Chapter 228: Kǎilìfū — Is the Boundary Gate Area a Place Teeming with Monsters?

Machine performance is not the key to victory.

"If you don't act now, you probably won't have another chance later."

As Nián shouted for Xī to retreat quickly, Mòsītímǎ, who had been helping Xī resist Jiālàtèlóng on Xī's side, just said "all right", then turned off the microphone, closed their eyes, and muttered to themselves.

In the world she originally came from, the actual destructive power of the gods is not necessarily comparable to those so-called monsters, but conversely, they also possess some abilities to make up for lacking destructive power.

Like the wind and snow of Yēlāgāngdé, like Xī's brushwork, and like Nián's smelting.

She closed her eyes, the two staves crossing.

The white staff rose.

The black staff fell.

At the moment of impact, there was silent stillness.

It seemed as if even sound was choked, in that frozen spacetime, blood surged and nerves rang.

The black lock is a cage engraved upon the magic staff, in its left hand.

And the pure white key that opens the cage is in the right hand——using that space‑rending power to undo the time‑achieved seal, Mòsītímǎ opened their eyes and stared at the huge claw tip occupying too much of the field of view.

Satan's Snake, a pitch‑black dragon turned pallid by the time seal, was regaining its original color, hissing and roaring, expressing its first feeling after breaking free:

"Once again——! An opportunity to free me!"

The time‑binding shackles that had constrained her fell away one by one, and she threw back her head and let out a long howl.

In terms of Mòsītímǎ's personal sense of time, the last time they were released was even less than two years ago, but their bodily feeling was obviously more than that.

She commanded time, yet was bound by an even higher order of time's shackles.

Caught within it, one only feels endless length—thousands of years, tens of thousands, or even more?

She had once wondered how to vent that unplaceable emptiness, and how to unleash anger at being bound again, but when this moment truly arrived, her heart felt only relief.

"Fallen Angel, inheritor of Mòsītímǎ's name, you brat who messed up the master lock, you need my power, right?"

This was her second sentence.

At thirty meters tall, with a giant finger big enough to fill the field of view pointing at the calm‑faced Fallen Angel, the fragments of Satan's Dragon stared at her, swollen with the self‑satisfaction that comes after a great victory.

"I think if you keep dilly‑dallying, you might die here, Mr. Satan." Mòsītímǎ felt helpless, the staff in their hand that, even after releasing the prisoner, still held power pointed toward the distant King Jiālàtèlóng.

Seventy meters is an overwhelming size for a thirty‑meter‑tall black dragon.

Moreover, its hand held a cannon barrel ten meters wide, already gleaming with light, and even in the next second——

Boom!!!!

"Stop! You arrogant fool!"

The beast roared, a visible shockwave bursting from its roar, and the blazing golden beam actually halted as if frozen in midair—for three seconds.

"What?" They had completely underestimated the output of that surging energy; just as the beast was about to have its head swept away by a fifty‑meter‑high beam, Mòsītímǎ's earpiece also picked up someone's strained shout, even while suffering heavy damage:

"thunder!" (Thunder!)

"death!" (Death!)

"charge!" (Charge!)

A pallid radiance and azure current wove together into a silver thunder‑pillar that howled from the lower left, forcibly cutting off the blazing golden beam before it could fire; at the moment of explosion, the shooter could hear heavy footsteps approaching from afar.

Thunder Slayer——the unlucky guy who was first blown away recovered, wiping the butt of the embarrassing black dragon.

Moreover, in the team channel they threw a straight jab: "That thing in your staff seems not to have noticed the world's changes."

"Thanks, I think she can wake up now." Appearing relatively calm on the surface, Mòsītímǎ was actually drenched in cold sweat, their smile now tinged with forced ease.

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"Cough, if it were my true form I could definitely block it, I just forgot that only these fragments remain now."

Although Satan's body is clearly huge, its hearing is surprisingly sharp; it could not yet bring itself to loudly curse its lifesaver, and besides, that lifesaver looked no pushover—already striding forward with the sturdy legs of a powerhouse toward King Jiālàtèlóng.

Thunder Claw condensed again, Thunder Slayer rushed at the King Jiālàtèlóng who was a head taller, swinging a giant claw, only to meet the opponent's fist shrouded in silver‑white radiance.

In the crackling blast, both retreated—the King Jiālàtèlóng only half a step, while Thunder Slayer stepped back three paces, its cape‑like huge wings fluttering rearward, and jet‑streams of black‑and‑white fire spewing from the armor gaps to prevent a straight backward fall.

"As expected, the basic output is far too weak—any support?"

At the moment of the inquiry, that V‑shaped mouth had already fired a dark‑red crescent woven of lightning, but the opponent smashed it with a single punch, and Aomo too had to admit the worth of the three‑card fusion beast.

Lightning Slash, a skill whose power is not bad, ended up not even raising a shield.

At a glance the basic stat gap is obvious; to win you must resort to tricks, the most evident being the Aurean‑specific alliance‑building.

Just like the White Chalk Beast now charging in—its volume far greater than before, it had completely opened up to draw metal from the surrounding ruined buildings, to exert Nián's authority over smelting.

Heaven has the crucible, earth bears the five metals; there are beasts like chalk, with bellies like great cauldrons, numbering nine, horns like reddish copper; the White Chalk Beast is built of metal, a mechanical construct similar to the Gold Ancient Bridge and King Jiālàtèlóng yet utterly different.

The life granted to her was not a program, but a soul.

Thus it became more like a living creature, even possessing fine whiskers and a flowing mane.

And its creator, still standing with arms crossed in a relaxed pose, greeted it from atop its head:

"Need support? Here I come!!"

The White Chalk Beast, like its creator, possesses a fiery, hasty nature—it not only rushes in at high speed, but as soon as it gets within attack range it unleashes a horizontal slash!

Easily blocked by King Jiālàtèlóng's left claw, which belongs to King Jiālàtèlóng:

"Not bad strength—if you could also become my merchandise, that would be great."

Unlike the speech‑impaired Thunder Slayer, King Jiālàtèlóng obviously has a normal PA system, allowing that elf‑like man to spout off at length.

"Is catching a beast just to turn it into merchandise?" Aomo frowned, Thunder Slayer lunged forward with a claw at this moment, only to be met by the opponent's other arm, a mechanical cannon wrapped in a magical formation.

But this was just a feint—the claw held no charge; the real strike came from whipping the long tail coiled around its leg, which had accumulated dark‑golden current.

"Oh!"

Although capable of forging metal that blocks current, who would normally do such a treatment? Nián immediately had the White Chalk Beast withdraw its sword and retreat, otherwise they'd get a numbing shock.

"Aomo Lindun, I know you, you also hold something very valuable—great! I hadn't planned to seek you out, but you came forward on your own."

Alright, such a vigorous beep-beep, King Galatron's anti-electric work is also done quite well.