Chapter 461: A Soul from a Foreign Realm

A Soul from a Foreign Realm

Far beyond the void.

On a patch of turbid red earth, a middle-aged man with his hands tied behind his back knelt on both knees, his head hanging low.

His face was ashen, his eyes vacant, and his murmuring lips seemed to be cursing the gods, questioning why things had turned out this way.

Why?

They were clearly the victors...

Yet, the Grim Reaper had come knocking after they had won everything.

The voice from the void did not answer; what interrupted his thoughts was a righteous, stern shout.

"Meta!"

Hearing his own name, the middle-aged man twitched all over as if electrocuted.

"I... I'll confess!"

A burst of laughter erupted from the execution ground, though the people outside the execution ground could not laugh; after all, no one could be sure if they would be the next ones up there.

As for why they were afraid yet still watched, that was another matter entirely.

"Did I ask you?"

The middle-aged man shrank his neck, his lips trembling, unable to say another word.

Perhaps feeling that this pathetic display was truly pitiful, the man who had asked the question, despite his look of disgust, felt a flicker of compassion, and his tone softened slightly.

"Alright, what else do you have to confess?"

Although the death sentence was unavoidable, speaking out would make things easier, lest he become a vengeful ghost after going down.

Yet the middle-aged man seemed to have misunderstood, as his body, withered from hunger, erupted with unimaginable strength.

He twisted his head desperately, trying to look at the man standing behind him, as well as the spectators on and outside the execution ground. Using that mouth, swollen to the point where not a single complete tooth could be found, he let out a garbled plea.

"I am innocent! I was in Night Harbor... to gather intelligence and raise military funds! Everything I did was for our families; General Grove can testify, I am loyal!"

His ramblings drew a round of mockery.

This time, it wasn't just the people on the execution ground; even those outside laughed out loud.

"That stray dog is already dead," the person who pronounced his fate said expressionlessly. "I'm afraid you won't be seeing him."

Dead...

The middle-aged man's face turned pale, as if all his strength had been drained, as if his soul had been lost.

He finally stopped struggling.

A cold sneer came from behind him, followed by the sound of a bullet being chambered.

"Since you want to see Grove so badly, you can go down and accompany that traitor."

Bang—!

A piercing gunshot rang out, and the man named Meta fell to the ground at the sound.

Those eyes, wide open in death, stared fixedly, carving his final and most venomous curse into his gradually dilating pupils.

'I curse you—'

'And you all, as well as your descendants!'

'You shall build the Hive City of Urgos and live there like ants, running endlessly like rats, persecuting each other in ignorance, repeating an endless cycle in a game of insatiable greed! Until eternity!'

His soul let out a silent roar.

That resentment even overpowered the stench of blood on the execution ground, making the executioner's back feel a chill, as if entangled by an evil spirit.

Meta didn't know who Urgos was; it was the only voice he heard in his dying moments.

It seemed to be a name.

It was also the only True God who, while he was denouncing the injustice of fate and cursing the heavens for being blind, opened Its eyes to him and responded with compassion to his soul's questioning.

'I will fulfill your wish.'

'My poor child.'

Hearing that promise from the void, Meta's corpse shed tears of blood in gratitude, as if seeing a true father.

Harboring a curse and hatred for the entire world, his soul finally broke free from that broken flesh, embraced the will of Urgos, and, guided by karma, went to another world...

However, what awaited him was not a happy, beautiful second life in a foreign world with beauties in his arms.

When he opened his eyes, he discovered in horror that he had become a huge, fat rat.

Although he was a Rat-kin, he had never thought he would actually become a rat-man.

He straightened his body, over three meters long, and looked around in a panic, only to see himself standing in a mountain of corpses and sea of bones even bloodier than the previous execution ground.

The ground was covered with giant rats similar to him, stretching as far as the eye could see.

They were pouncing on bloated corpses, feasting away, eating with crunching sounds, their mouths full of blood and fat.

Meta despaired.

He trembled all over, wanting to go back, but he couldn't find the way home at all.

And what terrified him even more was that he could feel that his familiar family members seemed to be among this group of rats feasting with oily mouths, only he didn't know which one they were...

Meta only recognized one person.

Although that person had a human face, he looked more like a rat than any of the rats here.

That is... the head of the family?

No—

That guy should still have half a breath left, and why did he become a human?

He was the one who should have gone to hell the most!

At this moment, the renowned "Grove" and "Gopal" were crawling at that person's feet, as docile as two big cats.

Meta couldn't understand!

He, who had believed in karma just a second ago, now began to doubt that the heavens were blind.

Clearly, he hadn't studied physics and didn't know that the action of force is mutual, and that the karma from the void was, of course, the same.

Yet people can always see the karma in others, but never in themselves.

Those people who pushed him into the Hive City would naturally go to the Hive City that belonged to them; however, he, who cursed his own compatriots to never be reborn, would obviously also go to the Hive City that belonged to him, and he would go down a step earlier.

He wanted to open his mouth to speak, but only let out a rat-like shriek.

The frantic thoughts tore at his already fragile nerves; gradually, only the thought of devouring remained in his heart—

Hungry!

So hungry!!!

Driven by instinct, he, who had just stood up, crawled on the ground again.

Only this time, it wasn't to beg for mercy, but to gnaw on the flesh and blood residue on the ground, wholeheartedly offering his submission to Urgos and the apostle It had chosen.

The Hive City was not in the depths of the distant universe, but right under the feet of every person with insatiable greed.

Meta felt his soul adapting to this new body; the memories of his previous life were like a candle in the wind.

In the end, his gradually blurring consciousness was left with only one desperate thought.

If offering one's soul to Urgos ultimately leads to this fate, then those who died first might not be considered unlucky...

Just as "Meta" was burying his head in the feast, Silas, standing in the middle of the mountain of corpses and sea of bones, had a joyful smile on his face.

Looking at the two giant rats crawling beside him, he reached out and gently stroked their heads.

"So obedient..."

Although he didn't know which world the two God-chosen ones came from, or what roles they played in their respective worlds, they were indeed good dogs.

No—

It should be said, good rats.

Just a few hours ago, Silas led the 100,000-strong army bestowed upon him by Kalian into the siege camp outside Dusk City.

Having done this, he didn't immediately start the siege; instead, he ordered the cooks to set up stoves, light fires, and prepare the last supper for those heroic young men.

That was, of course, no ordinary dinner, but the "Holy Meal" bestowed by Urgos.

Its ingredients all came from the sacrifices at the ritual.

Every soldier who ate the flesh and blood of the sacrificed also became an offering to Urgos.

In the terrifying ritual magic, they would lose the feeling of fullness and, urged by hunger, would eat endlessly until their reason was devoured by endless hunger and desire, becoming monsters that had nothing left but being alive, and eventually, even their bodies began to swell and twist.

This was merely the first stage of the ritual; 100,000 souls were just the key to opening the Chaos Gate.

And with the opening of the Chaos Gate, tens of millions of hungry, wandering souls were summoned, guided by karma.

They did not come from the same world, but they were all souls of the same type.

They hovered in the sky, forming a thick, black cloud, greedily overlooking the ground, waiting for an opportunity to act, grinding their teeth and sucking their claws, waiting for the moment to descend.

At this time, the second stage of the ritual began, and the Plague Rats of the Carrion Clan followed onto the altar.

Hundreds of thousands of rat-men pounced, starting to gnaw on the 100,000 twisted, bloated living sacrifices that were already unable to eat, and in the endless devouring, they became new sacrifices.

Every time a giant rat took shape, tens of thousands of souls descended from the sky, squeezed into a mass, and were poured into a mature body of flesh and blood, forming a "God-chosen one."

Unlike the "Mist of Deception" that deploys troops between "different galaxies in the same universe."

The believers of the "Claw of Eternal Hunger" mostly come from ignorant worlds and are almost impossible to figure out advanced technologies like "Aether," so It prefers to deploy those identical souls across the void between "different universes."

"Madness Speakers" often have a rigorous and thorough logic and find it hard to see eye to eye. However, the "Cravers" are different; they can always easily achieve resonance at the soul level because of many twisted desires that seem different but are essentially the same.

This is one of their advantages.

Looking around, the entire vast land is filled with these twisted "Chaos Eggs."

An unprecedented blasphemy is brewing on the turbid earth, and terror and death are weaving an unprecedentedly powerful force.

The King of the Ryan Kingdom certainly couldn't have imagined that this fire would eventually burn like this; his indulgence ultimately brewed a monster that no one had ever seen before...

Looking at the massive power expanding before him, the smile on Silas's face became increasingly proud, even revealing an intoxicated expression.

"Urgos above, this is truly... too beautiful."

As a reward for pleasing the whispers from the void, the great Urgos sent down souls from foreign realms and let these souls manipulate those turbid flesh and blood, fighting to forge an eternal Hive City.

Silas didn't understand those complex principles.

The "Claw of Eternal Hunger" is not the "Mist of Deception"; Urgos never encourages Its believers to explore the truth behind the mist, and Silas is not interested in that either.

Those things are not important at all; what is important is completing the sacrifice to the great True God Urgos.

In the face of that grand plan, even Dusk City and the entire uprising are just a part of the sacrifice!

As the weaver of the entire ritual, he will reach the pinnacle of mortal power and become a demigod-level powerhouse!

As long as he becomes a demigod, and a demigod chosen by Chaos, there will be no opponents for him on this land.

And Urgos, standing behind him, will also complete the spiritual colonization of this world, turning all noble souls into Cravers crawling at Its feet!

By then, all the apostles of the Claw of Eternal Hunger will obey his orders, and even the Carrion Clan that once funded him will turn to pledge loyalty to him and become his servants.

As for Kalian...

That guy seems to be at the table, but in fact, he is just a tribute placed on the table.

Although Silas called him Your Majesty, he never for a second considered him a true Majesty.

Just a mere tool.

The turbid black cloud not only obscured Dusk City but also covered the scorched earth in the eastern part of the Griffin Cliff territory.

The Salvation Army from the Quemubao territory was holding high the holy flag of salvation, advancing toward Dusk City.

On a hill not far from the marching route, Gante, looking out toward Dusk City, frowned slightly, a hint of solemnity rising between his brows.

"Such a dense aura of Chaos..." Lei Deng walked to his side and said in a low voice what he had wanted to say but hadn't spoken.

Gante nodded silently, then withdrew his gaze from the distance and looked at Lei Deng.

"How far are we from Dusk City?"

Lei Deng pondered for a moment and said.

"Three days at the fastest!"

And that was the most optimistic situation.

If they ran into a rainy day, or encountered an ambush on the road, it wouldn't be impossible for it to be delayed even longer.

Gante shook his head.

"Too slow."

At the current marching speed, by the time they reached Dusk City, it would probably be too late for everything.

Moreover, he always had a feeling.

Every time he eliminated a God-chosen of the "Claw of Eternal Hunger," another, stronger God-chosen would emerge to stand against him.

They seemed endless, even getting stronger the more he killed, to the point where even he felt a hint of trouble!

Just as Gante was thinking this, a strong aura of Chaos suddenly approached the edge of his perception.

Sensing that malicious gaze, Gante's eyes instantly sharpened, locking onto the hill two kilometers away.

That person clearly hadn't expected that even a distant glance would be spotted, and immediately darted behind the rocks to the side.

But clearly.

Having exposed his tracks, he couldn't escape.

Noticing Gante's sudden change in expression, Lei Deng cast an inquiring look at him.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just a little rat."

Gante reached for the greatsword behind him and continued expressionlessly.

"It seems these apostles of Chaos don't want us to reach Dusk City smoothly."

Lei Deng's face changed slightly.

Not daring to be negligent, he immediately rode back into the military formation.

Just as Gante sensed the malicious aura in the distance, the Salvation Army's scout cavalry also discovered traces of enemy activity on the army's marching route.

They didn't hide themselves; they even stood swaggeringly in front of the Salvation Army, with an unbridled posture, as if they held an incredible trump card in their hands.

The smell of gunpowder permeated the depths of the forest, and under the tree shadows, the rustling grinding of teeth of the Clan Rat-men could be faintly heard.

A battle was imminent!

At the same time that the Salvation Army's vanguard was engaging in a slaughter with the ambushers of the Green Forest Army, the "Northern Rescue Army" passing through the Jing Shui Tan territory finally stepped into the territory of Dusk City and encountered the last barrier blocking them in the forest south of Dusk City.

Clearly, the commander of the Green Forest Army wasn't stupid; knowing that being caught between Dusk City and the reinforcements would mean death, he took the initiative to send troops to intercept them.

However, they clearly weren't very smart either, because truly smart people, seeing that the situation was gone, would never make such a meaningless, desperate struggle.

Luo Yan, riding on horseback, cast his gaze over the dust-rolling forest, looking thoughtfully at the sky covered in black clouds, always feeling that an eye was overlooking him from there.

Not just him.

It was watching everyone.

That twisted and abstract face carried an unsettling kindness, as if everyone were Its children, or perhaps Its chess pieces.

Everything in the mortal world was just Its game.

Luo Yan had a sudden thought: when he gazed at the civilization behind the Void in the Mage Tower, would it be the same feeling?

Thinking this, the heavy feeling pressing on his heart instantly vanished like smoke.

Standing on the other side of the Void was just another Heketu.

Maybe even worse than that old guy...

In the dense forest, the air was so heavy it felt like it could drip water.

The bird calls in the forest had long since disappeared, replaced only by suppressed breathing and the sound of armor clashing against each other.

The rustling sound of tens of thousands of feet stepping on dead leaves.

Two massive armies met unexpectedly on this battlefield that would decide their fate.

"Form up!"

Teresa shouted, drawing her longsword and pointing it at the sky.

Under the officer's command, the well-trained soldiers quickly switched from marching formation to shooting formation, pointing their polished flintlock muskets forward.

Citizen cavalry and dwarf musketeers roamed behind the formation, quickly heading to their respective combat positions, waiting for an opportunity.

And right opposite them, countless green banners swayed in the forest like ghost fires. And under those swaying "ghost fires" were pairs of pupils more terrifying than the soul fire of the undead.

Undoubtedly, most of the people standing there were humans, yet there was little sign of life left on them, only astonishing fanaticism!

The two armies were pitted against each other, swords drawn and bows bent.

Princess Ailin sat astride her warhorse, her gaze crossing the formation in front and landing on the figure in front of the Green Forest Army formation.

If the scouts' intelligence was correct, that person was the legendary "Green Turban" Kalian, whose wanted poster had spread throughout the entire Dusk Saint Saint Xingsheng.

However, unlike the legends, that face was neither as green-faced and fanged as the Kingdom soldiers described, nor as righteous as the Green Forest Army captives claimed; it was just an ordinary face.

If one ignored the aura of Chaos emanating from him, standing there, he was just an ordinary woodcutter.

Princess Ailin could feel that although both were apostles of Chaos, this guy was fundamentally different from the "Herald" Luolandaer.

The latter was immersed in self-compiled epics and emotions, unable to extricate himself, while the former was someone who truly harbored ideals and longed to change something.

It was just that his ideals had clearly been twisted into something else, to the point where even his soul had become foul-smelling.

Just as Princess Ailin was scrutinizing Kalian, Kalian was also watching the "golden-shining" knight opposite.

Although he didn't know why her hair was silver-white instead of the rumored golden-yellow, he could tell at a glance that this person was the legendary Princess Ailin Campbell.

Pushing aside the guards beside him, Kalian walked alone to the front of the formation.

Looking at Princess Ailin and her disciplined army behind her, he spoke in a calm voice, but the sound spread throughout the entire forest.

"You are Princess Ailin Campbell?"

"A mere rebel is worthy of speaking to our Highness—" Teresa's sword brows furrowed, and she was about to scold, but was stopped by Princess Ailin raising her hand.

Riding her horse forward two steps, Princess Ailin raised her chin, looking directly at Kalian's wild and uninhibited face, and spoke in a cold voice.

"I am Princess Ailin Campbell; it seems you are the legendary 'Green Turban' Kalian? I didn't expect you to crawl out of a rat hole."

The corners of Kalian's mouth curled into a cold sneer, and he said lightly.

"Who I am is not important, but since you are a good person, I advise you to go back where you came from and don't block the people of Dusk Saint Saint Xingsheng from embracing a bright future. Otherwise... this forest will be your grave."

"Ha, you really dare to say that."

Princess Ailin sneered, not giving an inch, and said.

"I have come all the way from Torrent Pass, and I have only seen burned villages, slaughtered villagers, and orphans wailing on the ruins... Is this your so-called bright future? Tell me, those who died, where is their future!"

"That is a necessary sacrifice."

There was not a ripple on Kalian's face, as if the tragic situation Princess Ailin mentioned had nothing to do with him.

He wasn't surprised at all; hypocritical Saint Xisi believers would definitely use the dead to talk, thereby slandering the Green Forest Army's uprising as evil. However, would a passionate warrior stop fighting because of this little slander?

Didn't the nobles kill people too?

In the past thousand years, the number of wronged souls who died under royal power was more than ten million!

They might have killed some people, but compared to true thugs, it wasn't worth mentioning!

"Only by uprooting all the decaying nobles and watering this land with their blood can a world truly belonging to the commoners be born, saving all the people living in dire straits! You people who were born with everything will never understand what it's like to need a lord's nod just to hunt a rabbit or cut down a tree in the forest! If death can bring equality, I would rather kill more!"

"I really don't understand what you are talking about."

Princess Ailin stared straight at him, questioning him word by word.

"Perhaps you can tell me, who exactly did you save? What is that person's name? Which village does he live in, and where are his village and family now?"

Kalian sneered.

"Is that all you can say, over and over—"

"Isn't this important!"

Princess Ailin glared at him, and that questioning that reached the soul actually made Kalian's sneer freeze on his face, unable to respond.

"You can't even say a single name! Look at the scorched earth behind you, and the blood on your hands! I haven't seen the equality you speak of on even an inch of soil; I only saw a group of rebels in monkey suits slaughtering at will, using corpses to piece together a bloody altar!"

"Don't talk about nobles; even a person with a conscience, even the Demon King of Lei Ming County, would absolutely never do such a heinous thing! You turn people into man-eating beasts and turn one person into another's prey; this is the result you exchanged with death—"

"Shut up!"

Kalian let out a roar, staring fixedly at Princess Ailin, but didn't dare to look directly into those emerald green pupils.

It was like a burning sword, radiating a light more dazzling than the Light of Heraldry; just looking at it would scorch the soul.

However—

He wouldn't waver.

No matter how dazzling the light, it couldn't cover up the stench on her; he could smell it, it was the rot inherent in the nobles' lackeys!

"You don't understand anything; you only see the immediate pain, but you don't see the thousand-year oppression behind this pain!"

"So your answer is to kill those who make you feel pain?" Princess Ailin's eyes were full of disappointment, and there was also a trace of imperceptible sadness.

She could feel that he was very similar to her, also a person with ideals. He absolutely didn't rise up just because he wanted to kill people.

He must have been unable to stand it anymore, so he decided to try to change something with his own strength... before everything developed into an uncontrollable fire.

It was just that he wasn't as lucky as her; that weak seed had already been twisted by the evil spirits of Chaos before it could sprout.

They were destined not to convince each other.

Perhaps, only the swords in their respective hands could decide who was the correct side.

"More talk is useless."

Kalian raised the short sword in his hand, his eyes filled only with cold determination.

"Since you don't intend to withdraw from here, then take your hypocritical kindness and lie in the coffin burying the old world!"

"Dusk Saint Saint Xingsheng is the sacred and indivisible legal territory of the Ryan Kingdom; how could the Campbell family run away in front of rebels."

Princess Ailin also slowly raised the "Light of Heraldry" in her hand, the blade shining with holy light under the gray sky, illuminating her snow-white hair.

"I will not let you hurt any more innocent people; the knights of Campbell will end your atrocities here!"

"Just you? Hahaha!"

Kalian laughed, no longer hiding his aura, and a terrifying momentum instantly enveloped the entire forest.

That was the aura of a Purple Crystal-tier powerhouse!

At the very least, this aura was not inferior to Luolandaer!

Teresa widened her eyes, looking at the distant military formation in disbelief, trying her best to suppress the warhorse neighing uneasily beneath her.

How could there be another Purple Crystal-tier powerhouse!?

Where did these rebels get so many high-level transcendents!

It wasn't just Teresa whose face changed; even Quitin Copper-Furnace's face became ugly, his palms rubbing against the axe handle.

Watching those faces written with astonishment, Kalian grinned, pointed the blade at Princess Ailin, and said word by word.

"It seems that the gods are on my side."

Before his words fell, an untimely voice interrupted his arrogance.

"That's hard to say."

(End of chapter) ===== CHAPTER 462 =====