both sides temporarily halted. Amidst the chaos, the two forces unknowingly merged. The punitive expeditionary force was in poor condition, but all were only lightly wounded. Curse Lightning was heavily injured, Limb Spider was on the verge of death, and Burning Ash's power was almost depleted. An undisputed overwhelming advantage. The outcome of the battle could be decided at this moment.

"Everyone's here, retreat now!" Chu Hengkong shouted, "Back to the settlement—"

"Such a great opportunity, how can we give it up so easily?" Wen Yao smiled and raised her sword. "My dear sister, how about we go first?"

"Leave it to me." Qingxia gathered her strength. "Let's crush them in one fell swoop!"

"No, no," the spider cried out in a low voice. Almost in despair, it knelt on the ground, its hands clenched tightly. "Please, retreat quickly..."

"The battlefield is not a place to beg for mercy!" Shakes pulled the trigger.

Bullets fired, samurai drew their swords, and lance-wielding knights charged towards the enemy. Thunder and fire roared and exploded. This was war—chaotic, disorderly, like a sudden storm that swept away all lives.

Centuries ago, heretics and allies clashed on this land, and now newcomers have once again begun the same war. Death, life, victory, defeat—only these four words remain on the battlefield. Chaos is unpredictable, madness is inescapable, and the very few who remain clear-headed are caught in the middle, yet none can single-handedly reverse the course of events.

Thus, the skirmish came to an end. And so, the situation slid into an abyss of no return.

"It's here," the spider cried.

Here it comes.

In that instant, everything vanished. Bullets, lightning, the very events of war turned to nothingness. Swords that had been drawn returned to their sheaths; bullets fired at the enemy rolled back into their chambers. In a mere instant, both sides were back in their original positions, their memories still clear, yet their actions had mysteriously disappeared.

There were no traces, no damage; even the wind and the earth remained in the same state as they had been seconds before.

It was as if those tense few seconds were nothing more than a shared illusion.

At the center of that incomprehensible phenomenon.

The Demon King stood alone.

It was a dark-skinned man in a leather jacket, his faded blond hair resembling withered weeds. He opened his arms as if to embrace everyone, revealing a cheerful smile.

“That’s great,” said Vansalal. “That’s fantastic.”

"You have overcome the difficulties that have not been overcome for hundreds of years."

The messenger who had been undefeated since the beginning of the wilderness has been slain by you.

Even my resurrected demon army is no match for you now!

Its laughter was like the shrieking of a swarm of bats, and its words, though full of sincere emotion, sent shivers down people's spines. No, in the end, no one had truly heard Vansalal's words; the moment it appeared, everyone's will was thrown into a daze.

Those deep black eyes seemed like the gaping maw of a god, devouring reason and conscience.

"Since the messenger has failed the test and the battle has lost its meaning, I must appear here in person to offer you my sincere blessings."

I sincerely commend you. I admire your perseverance, your determination, your courage to never give up in the face of hardship, and your resilience to still rack your brains for a way out even in the face of despair and pressure.

"Ah, I must admit, I love every single one of you. The 34th generation of warriors made me want to give up, but you have far surpassed your predecessors—you are the greatest warriors since the rebirth of the Despair Wilderness!"

His eyes brimmed with joy, his voice was filled with ecstasy, and laughter filled his entire face. It was undoubtedly genuine; there was not a trace of falsehood in his emotion. It was almost like an apostle's confession to God, like a sinner's worship of a saint.

That is why life is afraid of it.

What is it saying?

Is this person crazy?

The hearts of the audience trembled instinctively.

Why can such sincere words conceal such deep malice?

Incomprehensible. Unable to function. Thought has ceased. Unconsciously, sounds are emitted. The sounds of suffering are heard. Are they one's own? Are they someone else's? The mind is collapsing. The body is unresponsive.

escape.

Run away.

Escape. Leave. Escape, escape, escape, escape, escape, escape, escape, escape, escape—

The Demon King is indifferent to the minds of others.

It simply laughed shrilly, spewing out filthy chants.

To impose one's emotions and fervor on the world without any explanation.

"I will dedicate all my strength to you!"

·

In the desolate western wilderness, in the deep valley beneath the sea.

Fine sand flowed through the church's wooden doors, and a booming sound echoed from the sea of ​​sand. Bernfa stepped out of the church, bewildered.

Perhaps influenced by the ancient battlefield battle, the monk thought that the messengers or warriors had used a wide range of weapons. He prepared to continue his work, but the crying interrupted Bernfa's thoughts.

People are weeping in the fog. Even though the nightmare has been blocked by his mist, desperate cries rise from the crowd.

"There's no need to panic," he tried to calm the crowd. "The aftershocks of the ancient battlefield won't reach here—"

"It's too late!" A slug-like monster stared at it, its small eyes filled with deep despair. "You understand nothing. It's too late. It's starting again. It's starting again!!"

"It's here!!"

An unprecedentedly violent tremor struck, as if the entire world was shaking. Bernfar lost his balance and fell to his knees, his movement mirroring that of the people in the mist, as if he were bowing to some unimaginably vast being. When Bernfar looked up, he saw the moonlight, the blasphemous black moon hanging opposite him. But that was impossible; no matter where he was, the black moon would always hang in the sky.

Their positions had changed. Bernfar realized. The earth had changed. He couldn't stand up; the ground had become a cliff, sand dunes that had accumulated over millennia had collapsed, and white sand swirled like a bone-white avalanche after losing gravity. A tooth-grinding noise echoed from the ends of the earth.

An incomprehensible force is eroding reality; the world itself is changing!

"Sinking to the depths of hell, corrupting the splendor of people's hearts; "

Gathered atop the clear sky, daring to obscure the sun's brilliance.

The chants of the gods reached the ears of all living beings, and a strange change swept across the entire world. People saw a deep blackness, darker than the night sky, deeper than blood. That pitch-black color surged upwards, and the sky disappeared, even the radiance of the black moon vanished.

Only a hazy chaos filled the air, and the earth became a writhing shadow. Countless sorrowful faces emerged from the shadows, singing sacred songs:

O brave one, you who possess courage, you will surely triumph and be adorned in glory!

"The dream of the masses, building a nightmare kingdom;"

"Eternal madness, let it sing the song of hell!"

The world groans in the shadows.

The creatures trembled as the chanting was sung.

Under the darkest night sky, the Demon King raised his hands.

"Divine mind reversal."

"Ode to the Prison Realm: The Land of Despair!"

Thus, the outermost edge of the Heavenly Prison border lies a vast world known as the Wilderness of Despair—

In a physical sense, it has been "reversed".

It's like a sliding panel on a toy box; a child can easily flip the entire panel with a light press of their finger, turning the unremarkable exterior inwards and the new toy back outwards. The Despairing Wilderness is that panel. Until now, both messengers and warriors have only operated on that exposed panel. But now, with the truth revealed and divine hearts reversed, they have turned from the outside in. Beneath the deliberately concealed stage lies the "Land of Despair" ruled by the Demon King!

Mountains and rivers collapsed, the sky sank, up and down were reversed, and the vast land tilted to one side. They fell into darkness, into an endless abyss.

I couldn't feel time, and the concept of space seemed to disappear as well. I wanted to sense the presence of others, but all I felt was endless emptiness. Then, in that agonizing period of thought, things became perceptible.

It was blood, bones, swarms of worms, rotting flames, decaying corpses of the dead, and the despairing eyes of the living. All beings saw in it what they feared, and behind that fear lay the collective terror of all living things. Terror seeped into their flesh, despair polluted their souls, and they fell to the bottom of hell amidst their indiscriminate screams.

The bottom of the abyss is a pitch-black wasteland devoid of life, where corpses and blood pile up to form the earth, and shadows forge a throne of terror. A black forest stands in the wasteland, a cruel instrument of torture forged from steel. Countless corpses hang from it, their withered faces bearing the lingering fear of their former lives.

In the dark world, brown rain falls, like a noose descending from the sky. The strangled corpses hang from the heavens of the Land of Despair, chanting hymns of blessing.

O brave one, you who possess courage, you will surely triumph and be adorned in glory.

"—"

Chu Hengkong wanted to speak, but he couldn't utter a word.

Black needles pierced his mouth and tongue.

He instinctively understood that it was "fear." Fear resides in the hearts of all beings, and even the bravest warrior cannot eradicate it. Because it is a common emotion of all intelligent life, a weakness that even heretics cannot avoid.

In the Land of Despair, fear is the devil's instrument of torture.

He raised his hand, and needles pierced from his palm, from his eyes, from his ears, from his heart, from his bone marrow. He dismembered the flesh, slicing through the spirit, crushing the will. There was no hope, no probability, no miracle; the Demon King's torture destroyed life from its very source.

Through his shattered vision, he saw the others being pierced through the body by the same needles, warriors and messengers alike. The ferociously growing needles of fear, like iron trees, strung their corpses together, subjecting them to crucifixion.

Then, his last remaining fragment of body was worn away by needles. He lost his voice amidst the endless chanting.

Ten seconds after the Nightmare King Vansalal appeared.

Both sides suffered total casualties.

Chapter 211 Emergence into Adult Insect

Come forth, heroes!

The Demon King excitedly raised his arms and roared at the dark world.

"This is the stage for the final battle. Let me see your love and courage!!"

No one responded to him.

The heroes have been executed by dismemberment, leaving only their cold corpses on the gray execution rack.

In the Land of Despair, there is no distinction between friend and foe, and even the envoys who should have followed its lead met the same fate.

Vansalar looked around and saw only corpses and things that had long since ended, with the dead singing hellish songs.