Chapter 459: Happy New Year, Everyone!!!

Behind the Headless Knight, layers upon layers of unreal spirits rose, like a well‑trained army, charging upstream against the river in a destructive onslaught.

A aura of solemnity, cold, death, and corruption surged instantly; the Blood Moon fostered spiritual growth, and death's strengthening at this moment became the Headless Knight's aid in cleansing the pollution created by the Primordial Moon believers.

In the ink‑black river, forces of decay and filth quickly took dominance; pale‑yellow pus and the milky tentacles growing within, as well as the giant‑like golems, were swiftly corroded.

A mutation also occurred at this time; as the melee continued, more and more ordinary people, extraordinary beings, and artificially created mutant monsters perished, their life force, guided by an unknown power, irrigating the land.

Under the Blood Moon's influence on life and the spiritual realm, all creatures displayed tremendous vitality, and mutations emerged simultaneously.

Even ordinary plants sprouted gaping scarlet mouths; the mutant monsters and long‑dead corpses alike cracked open with a scarlet mouth and vaguely similar facial outlines.

They all stared at the high scarlet Blood Moon, as if on a pilgrimage, uttering obscure syllables from their mouths:

". Unique singular red‑moon life and. beautiful symbol of spiritual. mother"

". Unique singular red‑moon life and beautiful symbol, mother of all spirits"

Fragmented, layered prayers echoed around, repeat after repeat, gradually becoming coherent and clear.

The Blood Moon hanging high in the sky seemed strongly attracted; its deep‑red light grew richer, rippling outward in concentric crimson waves.

The river, nearly swallowed by darkness, began to change; the scarlet Blood Moon reflected clearly on its surface, and the eyes of monsters born of decay and mutation soon glowed deep red, their bodies undergoing deeper mutations toward flesh‑bound life.

Vigorous vitality instantly covered the land; on the ground and even in wall cracks, emerald sprouts continuously emerged, and animals and insects awoke from slumber, beginning frantic reproduction.

No wonder his true body could never be found—he simply has none. What a complete madman!

Leiketon's complexion darkened as he watched everything unfold; he hadn't expected that the devotee of the Primordial Moon, for this moment, had long abandoned his own body, making himself a part—indeed the main part—of this grand ceremony.

This is no longer a problem I can solve alone. He drew a deep breath and began softly chanting the honored name of the Hidden Sage:

"Sage who perceives the world, eyes that probe truth, embodiment of endless knowledge and spiritual numbers!"

As his words fell, a light invisible to most extraordinary beings surged from the unknown, like an unseen river cloaking the sky, shaping the deep‑red moonlight that pierced the shadow veil.

Simultaneously with the Hidden Sage's appearance, faint, colorless glimmers—like a waterfall of countless illusory things—dropped from the Star Realm, forcefully striking the barrier the Hidden Sage had created.

After breaking through the Hidden Sage's barrier, the waterfall‑like glimmer split into several streams: some fell toward the Axis Cathedral, some toward the heavily polluted river channel, and some toward the mutated monsters.

"Guard your Star Realm; we don't need your interference here."

A detached, icy, deep voice resonated in the dark night, as if echoing in everyone's ears.

The surrounding shadows instantly came alive, forming a pitch‑black ocean that swallowed all the glimmer falling from the Star Realm, without a single ripple.

"Roar~"

Deep in the sky, an extremely aberrant, spirit‑piercing howl suddenly erupted; the Hidden Sage's concealed sky‑light grew stiff and heavy, as if bound by an unseen force.

Through the opening created by the earlier glimmer from the Star Realm, Leiketon could see a rather vague space where desire had almost solidified.

There, a figure hung upside‑down on a tree writhed in agony; the near‑wailing howl earlier had come from it.

Then a black, sticky arm, seemingly oozing aberrant fluid, reached out from the depths of the spirit realm after a long traverse.

With the arm's appearance, an extreme sense of evil and madness spread rapidly; surrounding beings, amid frantic reproduction and bizarre prayers, paused for an instant, then grew even more insane.

Crimson light flashed, and a moon‑like hazy figure instantly appeared before the extremely aberrant, mad arm.

Thick black mist surged around him, forming a vampire bat that hovered between reality and illusion; these bats flew in a strict pattern, forming deep‑red shackles that tightly bound the exaggerated arm before them.

The vampire bats, upon touching the wholly aberrant, mad arm, instantly became maddened—some burst into death, some mutated, some turned on their own.

Likewise, each attack by the vampire bats siphoned life force from the arm, replenishing themselves and spawning new bats.

From a distance, the deep‑red shackles binding the extremely mad, aberrant arm constantly shed shards of red phosphorus; the shards vanished instantly, yet the shackles seemed to grow automatically, maintaining their quantity and length just right.

The Bound God and its spawn also emerged, their secret pact with the two on the moon unknown. This battlefield grows ever more chaotic; who knows what further changes await.

The Bloodline's "Full Moon" Grand Duke seemed able to temporarily bind Si'e'a, but under the Primordial Moon's influence his condition inevitably wanes; the melee must end swiftly.

He muttered a thought, Leiketon withdrew his gaze from the sky, inhaled deeply, swiftly steadied his mind, then lifted his right hand slightly, drawing it through the air.

With his motion, a deep, dark, illusory river flowed out from the unknown—tranquil and still, stirring no ripple; unless one deliberately looks up, anyone would subconsciously overlook it.

The deep, dark, illusory river silently descended from the heights, as if even the air were undergoing decay, decline, and death.

Under Leiketon's deliberate control, the illusory water gradually merged with the real river below; all monsters in the water began to decay and die.

The flesh mutated by the Primordial Moon's influence quickly rotted, crumbling into dust.

The Headless Knight sprinting across the river suddenly slowed; the layered illusory silhouettes behind him melted away into the air.

Its black armor quickly became speckled with rust, spreading until only an empty, fused horse‑armor and knight's helm remained, as if weathered by countless ages, covered in brown‑red rust and various holes.

Silent decay and death spread rapidly outward; the mutated beings on both riverbanks who had frantically whispered prayers to the Primordial Moon all halted, moving toward an unstoppable, inevitable death.

Leiketon whispered the Hidden Sage's honored name while attempting to condense his own spirit, ending this mysterious reappearance.

How did this mysterious reappearance suddenly go out of control? A Blood Moon night spurs spiritual growth, strengthens inspiration, and amplifies death. Death amplified! The River of Eternal Darkness is trying to use this reappearance to exert influence, seeking to carve a new tributary?

As the thought flickered, all his external perceptions vanished; he fell into a hallucinatory state, as if in an endless wasteland, surrounded by countless vague lights flickering.

There were oddly dressed youths, naïve children, seductive women, stooped elders, four‑legged cats and dogs, low‑flying birds that treated the grassland like a sea of fish, roaring steam trains, and airships whose paint was indistinct.

"I belong here"

A strange insight brushed his heart, but before he could ponder, Leiketon suddenly felt his head throb, as countless pieces of information barged into his mind aggressively.

Unlike the Hidden Sage's knowledge that spreads person by person, Leiketon felt these swarming pieces of knowledge, eager to pierce his mind, were all alive, persistently whispering in his ear, trying to enter his brain.

"All shut up!" The intense pain made Leiketon roar angrily.

His ears suddenly fell silent, and the throbbing ceased; he sensed the living knowledge had not left, still surrounding him, still trying to enter his mind, but now they behaved obediently, like suddenly polite children queuing orderly into his brain, settling into their memory compartments.

Leiketon froze for a moment, unable to regain composure—are these pieces of knowledge really this obedient?

After a brief daze, he quickly steadied his mind; now was not the time to ponder such questions.

As his senses recovered, he finally noticed the out‑of‑control mysterious reappearance had vanished; the river below no longer showed mutation or decay, nor any sign of vitality, and the prayers to the Primordial Moon had grown faint, as the sudden surge of death had abruptly ended the brief lives of the mutant monsters.

"Thank you, you let me truly feel death."

"Birth and death are so marvelous; I feel I am one step closer to the great Mother!"

Layered, indistinguishable sounds echoed around, like a chorus of countless murmurs—cold, indifferent, yet utterly insane.

(End of Chapter)