Chapter 602: The Cultivators Are Released

"Projection, load."

Weigong Shilang frowned, struggling to project several artifacts: "Fantasy Break, empower."

The inevitability of the Crimson Hunting Hounds, the causal spear Piercing Dead Thorns, the Law-Annihilating Array of Ten Thousand Symbols, the Qingzhu Bee Cloud Sword's Exorcising Thunder—all mysteries and properties are bestowed upon the atomic fission reactor sword!

"All engineering complete!"

Crimson light twisted causality, relentlessly hunting its target, until it exploded in the utmost yang, hardest thunder.

Continuous shards of swords rained like a downpour, carrying fused mystery and law into the products of modern science; cries and wails echoed endlessly.

Yet even so, a group of figures sprinted out from the mushroom cloud, coordinating with one another, converging, and using various means to encircle Stark Tower and the Holy Sanctuary.

Even if supernatural powers are suppressed in this world, they remain among the strongest of the current generation.

"I've been to the Type-Moon scenario before—this Weigong Shilang is overdoing it, right?!"

"That's the Supreme Sword Sect from the quest!!!"

"Why can he still unleash this level of power? I need to burn a star domain just to cast a fireball spell?!"

"He's got the Holy Grail's favor—unlimited mana, you idiot!"

"Were the quest data from the Reincarnation Space just insane gibberish?!"

It felt like farming a boss—if not for their numbers, the Marvel Universe quest would've been upgraded to a world-level mission; it's unimaginable how anyone could fight under these conditions.

Though I can feel the power being exerted is slowly increasing over time, how long until it reaches anything useful?!

Yet across from them, even within this unique environment, he can still unleash artifact attacks.

In one-on-one combat, victory is virtually impossible.

Despite every team's Reincarnators being stunned after reading those details, utterly unwilling to get involved in a mission of this caliber.

But according to current intel, these targets haven't regained their full world-destroying power—they can only manifest their true strength within the 'New World'?

With numerical superiority, we must at least try.

Not expecting ants to kill an elephant, just seeking to exploit the current environment to gather more intelligence.

Focus on determining whether the 'Primary Target·God of Iron' version of Su Tuoni exists in this universe; if the God of Iron exists on this timeline, then later find a way to manifest here without the Holy Grail ritual.

In fact, as one of the stable supply worlds in the Reincarnation Space's inventory, even a rookie team's first mission might randomly be assigned to the Marvel Universe.

But teams that, immediately after the Reincarnation Space issues a quest, find clues and join the Holy Grail War—those are at least S-rank or higher.

Only at this level are tasks like 'Time Hunter'/'Time Defender' and 'I Am Legend' routinely issued.

"Stop hiding—pull out everything you've got!" a Reincarnator shouted.

But it's useless.

No one would actually listen to him.

The maximum risk anyone can afford right now is for each team to send one or two members—or a Servant—to join the siege; that way, even if casualties occur, total annihilation is avoided, and covert support remains possible.

"There's definitely something inside the dragon vein of the Holy Sanctuary."

"Hold on a little longer!"

Arriving at the battlefield, reaching consensus, splitting into two paths, ready to stab each other in the back—that's the efficiency and fragile trust among Reincarnator teams in large-scale missions.

From one neighborhood to another, slowly revealing their cards, gradually forming an encirclement.

As some Reincarnators had predicted, even with Holy Grail privileges allowing action in this environment, Weigong Shilang's true power is still significantly lacking—or this special anti-magic environment imposes restrictions on him.

Otherwise, casualties wouldn't be this low.

That's fine.

Just as many Reincarnators quietly rejoiced, the Holy Sanctuary—the publicly known dragon vein of the multiverse Earth—emitted ten thousand rays of golden light, as if surrounded by stars, flying out from within the sanctuary.

A golden chalice forged in majesty, the omnipotent wish-granter.

The Holy Grail?!

Under the brilliant radiance, everyone held their breath; greed, curiosity, longing—emotions overflowed in their eyes.

"Watch out—"

Drip. Drip.

Reason ultimately overcame desire; they held their ground until they saw the liquid within the cup sway, as if overflowing, rippling through space.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Five times in succession, repeating—complex matrices hidden beneath New York's earth now expanded.

"Ritual?!"

One... ten... ten thousand...

Countless threads emitting Bai Guang rose into the heavens, intertwining and coiling into winding, straight pillars of light, solidifying into tangible radiance.

Endless star seas opened; grand sacred hymns surged; from high above, a silver figure with three heads, three wings, and three arms descended upon the world.

"The judgment is now in session."

Before their eyes, static flickered; after a blur, the three-winged silver figure transformed into a three-headed golden giant:

"Great Holy Grail."

"I shall safeguard it."

"The victor of the Holy Grail War may realize any wish!"

The three faces—representing Justice, Need, and Revenge—each articulated the rules in turn.

He extended his hand, and under countless stunned gazes, firmly seized the Holy Grail.

Then, a blur.

The silver Logos reappeared and issued its verdict.

"The Holy Grail War must proceed."

With divine might overwhelming, his words were law—none could defy them; after his words fell, shock surged throughout the entire omniverse.

For in that instant, he appeared simultaneously in every multiverse and every world within each multiverse.

He is the Living Tribunal.

And the verdict He pronounces shall be an unalterable law!

Then... what do we do about our mission?!

Across the Reincarnators' minds, the same task imposed by the Reincarnation Space—"Prevent the Holy Grail War"—arose unbidden.

"."

After checking, there was no change on the wristwatch.

Go fight the Living Tribunal?!

Countless curses rose within the Reincarnators' hearts, insulting the Reincarnation Space and the Main God's family.

The figure in the sky, after gazing at the earth for a moment,

reformed into auroras—but before departing, layers of law-constructed rings descended and settled upon Earth.

Something had changed, unseen and unfathomable.

"Iron Man!" someone shouted.

Many Reincarnators, drawn by the Living Tribunal's appearance, turned to see atop Stark Tower, a red armored suit flying through the sky.

Beneath the moonlight, jet thrusters on his feet and hands left fiery trails in the air, finally halting midair.

Zzzz~!

He curled his finger.

"."

Zzzzz~!

He shook his head, wearing an expression of disappointment.

"."

A deathly silence spread across all of New York, until—

The armored man pointed downward with a thumbs-up.

"F*** you!!!"

"How dare some local show off?!!!"

"Brothers, grab your gear and take him down!"

"But I'm a Zero."

"?"

That's a massive bounty—complete all tasks and rewards multiplied manyfold! Even if you're the God of Iron, full Infinity Stones plus Phoenix Force, what then?!

We've fought multiverse-level wars before!

Can't we handle you if we can't handle the Living Tribunal?!

Someone may be deliberately inciting, but at this point, even if we know it's a provocation, we should play along to heighten the atmosphere.

Amid the rising fury, even some local mages and local Spirit Participants, clueless as to what was happening, joined in, mingling among them.

Who knows why so many new rivals suddenly appeared tonight—but who cares? Take down one, collect one. Gathering Holy Stains and Spirit Base fragments is still useful.

As the Reincarnator army advanced toward nuclear detonation, some Spirits prepared to strike covertly—

"Hey, Daoist, what sect or clan do you belong to?"

"Aba Aba Da Duo Duo Squad? This humble one is the master of Tianxiu Sect, one step away from transcending the Self-Dao—halfway to Immortality."

"Xiu'er, that's the mission target!"

"Oh."

Puch—!

A Reincarnator stared in disbelief at the ancient sword through his chest; before he could curse, his entire body exploded, spraying blood like rain.

"You slashed the wrong one—I'm from Miaoshou Sect!"

"Who can tell?! Go revive yourself."

A muscular monk swung two great cleavers, slashing at people.

"Daoist friends, is this the simulated universe?! Marvelous, marvelous!" an old woman chuckled, inflating her skin into a balloon-like human hide.

Bong—!

A sound like a bubble bursting echoed.

At the moment of her self-destruction, some blood splattered around; instantly, Reincarnators who touched the blood screamed in agony, rotting marks appearing on their bodies.

"It seems heaven and earth's Dao are suppressing—why was the old witch's explosion so weak?" someone observed the rot spreading on his chest:

"Forget it."

He stopped dwelling, drew his sword across his own throat.

So—!

A fine rain of sword qi shot out in all directions.

"These people are all strong?!" murmured a young Daoist in robes.

"Too bad I lost the last CP bet—I don't have many revival artifacts left. Isn't the emotion from amnesiac reunion real?!"

Fallen God, you have no heart!"

The young Daoist began running, his movements and speed accelerating until he left afterimages throughout the crowd.

"Let me have no love either."

The sword scabbard returned to its place; the young Daoist Priest looked at the spear piercing his chest, then turned to gaze at a man whose body bore only sword wounds.

"Now the old priest has no resurrection artifact left."

The young Daoist Priest spat blood and collapsed.

"Are you all mad?!"

The man's eyes held no joy; he looked around as more and more Reincarnators sank into inexplicable chaos, a faint, almost imperceptible fear flickering in his gaze.

When had the number of Reincarnators nearly doubled? Where had these people come from? What were they even saying?

"Fellow Daoists, I propose we all detonate together in celebration—ten. nine."

"Offer your hearts to the Supreme Will—!"

"Let this monk chant the Seven Kill Song as the BGM!"

After the bald monk spoke, all eyes turned to him, then—

"One!"

Boom—!

The power and radius were modest; even the strongest explosions looked no larger than a hand grenade, but in that instant, nearby Reincarnators were pulled into a vortex of Dao and Principle intertwined.

The streets of New York were utterly stained red, littered with severed limbs and broken bodies; many Reincarnators remained dazed even now.

Even Reincarnators who had fought their way out of supernatural worlds couldn't comprehend this spectacle.

It was as if they were possessed by malevolent spirits or had gone mad—those who had previously followed the main group suddenly erupted into insanity without warning.

And it kept coming, endlessly.

Is this still the Marvel Universe?

The sudden chaos left some bewildered, others ready to fight, and still others fixed on Tony Stark in the sky.

One blind old man gathered lightning into his palm, shaping it into a blade; he overcame suppression, unleashed his power, and within an instant exploded beyond his limits.

In the shadows, someone lifted a chess piece and placed it before the enemy king.

Spatial displacement!

A crack appeared on the chessboard—a supernatural force that should not exist in this world, yet had occurred.

Swoosh—!

The lightning blade pierced Iron Man's chest; the old man's lips curled into a faint smile.

"Oh, sorry."

Iron Man looked at his chest, raised his head, and asked: "You haven't seen the movies, have you? Don't you know this thing can be controlled remotely?"

"You bastard—!"

The falling Iron Man and the blind old man's curses made many Reincarnators shake their heads inwardly.

Gradually, as the scene sank into further chaos, only a bizarre assortment of figures remained fighting in the streets; any Reincarnator who slowed down even slightly would be chased for over a dozen blocks.

Most of them were weak, though a few far surpassed the average strength of the Reincarnators present.

Whenever a Reincarnator died, they would swarm over and begin looting.

Like zombies.

But zombies couldn't break their defenses.

"The First Heaven is the Fallen God; he refused to cooperate with me and ordered me to verify the Dark Multiverse."

The pocket watch's cover snapped shut; Zuo Kete, dressed in an English gentleman's style, sat quietly in a courtyard, savoring afternoon tea.

"Heh." He chuckled, setting down the letter:

"That's why I dislike this guy—he brings chaos wherever he goes."

Beside him stood a punk-style lifeform, entirely painted red and composed of gears, respectfully holding a pink bubble.

"How many fragments of the First Heaven did you give her?"

"111."

The gears on the humanoid's body spun rapidly, spewing thick black smoke.

"One percent?" the gentleman asked.

"That's not enough—unless He wants to become a sleeping tale in that universe, like Cthulhu."

The gear humanoid said: "One point seven nine five."

"That's your last amount—I recall she didn't pay a cost to enter last time," Zuo Kete murmured, stroking his chin as he examined the pink bubble in the humanoid's hand.

"Keep it, Du Weimuke—but be careful."

He picked up the letter on the table and walked toward the glass courtyard's exit: "Tiny lights are being born inside."

"Thank you, Master," said Du Weimuke, the gears on his body slowing down.

He hurried forward, reaching the courtyard gate before the gentleman and slowly pulling it open; black, dark chaos surged in, beginning to corrode everything within.

"To the Lord of the Future Abyss."

Zuo Kete released the letter, letting it drift freely into the chaos: "Are you the Fallen God?"

Splitting, reassembling, expanding—as if creating heaven and earth.

"Thief."

A low voice echoed through the darkness; a gray-white Tree of Time rose from the ground, and numerous familiar figures hidden in the shadows—

Captain America, Iron Man, Ant-Man, Doctor Strange, Spider-Man—seemed to find their direction.

They shuffled toward the gray-white Tree of Time.

"It seems this Fallen God is a falsehood."

Zuo Kete gently closed the door, smiled slightly, and turned to the gear humanoid: "Du Weimuke, you must thank him too."

"?" Du Weimuke was puzzled.

Your cycle has been broken.

Zuo Kete did not explain, but opened the watch face again and placed his hand on the button: "I hope next time I see a different you."