prynovel Chapter 1717 Final Chapter: Crossing the Shore [61] "We are all waiting for your chapter to com
Chapter 1717 Final Chapter: Crossing the Shore [61] "We are all waiting for your chapter to com
Chapter 1717 Final Chapter: The Shore Crossing [61] "We are all waiting for you to come back."
Lu Shu's fighting style was completely different from Su Lin's majestic divine power and Ian's domineering dragon flames. He was like a ghost moving through the gaps in the holy light. Every time he swung his scythe, an angel's wing would be cut off.
"Heretic! Die!" A seraphim wielding a flaming greatsword roared, noticing Lu Shu's threat, and transformed into a blazing white meteor, hurtling straight at Lu Shu. Holy flames condensed on the sword, as if capable of judging all sins in the world.
Lu Shu remained expressionless, his figure disappearing as if blending into the shadows. The next moment, he appeared behind the Archangel, his scythe carrying the chill of death, silently slicing towards the other's neck!
"Who exactly is the heretic..." Lu Shu whispered.
"boom!"
The scythe clashed with the light shield, producing a teeth-grinding scraping sound. The two clashed rapidly in the sky, pitch-black and blazing white light flashing and colliding wildly.
"boom--!!!"
Su Lin looked up and saw the battle in the sky.
With fiery wings rising behind him, he appeared in the center of a magic circle jointly maintained by several cardinals and high-ranking angels.
With a single wave of his hand, ten thousand swords erupted behind him, their light exploding a thousandfold, causing everyone to squint, their hair standing on end in shock. Pure, violent, and endless light, like the sun exploding before their very eyes!
"Arrogance!!!" the cardinals roared in unison, their magic array blazing brightly. However, wherever Su Lin's sword passed, the holy light crumbled as if encountering ice and snow under the scorching sun!
"Snap—"
A crisp cracking sound.
Wherever it passes, all things return to nothingness.
The massive holy light array, like butter sliced by a hot knife, was split in two from its core! The cardinals who maintained the array were struck dumb, spitting out blood burning with holy light from their mouths. Their magnificent priestly robes were instantly charred and torn, their auras weakened, and they were sent flying backward.
The sword falls, the magic array breaks!
On the ground battlefield, more and more races arrived, even evolving into hordes of divine followers. The fastest to descend were wisps of mist carrying an absurd aura.
……
[“The Primal Lord and the First Craftsman”—the retinue of Augustine, the god of chaos—descends here in response to the call of “variability.”]
……
A group of people carrying crosses descended upon this place. They were “wandering sinners”, burdened with twelve punishments. Now, they believed that this tribulation was one of their punishments and came to receive it.
Then came the "Wheel of Destiny," once led by Huimo, a group of black-robed figures descending upon the edge of the abyss under the guidance of an arrogant little girl.
The "Hand of Chaos," dedicated to stirring up trouble all over the world, learned of this and came to fight their own battles.
Cracks opened, releasing grayish-white mist—the most mysterious and ever-changing Chaos Familiars, the "Mist Rift Magicians." They bowed gracefully before joining the battle.
As the call to arms expands, as the message spreads to every corner of the world, and as every player begins to take action... the sheer number of races, allies, and factions becomes overwhelming.
One after another, figures appeared, and various colored lights fell like stars, instantly turning the battlefield into a dazzling spectacle, like a magnificent and dreamlike dream world.
The "Reapers" greedily collect the beautiful eyeballs and entrails scattered on the battlefield, while the followers of the "Tower of Babel" attempt to build a deformed giant tower with the corpses.
The "guardians of fairy tales" prop up a pure realm of fantasy, while the "funnis" jump around on the edge of the battlefield, fanning the flames.
The verbal attacks and endless emoji attacks by "meme addicts," "Iron Man," and "Soybean Man" are a form of mental pollution that leaves people dizzy.
"So many people..." An Dao Hanzi couldn't help but exclaim. This wasn't the battlefield with the most people she had ever seen, but it was definitely the most chaotic battlefield she had ever seen! There were people, non-people, people who looked like people, people who didn't look like people, people who were fighting seriously, people who were picking up scraps, people who were stabbing their own people, people who were collecting corpses, people who were sucking souls, people who were praising the Mother Goddess, people who were helping Wang Xingkong, people who were holding up the sky, people who were selling things, people with schizophrenia, people who were proselytizing, people who were sending emojis, people who were telling fairy tales... all sorts of messy creatures gathered together, making it a dazzling sight.
"Damn it! Are these guys here to help or to cause trouble?! My gauntlets have been stolen!" The bald, burly Rolga couldn't hold back any longer. He was about to throw a punch when he realized his palm was bare; his gauntlets had been taken by some of his followers. He couldn't even tell if it was the "Fun People" who did it for fun, the "Treasure Thieves of the Heavens" who did it to sell for money, or even if the "Law Pirates" and the "Hand of Chaos" were just causing trouble! Those were purple-grade equipment! Rolga's lips twitched, heartbroken.
The next moment, a pair of steel gauntlets suddenly appeared in his hands. Looking up, he saw a cluster of humming, spinning machines. The leading steampunk figure silently nodded to him, then led the machines forward.
“…There are still good people.” Rolga touched the mechanical gauntlets and muttered to himself in a daze.
Suddenly, he realized something and scratched his head: "Isn't the master of these mechanical races the Lord of Steam? I remember him as a stingy capitalist. They're going to join the war?"
"Right, did I just hear wrong?" An Dao Hanzi gripped the bird staff tightly, stunned. "I think I heard the God of Contracts, Derrick Candoril... Isn't the God of Contracts Veridodo? Isn't Derrick one of our top players?"
You must have misheard me!
"I didn't!"
"Holy crap, did Derrick kill the god and take the throne? That's awesome!"
"Who is the god worshipped by the Machine Race? It seems to be the steam god Lattimore. Could that god also be one of us?"
"Wait, listen again..."
People listened attentively—
……
[The pilgrim of Lin Jiang, the Goddess of Trade and the embodiment of the Golden Scales and the Law of Equivalence, arrives to aid in the battle, following the laws of trade!]
……
[“The World Wide Web and Data Network” – the eleventh generation of the Internet’s masters, responding to the call of connectivity, comes to the rescue!]
……
[The craftsman of Anthony, the "Poet of Bronze and Iron" and the god of steam, has come to aid in the battle, commanded by his deity!]
……
[The messenger of the "Wheel of Flourishing and Decline," the nature angel Mayani, has come to aid in the battle in response to the rhythm of "balance"!]
……
[The servant of Angel, the "Father of a Thousand Rock Layers" and the Archangel of the Earth, has come to aid in the battle in the name of "Bearing"!]
……
[The messenger of Angelica, the "knowledge guide" and angel of wisdom, responds to the glimmer of "truth" and comes to lend a hand!]
……
[“The Trumpeter of the End,” the vanguard of the War Angel Kennini, responds to the call of “war” and arrives to lend his aid!]
……
[The "Jar of Grapes and Harvests"—the angel of harvest, Sherry, has come to aid in the battle, following the prayer for "abundance"!]
……
For a moment, the players' minds went blank.
Lin Jiang, Eleven, Anthony, Meyani...
When did the names of the gods change?
"Damn it!" Xining slapped his motorcycle, realizing what was going on. "I was wondering why I hadn't seen any of those big-name players like Anthony on either side of the battlefield. Turns out they were all secretly plotting something big!"
This is the true vision of top-ranked players; they don't get bogged down in petty skirmishes, but immediately target god-level opponents. All the top-ranked players unite as one, emulating Isabella's challenge to a god. At this crucial moment, they directly issue orders in their divine capacity, summoning all their followers to provide support. In an instant, the battle between the players and a portion of the Rovasa people has expanded into a battle for the entire Rovasa.
At this moment, the clouds in the sky were painted by an invisible giant brush, and the "painters" changed the colors and flow, bringing down acid rain and stirring up tearing winds.
The earth churned, and countless resilient plants burst forth. The "reclaimers" and elegant elves emerged from the shadows of the Moonlit Forest, their arrows as cold and precise as moonlight.
The figures of the "zither players" are both real and illusory, and the faint sound of their instruments flows through the air. They pluck the strings, causing the threads of fate to become dizzy and disoriented.
The "Mechanical Regiment" marched forward in perfect unison, crushing steel and iron, blood and fire.
Under the command of the gods, rules abound. The battlefield transformed into a bizarre and surreal spectacle—dragons arrived from the distant Dragon Island, spreading their membranous wings and soaring into the sky; sirens stood atop the waves, their songs soaring like the shattering of silver bottles; the undead army became an advancing, greyish-white tide, death knights rode nightmare beasts in a charge, and a sea of zombies crashed against the ramparts with their decaying bodies…
Within the Celestial race, the orthodox Seraphim legions responded to the call of the Radiant Mother. Those Celestials who answered the call of other gods joined the coalition supporting the Abyss. Thus, the strange spectacle of angels battling angels appeared in the sky. Similar wings, similar radiance, yet wielding drastically different weapons, fighting for opposing faiths. Holy swords clashed, divine spells clashed, and pure white feathers and pale golden blood rained down.
At the heart of everything, in the center of the abyss, Wang Xingkong stood amidst the darkness with his little garden.
He desperately pressed himself against the door, gripping the edge with both hands, trying to shout into the abyss:
“…Su Ming'an…!”
"Can you hear me...!"
"Is there a vacuum over there...? Do I need a signal?"
He kept rubbing it, using various props to transform his voice, and throwing them all into it.
Finally, after several attempts, it seemed there was a response inside.
……
"—Su Ming'an!!!"
Suddenly, Su Ming'an heard a signal-like call.
"We...are outside...trying to...send...messages..."
【"persist in……"】
【"come on……"】
The signal was coming in intermittently.
……
Wang Xingkong couldn't receive any signals from Su Ming'an; he could only relay messages one-way. But the best part was—there were live chat comments! The live streams had been merged, and all viewers could see the live chat comments from Su Ming'an's side. Wang Xingkong could send messages, and the responses would be displayed in the chat, ensuring a two-way exchange of information!
The only pity is that Wang Xingkong is not a player and cannot see the bullet comments. He can only know the real-time situation of the bullet comments by referring to players in the distance.
"...The great Su Ming'an has made it to the seventh round of the game!" Player Qiuqiu shouted from the edge of the abyss.
Upon hearing this, Wang Xingkong's eyes lit up: "Where's Chen Yuhang? What's the situation with Chen Yuhang?"
A player named Qiuqiu shouted from afar, "Chen Yuhang has been guaranteed a spot!"
...And he even got a guaranteed admission! Wang Xingkong was dumbfounded, never expecting his good buddy to be so favored...
He immediately asked the rest of the escort team, "Where's Hang Xin? Where's her mother? Where are Xiao Xiao and Wang Zhenzhen? Where's Si Nian?"
Qiuqiu waved her hand repeatedly.
Wang Xingkong knew he had asked too many questions, so he quickly said into the communicator, "Lin Yin, I'll continue sending messages! What message do you need to send?"
Lin Yin's voice came through the communicator: "Tell Su Ming'an about our current situation. The situation in the 'now' timeline is unclear. We don't know how long Yamada Machiichi can hold on. Also! Tell him not to hesitate and to persevere! Whatever the future may be, it's a future we'll create together!"
The Radiant Mother Goddess is attempting to intervene in this world, and her interference will grow stronger. If Su Ming'an fails to awaken the Demon Mother Goddess in time, the outside world will gradually crumble. Although Su Lin, Lu Shu, and others can unleash their power to hold on, ordinary people will not be able to. Moreover... the Seventh Seat, who created this dream, has yet to appear.
"Okay...!" Knowing the importance of time, Wang Xingkong immediately started talking to the stone. This was a "communication stone," a tool that could store sound and convert it into information, usable in environments where sound couldn't travel. Wang Xingkong had just successfully used this stone to send a message, although the success rate was very low, and he didn't know where it would land if he threw it in, but even if just one stone rolled to Su Ming'an's side and he could hear it, it would be a success!
"Continue... I can hold on..." Blood trickled from the corner of Wang Xingkong's mouth, his body trembling from the limit, but his eyes grew brighter and brighter, and a pile of unused "communication stones" lay at his feet. With blood still dripping from his mouth, he repeated the words, entered the stones, and threw them heavily into the doorway.
The Blue Mist Man stood silently beside him, watching him without offering any help or intervention.
One, one, and another.
The stones grew fuller and fuller, and Wang Xingkong threw them one by one into the doorway.
"...We can hold out for at most two more hours. The situation is unclear. Su Lin and Lü Shu are outside...The Seventh Seat hasn't shown up! Brother Ming'an, you have to hang in there...cough cough!"
"...Cough, cough cough cough!"
"Brother Ming'an...this world...everyone is fighting...you...you must come back!!"
……
"—Brother Ming'an!"
Su Ming'an turned around in the night rain.
He seemed to hear someone's voice, indistinct and unclear, filled with urgent expectation.