Chapter 329: The Fourth Catastrophe (6200)

"Tenzan Lixiang! Anomaly detected."

DaDa Liya's image appeared, and through the newly established signal, she saw the anomaly in the sky—the seemingly opened world of swords.

Tenzan Lixiang asked in surprise: "What is that? A Fixed Realm?"

But she received no answer; a new variable suddenly emerged.

Golden ripples spread, and thousands of gates of Wang Zhi's Treasure opened simultaneously, firing a storm of golden light around the sword world.

The Golden King, contrary to his usual behavior, no longer avoided battle—he rode the "Vimana" toward the sword-wielding figure at the center.

A vast aura emanated from Weigong Shilang, an aura familiar to Tenzan Lixiang and the Servants present.

It was the aura of a god.

Power surged from his body.

The heavenly treasures and sacred herbs he had consumed in Ye Fan's world, the divine springs and holy medicines, were fully digested during his fall into black mud.

Perhaps it was because he had never suffered such severe injuries, or perhaps because the Dao Seed within him, in his desperate state, drew upon every possible force to sustain life—the latent spiritual essence hidden in his flesh, yet unrefined, was consumed.

Yi Zhu zhifash

Flesh and organs were nourished, his pulse grew stronger; only when his five senses, long blocked by black mud, fully revived did Weigong Shilang examine his current state.

Sacred swords, demonic swords, immortal swords stood arrayed within, endless silver radiance exuding coldness; waves of sword qi surged, a horizon of flame continuously opened, leaving only weapons on the scorched earth.

"Ocean of Suffering. Life Spring."

"This is my manifestation. Do I have one too?"

Weigong Shilang had never imagined this—his Ocean of Suffering had successfully opened, and as the medicinal power within was refined, it continuously spewed forth, connecting with his Life Wheel and releasing a divine spring.

The mysterious art recorded in the Dao Jing activated; the method etched into his mind gained energy, uncontrollable, as if instinctive—divine power within him flowed like a gentle stream, spreading to his limbs.

For a complete ancient sect, their assets might still fall short.

But with such an overwhelming, one-sided infusion of resources, plus precious spiritual fruits and herbs from countless worlds, Han Li even used his Palm of Heaven Vase to establish the Xianzhi Farming Base on Water Mirror Peak.

A quick glance reveals that, aside from critical breakthroughs, the Holy Sects' Holy Sons and Holy Daughters never ate as well as this group from the chat group—they wasted precious spiritual plants like fruit, occasionally even enjoying Su Lin's immortal wine and Enlightenment Tea.

Since Li Huowang joined, Enlightenment Tea has been half self-service.

It's less about innate talent and more about accumulated foundations exploding at this moment—opening the Ocean of Suffering alone equated to years of others' arduous cultivation.

No time to think—Weigong Shilang's body was covered in sword light, his mind instantly plunged into a void-like state; as the sword qi waves of his Ocean of Suffering crashed, the swords in his manifestation grew more real, glowing with a chilling, soul-piercing coldness.

Divine power covered every inch of his body; he now resembled a god, sword shadows appearing behind him everywhere—just one glance made one feel the blade would sever one's very soul.

Moments later, a radiant "vessel" formed of gold and emerald, soaring through the sky, shed its invisibility and sped toward him, ignoring physical laws.

Golden ripples spread, followed by a suffocating barrage of Noble Phantasms.

In the golden storm, every weapon launched was an A-rank, including several weapons of major gods; seizing the moment, the king atop the Vimana pulled the control lever, launching an ancient nuclear warhead from the cargo bay.

Under this assault, the stakes had nothing to do with the Holy Grail War's rank—even a top-tier Servant at full power, lacking a special Noble Phantasm, would surely perish under such sudden onslaught.

At the four cardinal directions of the city, four distinct royal divine weapons, pre-deployed within an array, were activated; array runes nearby, using divine sources as mediums, began to function—the city's space itself seemed split in half, severed at the waist.

Scorching light and violent explosions were sealed off in the sky, the rainbow glow dazzlingly brilliant.

"Good thing I pre-deployed the runes, but this hardly counts as a covert operation."

Wild winds raged; the partially activated Bai Yu Shield and the other four royal divine weapons circled Weigong Shilang, divine power shaped into a sword in his hand, sword qi surging to sweep away the explosive force.

Weigong Shilang's eyes blazed with sword light as he slowly spoke: "No more running, Hero-King?"

"Hah!" Gilgamesh laughed loudly, seated high on the Vimana, his expression thrilled, as if witnessing something immensely fascinating: "Running? That's called strategic retreat, Faker! The path you've chosen has made this far from boring!"

"What an honor." Weigong Shilang nodded, reaching out to take a longbow, placing the Zi Yu Sword upon it: "Then you've seen it too—the judgment approaching you."

"Stop talking nonsense. Even gods cannot judge me." Gilgamesh rose from the Vimana, stepped to the edge of the radiant vessel, and drew a long sword from Wang Zhi's Treasure; he grinned:

"You, an unstable element, are like a catfish—pressuring this whole group of dead fish!"

"Compared to the predetermined, eternal, meaningless ending, your actions along this main path may forge an even worse end."

"But it doesn't matter!"

The Golden King pointed his sword at Weigong Shilang, who had drawn his bow in the sky below.

"Even if you're destined to be judged, revel fully in this endless revelry! Perhaps you'll struggle into something interesting—hahahaha!"

"You're wrong, Hero-King." Weigong Shilang's expression remained unchanged, the bowstring taut, the sword sheathed in solid divine power; his eyes blazed with sword light, his aura merging with the sword upon the bow: "The ideal I've forged will surely come true!"

Whether in a hundred years, or a thousand! Even the Suppressing Force cannot stop it!

The moment the bowstring released, all divine power within him was emptied—the sword, wreathed in hazy colored mist, pierced through layer upon layer of defenses.

Fantasy Break!

A colossal beam of light, interwoven with the unleashed Dao and Reason, shot straight into the heavens, vanishing into the black cosmos.

Weigong Shilang frowned, his face devoid of triumph—he felt Gilgamesh was strange, as if he had deliberately come to die.

Weigong Manor.

To question Weigong Shilang, Tozan Rixiang had arrived early, but he merely went home, made dinner, then vanished—nowhere to be found all day.

She had intended to return home, but Illya's smug smile before she left left her oddly irritated, so she took Kiriya Sakura and stayed on.

Still, she hadn't expected Weigong Shilang to not return past midnight, so she went to bed early.

When Weigong Shilang returned, exhausted, from Liu Dong Temple, it was already 2 a. m.

His room and Illya's were separated by a corridor; upon returning, he noticed her light still on—he walked in to find her still awake, fuming.

"Always hiding in densely populated areas? That's clearly calculating we'd hesitate to harm civilians!" Illya hugged her pillow, furious:

"The Heavenly Chains are also troublesome—Berserker's divinity is high; even if he regains sanity, he'll still be suppressed."

"In the end, I couldn't help at all."

"You've helped me a great deal." Weigong Shilang smiled, ruffling Illya's hair: "Illya, go to sleep early tonight."

Illya glanced at Weigong Shilang, pouted, yanked his hand, and flopped onto the tatami, then switched off the bedside lamp.

"Illya?"

"Shilang, sleep with me!"

Wei Gong Shilang collapsed onto the quilt; despite his objections, the girl pulled him into her arms without hesitation.

The faint scent of orchid drifted into his nostrils, making his already weary body want to close his eyes.

"I originally wanted to help Shilang solve his troubles, but before I knew it, Shilang had grown so strong."

Unlike usual, Dada Liya gently patted Wei Gong Shilang's back, as if soothing him—or like comforting a child.

"Are you tired, Shilang?"

Tired?

The appearance of Chaldea had shattered his original plans; Wei Gong Shilang, only now recognizing his own uniqueness, had to consider his next path.

"It's fine—just wait until this Holy Grail War ends," Wei Gong Shilang slowly closed his eyes and whispered: "It won't be long. Then, let's go play in other worlds together."

"Can we really end this unharmed?" Dada Liya rested her chin on Wei Gong Shilang's forehead and murmured: "If it comes to a point where there's no other choice, Shilang, abandon me and leave for another world."

"Idiot." Wei Gong Shilang forced his weary eyes open, pulled Dada Liya into his arms, swapped their positions, then closed his eyes again and said: "Leave it to me. Nothing will happen."

The moonlight was hazy and intoxicating; the girl in his arms smiled faintly at his words and fell silent.

On the mist-shrouded Water Mirror Peak, lush trees thrived, cascading springs and waterfalls flowed, and the lake surface mirrored the sky like a polished mirror.

Su Lin stood upon the lake's surface; occasionally, petals, blown down by the cold high-altitude wind, rippled the water with tiny waves. Around him, clouds and mist rolled and spread, while the Sands of Time formed a golden thread that drifted like a ribbon.

Everything seemed frozen—until the golden thread gradually lost its color, turned transparent, and vanished. Thunder rumbled continuously from the sky.

A landscape ink painting materialized in empty space: clouds and mist swirled, towering mountains rose, sun and moon shared the heavens, ancient trees towered, and a silver waterfall plunged from the ninth heaven. A clear human figure stepped out from within the painting.

It was Su Lin—his form now filled the entire sky within the ink painting. In his hand, he held a radiant sun radiating boundless light. Countless rays bent and twisted, weaving and entwining, forming behind him a colossal tree of pure white radiance, as if Yuanshi Tianzun had descended.

"Achieved it. Though I expected it." Su Lin looked up at the familiar yet alien phenomenon, his acupoints inhaling and exhaling spiritual energy as it converged within his body: "Long time no see."

This phenomenon appeared when he condensed his Jin Dan and underwent the tribulation. At that time, the cosmic truths brought by the Divine Light Grail perfectly aligned with his cultivation of Gu Tianwang's scripture. Even though he later switched sects, the phenomenon vanished like a fleeting bloom—but Gu Tianwang had indeed laid a solid foundation for his cultivation.

Now, Su Lin's body could be said to be divided into three realms: separated by the Eternal Furnace Core, the "Dharma Body," "Jin Dan," and "Nascent Soul" coexisted without interference, each cultivating independently. Other magical arts were left unprocessed—after all, he could use them anyway.

It was a strange sensation: an unimaginable information-processing method kept the different Dao paths sharply distinct, eliminating fear of mutual interference from learning too many techniques. Yet if he wished, he could extract insights from each to forge a new path.

"Your turn." Su Lin prepared to summon his "Nascent Soul" to stack the Sea of Suffering for an overcharge summoning.

Thus, a vast sea appeared, seemingly containing every color and possibility. Its surface was covered in gray-white mist, ebbing and flowing. From the mist and sea emerged a figure cloaked in a hood, face unseen.

"Act."

He intended to make these two "Jin Dan" and "Nascent Soul" control their phenomena and fight each other, to see what these two were truly capable of.

But before he could find a good vantage point to watch, an application to enter a world interrupted his action.

Su Lin waved his hand—the two phenomena vanished instantly. A blue teleportation gate opened beside him.

"I just remembered—you're not the administrator anymore." Wei Gong Shilang stepped out, holding a wooden tray: "Lunch today. Is Kleine in this world? I made him a portion too."

"..." Su Lin froze, staring at the tray in Wei Gong Shilang's hands, unsure what to say.

"What's wrong?" Wei Gong Shilang glanced around, placing the dishes on a stone table by the lake, puzzled:

"I promised to submit dishes to the system, so I made you one too. Today's dish: butter-seared Xiongjiao meat with Biyuan fruit sauce, plus a salad made from vegetables grown in Licheng Village, Liyue. Don't you like it?"

"It's fine." Su Lin looked at the dishes—he hadn't expected this man to bring them personally. This routine of meals at set times reminded him of his university dorm and his dorm supervisor.

He walked from the lake to shore. A peach blossom landed precisely atop the mound of rice. He picked up his chopsticks and forked a piece of beast meat into his mouth.

"You don't have to bring it every day," Su Lin chewed the Xiongjiao meat—it dissolved in his mouth, even better than cod. In a daze, he found himself in the deep ocean, where a jiao beast stared at him.

He shook his head violently—yet still found himself on Water Mirror Peak.

What was that just now?

Su Lin stared blankly at the Xiongjiao meat on the plate—identical to ordinary food—and fell into thought.

His chopsticks trembled slightly as he picked up another portion of vegetable salad and put it in his mouth.

Instantly, the morning air of Tian Ye was fresh and damp; a rising sun appeared in the east.

Is this a bit beyond logic? So "Chinese Chef" is a documentary?

"Just keep bringing it every day—don't forget breakfast either," Su Lin set down his chopsticks and smiled: "Keep these meals for now. Once the new administrator is chosen, I'll just come straight to your place."

Wei Gong Shilang nodded and grinned: "Glad it suits your taste."

Then, Wei Gong Shilang shared the reward he'd received yesterday: a secret manual detailing how to restore vitality to ingredients—requiring constant spiritual energy washing, a painstaking process.

After Su Lin finished eating, Wei Gong Shilang tidied up and prepared to return to his own world.

"Don't rush," Su Lin took a leaf of flowing Shanhe Dao-essence Wu Dao Tea (True) and steeped it in a purple clay teapot, placing the pot on a nearby stove: "How did your blessing run out?"

Wei Gong Shilang smiled awkwardly: "It's a bit complicated."

"No need to explain." Su Lin propped his chin on his hand and pulled two cups from a rift in history: "Don't mind if I check the historical records? I recall your sword carried a Divine Eye."

"Of course." Wei Gong Shilang pulled out the sword he had forged.

Su Lin flicked his finger—a pupil-shaped mark emerged, floating from the blade. He caught the mark and examined what had occurred.

"If I'd been there, you could've streamed it," Su Lin sighed, looking at Wei Gong Shilang: "In an anime, this episode would've gained millions of fans—it even got me fired up."

"But you really went too far—daring to wade into black mud, using your resurrection artifact and spell to grant Officer Angela the personality of Mannequin."

You really dared to take on the accumulated evil karma of an entire planet.

Still, Su Lin felt awe—Wei Gong Shilang was pushing himself too hard. Clearing the black mud wasn't impossible, yet he chose to save both the mud and the inner Officer Angela Mannequin.

"Everyone has limits," Su Lin warned: "Though I shouldn't say this, if you truly reach your limit or the danger level exceeds safety thresholds, think of yourself too."

"I know," Wei Gong Shilang nodded: "I'm just doing my best."

"Then good. It'd be a shame if this rare sister-line route ended in a bad ending," Su Lin smiled faintly: "What do you plan to do? Give all the Servants physical bodies and turn it into a fantasy carnival?"

Wei Gong Shilang pretended not to hear the previous remark and replied: "If any Servant wishes to stay, I'll give them physical bodies, following their will."

In that case, the heroes could begin a second life in the modern world. If they refuse, any excess magical energy from the purified Holy Grail could be granted to them.

"But in your current state, Human History will become an obstacle," Su Lin lifted the teapot and urged: "Just manifest as the Sin of Humanity outright. After this one job, even Alaya will be warming your bed."

"Don't joke—that's the Suppressing Force," Wei Gong Shilang forced a smile, fell silent for a moment, then looked at the cup of Wu Dao Tea and asked: "If it were you, what would you do right now?"

"If it were me, I'd do nothing—thirty-six strategies, escape as the best." Kleine's figure appeared beside him; after sitting down, he glanced at the still-steaming meal on the table and slowly picked out individual peach blossoms, but soon realized something was off:

"Hey, Su, this is a historical projection—where's my share? I don't eat deceptive meals."

"Why not develop when you have the time? Of course, that's just my personal opinion."

Foolish gate, shadow play won't work—Su Lin sighed slightly, opened a small space, and took out his own portion.

"For me, happiness matters most." Su Lin lifted his teacup, took a sip, and said:

"Both I and this guy beside me used to be salary slaves; you're a student, so you probably don't get it—sorry, I forgot you're one too."

"I can't preach big truths, but every day of my life now, I'm happy—no worries about aging, sickness, or death, no concerns over pension, medical insurance, housing fund, mortgage, social pressure, or the 996 work schedule—damn it, just thinking about these makes me feel bad. Tonight, let's go hang two heartless companies that don't pay overtime on streetlights."

"You see? Do as you please. My planet doesn't have nearly as many problems as yours."

Weigong Shilang smiled: "That's true—everyone's thoughts and circumstances are different."

"Your planet's consciousness and humanity's collective unconscious can interfere with parallel timelines and temporal axes. Even if you blew up Earth on this worldline, it wouldn't matter—you're stuck between both sides with no means of an alien deity." Su Lin said to Weigong Shilang:

"Be careful—you might end up getting pulled into the Chaldea gacha."

"Can the Devouring Sect of Ten Thousand Realms really be chased around? Where's our credibility?" Kleine returned from the illusion, glanced at his empty plate, and felt a pang of disappointment:

"Master, use your invincible—"

Before he could finish, a baguette tore through space and shoved itself into Kleine's mouth.

"You have zero awareness of your own stupid mouth—next time I hear those words, I'll sew it shut." Su Lin's temples throbbed as he used a light technique to immobilize Kleine's body:

"Why not hold your Fool's Ascension Ritual in Type-Moon? Maybe Yog-Sothoth and Nyarlathotep will come meet you, this Azathoth!"

"Haha…" Weigong Shilang didn't know why, but he felt his current appearance—rejected by the Counterforce—looked exactly like a villain's.

Kleine, expressionless, swallowed the baguette piece by piece, like a circus magician's trick, though it wasn't tasty:

"You could just send a few projections or clones over—as long as you don't show yourself."

"We're already being watched anyway. By the time the Counterforce fully activates its response mechanism, Weigong Shilang might already be exposed. In short, if the entities behind the Chaldea Servants intervene, they'll face some initial restrictions—so why not give him some time to escape?"

"I misunderstood you." Su Lin patted Kleine's clothes apologetically: "I thought you'd been playing too many games lately, wasting your time and dumbing yourself down into a Fool."

"Then what else?" Kleine adjusted his suit with a practiced smile: "Do you really think I want you to directly invade Type-Moon? Unless you're a player, that's impossible."

Su Lin froze. "Did you forget something?"

Kleine asked: "What and what?"

Seeing he couldn't recall, Su Lin realized this guy had probably blacked out from last time's drinking—he pulled from his system inventory a metallic object forged from an unknown alloy.

"I really do have the Fourth Catastrophe Simulation Device."

Four thousand words per chapter—can six thousand two hundred count as half a chapter paid back?

(End of Chapter)