**Chapter 644: The Unique Viewing Mode of Farming Players**
Quietly watching the large punk leave the city wall, Kazumi gently traced the figure with her slender fingers, her green eyes seeming to be rooted in place.
She gracefully raised her hand, unhesitatingly rushing out, her visage illuminated by the crunching of bony remnants beneath her feet. The girl’s figure already appeared atop the cleft head of the slumbering dragon beast, covered in sharp bone spines.
Simply, she whispered, “Awake.”
The soul fire of the massive creature suddenly swelled, repelled hundreds of meters away by the water spirit. Its bones erupted with a thunderous sound, each wing flickering with nearby brilliance.
As the giant beast’s body continued to extend, the stones on the ground shattered, forming an unfathomable pit.
The beast gazed up at the shadow of the dragon in the sky, emitting a mournful howl. Then its immense body soared into the air, creating a vast shadow that enveloped the top of the dragon beast’s head. Kazumi stood on the city wall, maintaining a steady rhythm. Their shadows compared to the ground’s height seemed like a black arrow suspended in the sky, shooting straight down.
In the air, the shadowy giant beast took form as it soared, resembling a meteor streaking across the night sky, striking the shadow above the dragon beast’s head. Its body emitted a black aura, constantly moving on the dragon’s back, ultimately landing upon the dragon beast, forming a giant black silhouette. In the cold wind, the beast gleamed with icy light as it slowly approached the dragon’s internal organs from the side. Under the giant’s attack, the dragon beast struggled in pain, eventually collapsing to the ground. In that moment of death, the giant opened its claws, revealing sharp talons as the dragon beast fell completely to the earth, marking the loss of the last guardian of the Dragon City.
To the west of the city, a small stone peak constructed from black rock stood majestically. This was a life stone from before Kazumi’s command, intertwining with their stitched wounds, gradually repairing the damage from battle.
The small village in the west was surrounded by countless black stones. These stones, like living beings, utilized metallic elements to emit their inner strength.
On the eastern side, a net of dark green intertwined with willow fluff floated on the lake surface. On the shore, dozens of willow trees gently drooped in the wind.
Through a symbiotic relationship with the lakebed, occasionally, creatures emerged from the waters of the crocodile lord’s territory.
She stood atop a tall building, surrounded by gray spider webs, watching with blood-eyed intensity.
Small patterns moved as she softly chanted spider incantations, crawling chaotically in the corners of the ground, brimming with mysterious colors.
The punk’s subordinates were in the residential area as the spider performed her unique skills. The fallen creatures testified to her power.
“Helping you unravel the dangers, my little cuties can complete this task under assistance.”
Those small spiders accurately located each still-warm corpse, entering through the mouth and nostrils to begin squirming inside, causing the bodies to convulse irregularly. Then, with a sound like an explosion—dozens of perfect lace-like worms surged from the wounds, fixing themselves to the ground. One could only watch this scene unfold, as the souls of the fallen surged into the vast, boundless plain.
This land was originally a desolate realm reserved for ghouls. Since the ultimate skill of the ancient ghouls, these three-headed, six-armed stitched giants, with moving fortresses made of bones on their backs, wandered slowly, each step leaving deep bloodstains. Semi-transparent resentful spirits converged, forming bizarre whirlpools; wherever they passed, plants withered, animals fled in terror, and even the sky lost its color, leaving only silence.
The black eyes of the fallen nation flickered with a final glimmer amidst their painful struggles. The land was illuminated by the wise one’s screen, the message both familiar and foreign. A photo, one of a night-blooming cactus flowering quietly at the gate of his yard under the moonlight, seemed to tell an unfinished story.
In the backyard, a wolfhound trailed behind, merely a shadow of a hero, unaware of what was happening, only knowing that in this land shrouded in silence, its existence seemed to be for the purpose of guarding something.
(The End)
