Huh? Are they all real?...

"Although it was caused by devouring all culture and life without leaving a trace, if it were me..."

"I wouldn't be so lacking in aesthetics."

"I will bleach everything into a neat, endless, snow-white wasteland."

"Only scattered dilapidated buildings remain to let people know that a brilliant civilization once existed here."

This is just a recollection and a joke by Moen, a wandering traveler, about the past.

But the evil dragon swallowed hard.

No, do all you supreme beings play this big?

It didn't think Moen was joking or being sarcastic; it genuinely believed that Moen could actually do it.

It wanted to wipe the cold sweat from its forehead, but it found that its arms were too short to reach its head.

So it had no choice but to give up and instead said:

"Um, I don't really understand, but all I need to do is provide my own blood, right?"

"Yes, Mr. Pound."

"So, approximately how much will it cost?"

Although it sounds terrifying to have someone use their own blood to carve ritual symbols.

But the evil dragon still felt that, given its size, it shouldn't be a big problem for someone to draw a ritual.

Perhaps it's just like a regular blood test where a little blood is drawn?

But Moen's answer was:

"Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Pound. Don't worry, you'll only be weak for a while. After all, even if your body has lost all its power due to the departure of the evil dragon essence, it was still once a dragon."

It instantly sensed something was wrong and said:

"Um, how much blood do you want me to bleed?"

Moen pointed to the large flat area beneath his feet and said:

"That should be enough to fill this flat area."

Upon hearing this, Pound Heather was just like Jim Carrey when he first met the female lead in The Mask.

They all displayed their mouths and eyes in an extremely exaggerated way.

This made Moen admire the original's portrayal of dragons even more. He originally thought they were all expressionless, but it turned out that it was just the dragons themselves who were aloof.

Aside from dragons, the only other creature Moen could think of that could produce such an expressive effect was a subspecies of slime like Ditto.

When it got to afternoon.

The enormous magic circle was thus formed under Moen's design.

In the ditch beside the magic circle lay the evil dragon, which looked like a dead dog.

Neither Moen nor the goddess paid any attention to it, since it wouldn't die anyway.

They just continued with their own things.

As Moen walked toward the center of the magic circle.

The inscriptions carved in blood lit up one after another.

Moen glanced at the most crucial parts.

Surprisingly, yet logically, they all lit up, meaning that the three-headed dragons had touched almost everything that Moen had left behind on the New World that was absolutely inedible.

That's absolutely suicidal.

Standing in the center of the magic circle, Moen said to the goddess:

“I’m sorry, Denise, you can’t go, because it’s a godless world. Your presence will bring everything to an end, and everything swallowed up by them will never come back.”

They devour everything in order to ascend to godhood, so the world they create is naturally unable to bear the arrival of gods.

The goddess frowned slightly and said:

"Does that mean you have to go alone?"

Moen smiled, then shook his head and said:

"No, no. So, Denise, give me the Holy Lance!"

This time, Moen will not rely on compromise to restrain himself from moving forward as he has done before.

Even in a world without gods, it will still be Moen's home turf.

After all, the Holy Lance is the Holy Lance, and a god is a god.

It could even be said that even in the hands of Denise, who manifested the Holy Lance, the Holy Lance was far less powerful than it was in the hands of Moen.

Because Denise is the Holy Lance itself, and Moen is its master, and that has been the case from the beginning.

Chapter 315 A Gathering Place Where Countless Eras Meet

So, can Holy Lance really be separated from Denise?

The answer is both yes and no.

Because Denise is both the Holy Lance and the Goddess of Storms, that's why she was protecting Morne while confronting the Holy Tree last night.

But only Moen, the owner of the Holy Lance, could achieve such a separation.

Denise, having understood Moen's meaning, stopped trying to dissuade him.

Giving the Holy Lance to Moen is no different than her being right beside Moen.

So Denise handed the Holy Lance horizontally to Moen.

And so the Holy Lance completed this utterly ordinary yet supremely sacred handover.

The radiance beneath Moen's feet burst forth with an unprecedented brilliance.

When the light faded and the blood burned away.

Moen thus completed the invasion.

Only the goddess of storms stood alone in place.

A moment later, the goddess of storms raised an eyebrow and looked up.

As the king departed, the cold, dark moon appeared in the sky, though it was obscured by the sun's radiance and was not as bright as it would be at night.

But it is still clearly visible.

After a brief eye contact, the goddess of storms revealed a very rare, provocative smile.

Dark Moon seemed to have seen it, yet it also seemed not to have.

Because she made no comment.

-

And in that chaotic world that arose from the devouring of the three-headed blasphemous dragon.

Buildings and people from different eras and cultures look at each other with incomprehension.

They all knew very well that something was definitely wrong.

Because they not only saw countless buildings that did not belong to their understanding, they even saw a city folded up like a cylinder overhead.

The familiar sky and sun are long gone.

The only thing that remains is the increasingly chaotic stacked layers of buildings.

Some superhumans can even see people above them looking at them with the same astonishment.

Even though the original governing bodies have been completely disrupted by all this strangeness.

But those who knew something was definitely wrong quickly organized a team to find out what was going on.

As they continued to move forward, they became increasingly certain of their previous assumptions.

That is, they really do come from different eras.

While it's not unusual for people from three hundred years ago to talk to people from three thousand years ago, it's still quite astonishing if it happens all the time.

Through their general exchange, they also determined one thing: the furthest point they could reach was the end of the Second Age.

That is, when the Blood Dynasty was still raging, and when the later Moon King, the Piercer Zebes, had not yet led the Blood Saintess away from the dynasty.

The latest was when Lionheart returned in the Fourth Age.

I don’t know if this counts as an advantage of the God-King world, but if you want to roughly determine what era a person belongs to, you just need to ask them about the most famous God-King of that time and the corresponding events.

In a world where gods truly exist, knowing the glory of the supreme being is a compulsory course from childhood.

Otherwise, if you accidentally call the wrong deity or the corresponding king during prayer, it could lead to serious trouble.

As they advanced, they could no longer see many cities above or around them.

All that exists is vast jungle and the occasional dilapidated building.

After glancing at his pocket watch, the leader asked:

"When was the last time we saw a new building?"

"It's been almost two hours, what happened?"

The dwarf from the Third Age replied somewhat displeased, because the leader was an elf.

The other person pricked up their long, thin ears and said:

"Although it was chaotic, the wind in the air told me that something was approaching. It was something very dangerous."

Upon hearing this, the people who had temporarily formed a team hurriedly picked up their weapons.

The dwarf, cursing and swearing, raised his enormous battle axe, a head taller than himself, and said:

"Next time, say something like this earlier! You long-eared devil, you can't even tell what's important!"

"So, did your Laosenzi's wind tell you where the enemy came from?"

The elf bowed slightly and said:

“I’m sorry, but the winds and elements from different eras make it difficult for me to hear the voice of nature.”

Immediately, he turned to the left and pulled up the tree bow he had been carrying:

"However, I'm certain there's someone here, only one, and their identity is unknown."

As soon as the words were spoken, the arrow in the elf's hand flew away and disappeared into the forest in the blink of an eye.

"How did it go? Did you hit it?"

The dwarf, holding his battle axe, walked behind the elf, asking questions as he prepared to use his axe as a shield to protect him and the elf.

"No."

"Ha! Don't you long-eared people all claim that your bows are unerring? You're a disgrace to long-eared people!"

The elf ignored the dwarf's insults and simply put down his bow.

"Because I didn't aim at him. Come out, I already know you're no longer a threat."

Then, a man dressed as a scholar emerged shakily from the woods, his hands raised high.

That arrow just grazed his scalp.

Although he wasn't hurt, it was really terrifying.

"I, I, I'm just an ordinary person, I, I don't know anything!"

The elf asked him:

“I’m sorry for what I did, but I’m sure you saw what was going on above you and know that none of this is normal, so I hope you understand, and I want to ask you a question.”

"That is, what is the most important event in your memory? Preferably something that happened recently."

The scholar paused for a moment before saying:

"Um, does the return of the Moon King count?"

"The Moon King returns, the White King falls in battle?"