Chapter 143: The Fall of Adolf (29)
The eternal divine chosen one raised his hand. George knew he had caught a glimpse of his shadow, but it was not continuous; it seemed as if he spent half his time traversing space, and the trajectory of his sword was difficult to judge.
By intuition, George deduced it was aiming for his head. He immediately used the cow style to block the high strike. At that moment, he recalled when he was on Earth, where, to test modern weapons’ damage against extraordinary beings, they detonated a 155mm shell right in front of him.
Now, he felt as if several shells were bundled together and detonated against his face.
“Boom!”
George flew across the battlefield, and the shockwave temporarily knocked him unconscious until a demon behind him shouted, “You crushed me!”
George regained his senses and realized he had crashed into a large stone pillar; a demon behind him acted as a cushion, and his armor compressed, creating a large dent in his chest.
He discovered it was a colored succubus. Instead, he threw a punch that broke her neck, saying, “Sorry.”
That oppressive force bore down on him again.
The eternal divine chosen was almost flying towards him, and in no time, he would be right in front of him. George tried to lift the holy sword but found that only two fingers remained on his right hand; the gauntlet had shattered.
“Boom!”
A bolt of azure lightning struck down, forcefully bringing the eternal divine chosen down from the air.
The Emperor of the Empire raised his war hammer, returning like lightning, to stand before the eternal divine chosen.
However, the eternal divine chosen distanced himself; though he had lost his third eye and could no longer predict their attacks, he could see that it was not the true Sigma present but a manifestation of Sigma using the Emperor’s body, burning his will to fight against him.
But mortals ultimately have their limits, and the eternal divine chosen sensed that the Emperor could not endure for much longer; his flesh was crumbling and collapsing.
The crown still shone; the powers of all defeated foes would belong to him, including the Emperor of the Empire.
Nonetheless, he chose to maintain his distance and commanded the demons, “Attack!”
With Sigma’s arrival, the demons stood frozen, as if under a silence spell.
A red-armored blood god chosen soared over everyone’s heads: “Cut him down!”
But before he could land, no one could tell what happened; there was a loud bang, and the blood god chosen’s head, along with the impressive horned helmet, sank deep into the ground.
His death broke the spell.
The black legions surged forward like a tsunami, attacking with great force as several large demons emerged from the gaps, their confidence brimming.
The first large demon to fall was a blue-feathered bird-headed demon, who tried to reshape the magic wind, but was shattered together with the advancing demon warriors.
The second was the blood god demon, who spotted the Emperor of the Empire and pursued him as he darted into the Emperor’s armor, but hit a crush with his elbow, causing his forearm to detach from the upper arm, his hand still tightly gripping the weapon, leaving him stunned.
The sky was rumbled with lightning storms, like a rain of frost; the Armies of Annihilation on the ground were all crushed to charcoal under the power of the lightning.
They had previously imagined that, just based on momentum, they could hold back or even harm the Emperor of the Empire, but in the face of reality, their fantasies seemed incredibly naïve.
At least they had held their ground.
The eternal divine chosen could perceive almost every detail; he used this brief moment to delay the Emperor while surveying the battlefield, making numerous discoveries.
Previously, the guards of Demon King Jima had concealed themselves with magic, hiding far away, and the pig-faced demon sorcerers were quarreling with the other fearful demons over a new rusty flag, that was indeed the banner of the Armies of Annihilation.
His gaze swept across the battlefield and finally landed on Jima’s corpse, its charred arms hanging at its sides, still wearing a golden ring on one finger.
“Not dead yet? As expected, this is your style.”
The eternal divine chosen ignored the Emperor who was challenging him and surged like thunder toward Jima’s corpse. A mass of black magical flames blasted toward Jima’s body, causing the lucky ring on her finger to shine brightly.
Like a conditioned reflex, she tilted her head back, her neck splitting open, shooting out lines as sharp as arrows, each imbued with curses directed at the eternal divine chosen. The rays landed on the eternal divine chosen’s hollow chest as raindrops fell upon the water’s surface.
“Useless! Useless! You’re just like a decapitated chicken pretending to be dead, waiting to snatch honors that don’t belong to you!” the eternal divine chosen shouted. “Burn to ash!”
The magical flames, the size of a carriage, rolled and consumed Jima’s corpse under the eternal divine chosen’s fury.
George appeared, standing in front of the magical fire, holding the holy sword he had found. With only his middle finger and thumb left on his right hand, he gripped the sword hilt, the blood dyeing the hilt red, dodging the magical flames and using his body to shield against the flames.
Jima’s corpse twitched but then remained motionless.
George self-destructed, aiming his remaining middle finger at the eternal divine chosen.
The eternal divine chosen wanted to kill George and then completely eliminate Jima to drain their power, but this delay allowed the Emperor of the Empire, wielding the Sigma war hammer, to approach within three meters of him.
From the signs and various indications, the eternal divine chosen determined that the Emperor’s body had begun to crumble; he was on the brink of collapse.
The eternal divine chosen gazed confidently at the Emperor’s eyes, which sparkled with lightning,
The false divine chosen Marus had been emotionally agitated since putting on the crown: This is my final trial! Even you will become the foundation of my companion!
With that, the two collided. George glanced at Jima’s corpse and then raised his sword, with blood dripping from the hilt, advancing toward the battle.
In a fight of this caliber, even the chosen had no qualification to become cannon fodder. Now, the order had only one person who could become cannon fodder, to exchange a blade for victory.
Just like many who had fallen in battle for him, now it was his turn.
The Emperor of the Empire, or rather the Sigma incarnation, was almost identical to Sigma himself as he fought against the eternal divine chosen.
In the Empire, various legends about Sigma had endured through the ages:
When the Empire was first established, the green-skinned orc launched an unprecedented WAAA GH, intending to devour the Empire, but Sigma crushed the orc warlord known as the Beast with a single hammer blow.
The most powerful necromancer created the vampire Nagash and led the undead army against them, but Sigma smashed his head down with a single blow.
At that time, the eternal divine chosen commanding the Armies of Annihilation… was similarly crushed by Sigma’s hammer.
Beastmen rushed out of the forest, one blow. Skaven burst from the ground, one blow.
In short, after hearing these stories for so long, they felt dull and tedious. Regardless of what happened, no matter how the preachers exaggerated the severity of these events, it all concluded with a single blow.
George thought the same until he witnessed the “one blow” with his own eyes.
“Boom!” This epic battle ended in a rather ordinary fashion.
The hammer of Sigma struck the crown of the eternal divine chosen Marus, deforming his helmet and pulling his head into his chest, exposing only his eyes looking at the Emperor of the Empire.
The eternal divine chosen, who commanded the entire world of the Armies of Annihilation and slaughtered the majority of the Empire, met this fate. The hammer of Sigma fell like a gavel, announcing the death of the eternal divine chosen.
For a moment, even George found it hard to accept. This made everyone’s sacrifices seem trivial; they might as well have merely watched from the sidelines, waiting for Sigma to strike down the eternal divine chosen.
Just as he thought this,
The Emperor of the Empire collapsed before the eternal divine chosen, the lightning faded away, and the twin bolts of electricity disappeared; the luminous Thunder emblem on his chest dimmed, leaving only a damaged body.
George stepped forward, supporting the Emperor’s back, a burnt smell hitting his nostrils. The Emperor had reached his limit; perhaps if the eternal divine chosen had held out for another second, the outcome might have been different.
The weary Emperor, reflecting on moments past, slowly moved his charred lips to ask, “Hero, did the Empire survive?”
He replied, “We won.”
The Emperor managed a strained smile through his closing eyes that lacked eyelashes, slipping into eternal slumber.
“It’s tragic…”
It was unimaginable that the eternal divine chosen was almost entirely embedded in his cranial cavity, with only his eyes visible, yet he still uttered, “I can’t let it go, defeated by the vile Jima; thankfully, she died early.”
George said, “You lost to her for the second time.”
“The second time?”
George approached, not using the holy sword, but instead lifting one of the symbols of the Empire, the hammer of Sigma: “Yes, she was actually the Demon King Jima, who once led troops and made you taste the bitter fruit of defeat. You have no right to look down on her.”
Knowing Jima could not lie, the eternal divine chosen stubbornly insisted, “Impossible!”
These three words became his final words as George brought down the hammer of Sigma forcefully, smashing the last portion of his exposed head into his chest, collapsing the “headless” eternal divine chosen.
The demon king’s crown fell from his head, landing at George’s feet.
The death of the eternal divine chosen echoed through the realm of the Armies of Annihilation like a storm.
But just like that, the great maelstrom wreaked havoc.
The Sigma cathedral was nearly filled with all sorts of demons: fire demons, fright demons, zombie succubi; the horsemen of the apocalypse stood on floating islands, watching him. Various demon warriors also watched him from a distance, forming a large circle.
As dawn broke, the morning sky split open with numerous cracks from which various demons and fiends continuously emerged into the mundane world. The Armies of Annihilation would not be extinguished simply because their leader had died.
This massive circle of demon armies did not rush to shred George apart merely because they wanted to witness the birth of a new king; they had no other choice.
Several three-eyed blue-feathered birds landed, squawking:
“There must be an eternal divine chosen!”
George bent down, using his middle finger and left hand to pick up the Demon King’s crown. Unknowingly, the master of tricks had done something to ensure the crown was still absorbing magical winds and various forms of corruption; just holding it, George’s hand gradually turned black. His instincts told him he would surely fall if he put it on.
The master of deception was undoubtedly startled. Jima was evil and selfish but recklessly sought to
Ritual.
After transforming, Jima had meddled, probably only to ensure that in the end, she was the one to take up the Demon King’s crown and fall into darkness.
For a moment, George somewhat understood the eternal divine chosen’s obsession.
George did not hesitate for long; he turned and rushed toward Jima’s corpse, hoping she could hold on until he crowned her in the summer, and return to life.
The blue crows squawked incessantly, conveying the displeasure of the master of tricks to George.
“Your actions are futile!”
“Our lord specifically enlightened you!”
“Foretelling your future!”
Another blue-feathered crow shouted, “Jima is dead; her soul is shattered, and the one wearing the crown now is nothing but a monster.”
“Monster! Monster! You still want to kill her with your own hands!”
Another blue-feathered crow cried, “Wolf Claw! Leopard Claw!”
Upon hearing the keyword “Wolf Claw,” the colored succubus became interested, grabbing each other’s hands and singing a poem. The essence was: there was a traveler who obtained a wish-granting wolf claw, wishing for his child to die; again, he wished for the child to be revived, but the child that returned was a zombie who crazily tore apart the entire family.
But George paid them no mind; he dashed to Jima’s corpse. Her upper half looked like a charred piece of wood, skewered among a pile of rotten flesh. As he grasped the magical claw, his severed fingers stained the crown’s edge with blood, trembling as he placed the crown on Jima’s head.
A surge of power immediately flooded into Jima’s corpse. She opened her eyes but did not recognize George. Her body expanded, transforming into a monster, with all her desires before death reflected in her form.
She had a beautiful face, clean and pure; a well-defined waist and arms, but her lower half was a patchwork creature, composed of many faces of demons sewn together.
“I am the king! The king of kings, the great king!” the monster calling itself Jima roared at George: “Who are you, mortal! Daring to wield a weapon before me! George? Who? Oh, hero! I will kill you!”
George nearly died. He cried out Jima’s true name: “Wanziqi!”
Jima’s red eyes dimmed slightly before she screamed, covering her face with ten hands, speaking softly, “I, I, kill me!”
At this moment, the pig-faced demon strategist waved the flag of the forward team and, along with the horsemen of the apocalypse, surrounded her: “The great lord is powerful! The great lord is powerful! Congratulations to the great lord for becoming the eternal divine chosen!”
When Jima donned the Demon King’s crown, all the Armies of Annihilation felt the coronation of the new king. Outside the city walls, the soldiers of the forward team raised their weapons or claws, cheering for victory; they had heard Jima’s voice, rejoicing for the legion they followed becoming the eternal divine chosen.
“Promise! Promise! Promise!”
They shouted in unison, having fought for Jima till dawn, unwavering and bloodied, demanding Jima fulfill her promises.
Eternal divine chosen! Yes, I am the eternal divine chosen! Jima shed the false pretense, her eyes crazed: “Promise, yes!”
The pig-faced demon strategist’s wide mouth split into a huge grin; the horsemen of the apocalypse looked on eagerly, happiest were Jima’s guard, knowing the demon they followed had become the eternal divine chosen, and they wouldn’t have to serve as cannon fodder.
Jima’s waist lengthened; her back presented perfectly to the four-hooved dragon, soaring high above, looking down at the burning Adolf and all the demons, she declared loudly: “I will fulfill my promise to bring a grand slaughter feast to my followers!”
The voice of eternal divine chosen Jima swayed ethereally, reaching every ear among the Armies of Annihilation, and the outer demonic armies erupted in fervor.
“Take up your weapons! Open your mouths and bite the person next to you! Others constitute the feast!”
The cheers suddenly paused as everyone pondered whether this newly appointed eternal divine chosen might be insane.
Eternal divine chosen Jima, with her arms, used her voice as a medium, unleashing her ability to stir desires and curses, continued shouting: “Blood god followers! I know you’ve been dissatisfied watching the lecherous followers beside you! Whether it’s to cut someone or be cut, make sure to shred their soft flesh with your great axes!”
Fiery fervor spread through the ears of all the Armies of Annihilation with Jima’s voice.
“Lecherous followers! Look at that bunch only concerned with killing to satisfy their lowly desires, don’t you want to use your tongues and claws to let them taste much higher cravings?”
“Depraved followers!…”
Before Jima could finish, the followers of the blood god and blood demon could not wait and lunged toward the other three divine armies.
Between the four divine entities, there had originally been rifts, merely subdued by the authority of the eternal divine chosen. Now Jima instead fanned the flames, provoking emotions, and all the demon races’ desire to kill surged as they turned against one another.
The eternal divine chosen Jima last shouted: “Wherever the blood of the blood god flows! Kill! Kill! Kill!”
These were her words, and she did fulfill her promise—a historically unprecedented feast of slaughter, with the food being every participant in the banquet.
Hardly had the promise fallen when the entire world of Armies of Annihilation began to engage in a bloody melee.
The pig-faced demon strategist was dumbfounded, whispering, “This is not the outcome I wanted.”
As the promise fell, the surrounding horsemen of the apocalypse rushed to slay him.
Oan, the great vortex.
The coalition of higher beings and ancient holy sons was struggling under the assault of the Armies of Annihilation.
Everyone was surprised to see the demon armies in the front suddenly turn upon each other, embroiled in chaotic fighting, blood flowing wildly, each acting as if insane.
They seized the opportunity to strike back, clearing the threats before them; meanwhile, the final battlefield also took this chance to annihilate the Armies of Annihilation.
The eternal divine chosen Jima had completely lost her mind; no matter how George called out her true name, she still wielded a branch-turned-gun and crazily charged at him.
George severed the head of the eternal divine chosen Jima, and her body collapsed, breaking into hideous chunks of flesh.
The master of deception paid no further mind to them. He watched the mundane Armies of Annihilation turn upon one another, applause never ceasing; historians worldwide would record this event, noting that crows in many places flapped their wings with both wings.
By midday, the great vortex had successfully descended, mostly consuming the magical winds. The level of the magical winds dropped dramatically, while surviving demons turned into mist, unable to appear in the world.
A day of white spiritual entities fell.
A winter rain washed away all corruption from Adolf, erasing the filth left behind by the deviant, leaving Adolf clean and clear once again.
This winter rain also signified the end of autumn in Adolf.
The residents of Adolf City had mostly perished. Only a few survivors remained, along with a small garrison; mostly, the expeditionary forces of the Empire outside the city left Adolf as a dead city. Still, there lingered a trace of breath.
George refused to accept Jima’s death; he collected all the pieces of flesh she left behind and placed them with the Demon King’s crown. The pieces gradually fused into a ball of fleshy jade, but soon discovered that this mass could not transmit corruption radiating to both ends and couldn’t be left in one place for too long.
As war veterans swept the battlefield, they found many strange items, which George confirmed had fallen from Jima’s dream palace, including the corpse of Richard the Lionheart.
All the knights who entered the city with Richard the Lionheart had perished. Outside the city, fewer than five hundred knights of the chivalrous army survived; they gathered around the coffin, together carrying Richard the Lionheart’s coffin, covered by a banner of chivalry, turning back toward their homeland, proud yet mournful.
The Emperor of the Empire had died; his arms were nowhere to be found. The mourning soldiers placed him in a coffin, proclaiming him one of the greatest emperors. This era would be named after him, the Karlfranz Era, standing alongside the pious Magnus Era and the Sigma Era in the history of the Empire.
“The Emperor has fallen!”
“The Emperor has fallen!”
Accompanied by the sound of people weeping.
From the corpse pit emerged the one-armed Acanis, who heard this sound and wiped his eye with his single bone, smiling, “The Emperor is dead!
He happily jumped up, bouncing: “I’m free! Free!”
Acanis joyfully shed tears, tossing aside his big huntsman’s hat. “The Emperor is dead! I’m free! Yay! Oh no!”
Acanis collided with someone and cursed, “Can’t you see? Don’t you look at the road?”
His voice gradually weakened. The figure blocking his path wore a hooded cloak, revealing a beautiful face once the hood was lifted. With silver long hair, her features were doll-like in their delicacy, her eyes seemed like blood rubies, glistening with a smile as she looked at Acanis.
After a moment, “No! Don’t do this!”
Half-dragged into the coffin by the black horse, Acanis screamed helplessly as he was pulled into the coffin.
Just as the coffin lid closed, it was yanked open again.
Acanis burst forth from the upper part but was quickly dragged back; his lone hand latched onto the coffin. Two slender, snow-white arms embraced his pants, yet displayed an unstoppable strength, slowly drawing Acanis into the coffin, causing his nails to scrape noisily against the coffin as they turned over.
“Not like this! Ah!”
He was fully dragged into the coffin, and several muted thuds sounded from the coffin lid. Subsequently, a black horse cart carried the coffin away, flying through the air.
Later, people found Acanis’s high-crowned hat and recognized it as his sacrifice in battle, recording a passage on him in history.
After the war, the hero St. Henry disappeared without a word, returning to his hometown with numerous honors and many scars. When the plowing season came, this one-armed veteran used his only remaining hand to drag a plow made of rusted iron, cultivating the field, occasionally turning up the bones of the fallen.
While he was sweating and bent over drinking water by the river, he saw the reflection of a red-haired ponytail, raised his head, and saw the wood elf Kellen standing across the river.
The short engineer demon was employed by the chosen Emperor Chen to develop various flame weapons; the strange data George left behind greatly inspired him.
Meanwhile, far away in the White City, a chubby orange cat continued to sit on the rooftop, waiting for its owner to come find it.
