Chapter 381 Fire
Mirkavala, the Skaven's offensive became more and more rapid, and now they did not care about the losses.
When a large group of sewer rats entered the temple, Sasoril finally got his chance.
The vampires and rats no longer hesitated and overwhelmed the lone guard. He was indeed a dedicated guard. The tidal flood could not flow through the seemingly porous net, but the Lord of Change had his own way.
The crow's shadow stretched into a grotesque human shape, and the powerful bird claws took advantage of the bloody battle between the guards and countless thieves to suddenly penetrate the already fragile defense circle.
Maybe it's a long battle, or it may be overload.
The burning sensation in his abdomen almost moved Lynch, until at some point, his abdominal cavity suddenly cooled down and no longer provided energy.
The supply gradually couldn't keep up with the consumption, and the lizard man lost his last drop of blood. The unbearable pain tortured Lynch, but the pain was far less unbearable than the powerlessness and weakness.
When the undead blade cut through Lynch's scales again, the wound did not heal.
The world blurred into a swaying shadow, the noise and riot faded away, and Lynch used his last bit of strength to pound the body of the Undead Supreme, just like every mortal who tried to fight back.
Amid the sound of drums and horns, Angras the Unbound split reality with an axe. The sharp shadow enveloped the demons or mortals who had not yet had time to retreat. In the next moment, the flaming axe of fear chopped the body of the great necromancer and the lizard man into pieces.
A blue gem floated where Lynch had existed before, dotted in the suspended silver armor, a glowing scepter stood quietly on one side, and above it was a golden statue.
The silver chain that the archmage had gifted to the lizardman fell into the dust, stained with mud.
The violent conflict stopped in an instant, and all beings saw the gem that seemed to represent the universe. The Undead Supreme calmed down his anger in an instant, and could not wait to take the blue diamond that seemed to contain everything.
But in the next change of the world, they disappeared, leaving only chains made of Isemara's silver on the ground.
It was like lying deep in the sun, with light and heat enveloping Lynch. He wanted to open his eyes, but he couldn't do this simple action.
It was as if he had turned into a fluid, and yet as if he had been divided into billions of parts. He seemed to be a living being, and yet also a unique individual.
He saw the ape-men shed their fur and turned into more retro-looking humans. He also saw silver arcs of light flying all over the sky, and the earth and ocean undergoing drastic changes at all times.
Lynch rises and falls among all living beings, and seems to travel back and forth between the end and the beginning of time.
His vision was split into thousands of parts, some in the depths of the universe, some in the thunder, and some in the reflection on the water.
Until one moment, He was picked up by a primate.
Time is frozen in the evening of the Ice Age, and space is fixed in a cave that has just been illuminated.
The primitive races gathered around Him in awe and spoke His name: "Fire!"
The blazing orange-red color occupied all of Lynch's mind, and the billions of fragments found their main body one after another, rising to the sky, and to places higher than the sky and beyond the universe.
He overlooked the blue planet at the end of infinity, from the time when the bipedal races first discovered fire to the time when they developed settlements and worshiped the power of nature.
He saw bipeds building cities on the earth and forging towers of wonders and civilization.
This continued until he realized he was falling.
The planet was getting closer and closer to him, and he felt countless existences that were the same as himself. He saw the poles of the planet being twisted into wasteland by the great power, and chaos ruled the world from then on.
The kingdom of heaven is devouring the mortal world, and it is foreseeable that mortals do not want to enter the so-called kingdom of heaven of the gods.
The invisible war began higher up in the world. Lynch witnessed its end. Then, across dozens of centuries, he witnessed the mortals reclaiming the wasteland and building one shaky kingdom after another.
The powerful ones appeared one after another and disappeared one after another.
Time and space were changing chaotically. One moment he was in ancient times, and the next moment he was in the future.
Just when Lynch was about to forget his name, he saw Lustria.
Mirkavala held down Sasoril with another pair of sharp bird claws. The mirror god looked down at the loser triumphantly and pushed him in front of the star staff of the temple guard under its angry glare.
The fear of vampires and rats pleases the "Child of Fate", and as it judges - everything is planned.
Hotar looked with pleasure at the impotent and furious Undead Supreme, and the councillors in the Wasted Rat Demon City whose anxiety and hideous smiles had disappeared.
Carlos's whisper lingered coldly in the ears of the Lord of Change, which became an embellishment before his victory. He was even too lazy to listen carefully to the expression of the "Weaver of Fate", which was nothing more than the wailing of a loser.
It exchanged a malicious glance with the indifferent magic toad in the spiritual realm, and at this moment it extended its thoughts to the side of the "Great Whirlpool" and ridiculed the several elven wizards who were struggling there.
Look! The will of the Lord of Change has become clear, and a new god is about to be born.
Under the gazes of everyone, some shocked and some angry, just as the temple guards were about to tear Sasoril apart and rush to the "Mirror God", Hotar suddenly stabbed his claws into the divine fire.
But it felt hard and smooth scales.
Even the Lord of Change felt the looming absurdity, and the demon's smile disappeared, just like those beings who had just discovered its arrival.
The demon had an uneasy premonition and wanted to look back at the flames, but the floating pyramid falling from the sky above the Broken Dome was more eye-catching.
The pyramid turned into a shadow before it fell, and an ancient saint's mark instantly crossed the remaining distance and fell into the flames.
The demon was unusually nervous, and the next moment when time began to flow, it suppressed its uneasiness and looked towards the flame.
The divine fire had an outline, but undoubtedly, that was not the shape it should have.
The glittering scales that made the demon sick became even more dazzling under the illumination of the flames, and the cold-blooded creature's looming figure made the demon subconsciously want to retract his hand.
Lynch slightly clenched his hand, and a glittering scepter appeared in his palm.
A silver carapace replaced his dorsal fin, and a space engine was beating slowly in his abdomen.
Maybe he shouldn't be comparing himself to a living being now.
The material world oppresses Lynch's spirit, and his existence distorts reality, but reality is also trying its best to resist his invasion.
Lynch grabbed the demon who wanted to escape. In its confused and self-doubting vision, the scepter was like a flash of lightning, or a ray of light piercing the darkness, and it cleanly chopped off the demon's bird head.
Green smoke spread from the demon's wounds, and piercing screams echoed throughout the city.
You can stop subscribing, what follows is just the ending. The pressure in reality is too great, my body can’t bear it, and I don’t have the energy to start. What follows is just the ending and daily life.
From the first volume, when I just started trying to storyboard, there were some strong complaints. At that time, I was not firm enough, which led to the original outline being biased. Many plots were not written, the characters were not laid out, and the sequels had to be hastily pulled out.
I tried to use conventional writing methods, but halfway through I felt sick of it, so I deleted it. Using routine is disrespectful to you, and I can’t stand it myself.
I was originally planning to salvage the second volume and get some exercise at the same time, but something happened at home and I had no choice. When I found time to write, I didn’t have the energy to think about it.
By the time he was discharged from the hospital, it was too late to save the situation. Many things that should have been laid out were not laid out, and the plots that should have been told were not told. I could only write it anyway.
Later, another accident happened in reality. There is nothing much to say, the impact was quite huge.
If you are a careful friend, you will find that many places can actually unfold a small story, but I just briefly mentioned it.
Some friends have rightly complained that what I wrote was like an enlarged outline, which is true in a sense.
I don’t have the ability to satisfy everyone, so I gave up and just kept practicing writing by changing my writing styles.
I am extremely sorry and thank you all at the same time. Without you who have seen the latest chapters, I wouldn’t have the courage to persevere until now.
The sequel will probably be to wrap up after the war, then go through daily life, practice describing details, and finally finish the book.
It’s a shame that I didn’t write a fantasy world as I originally intended.
(End of this chapter)
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