chsdbacks Chapter 532 A New Level 8?
Chapter 532 A New Level 8?
Chapter 532 A New Level 8?
The intensity of the explosion far exceeded expectations.
The first round of chain annihilation lasted a full thirty seconds.
When the air swept away by the shockwave returns, the blasted antimatter comes into contact with new matter again.
A second, even bigger wave followed.
Then came the third and fourth rounds —
Each explosion tore apart the defenses that the transmutation array had painstakingly constructed.
Each wave of attacks was consuming the mental energy that countless wizards had desperately poured into them.
Deep within the camp, the wizards who were channeling their spiritual energy were as pale as paper.
The sky has lost its original color.
There was only the endless, pure white light of destruction, and the defensive barrier that was torn apart and reassembled time and time again, struggling to hold on.
Dionysius stood at the highest point of the command room, his hands clasped tightly together.
He is waiting.
In the distance, the Allied forces camp.
At the top of the Chaos Cult's tower, several blurry figures were also watching this earth-shattering collision.
"Those lunatics from the Tower of Annihilation—" one of them muttered to himself, his voice filled with barely concealed shock, "They actually dare to do this."
"It doesn't matter to them, since if they win, the battlefield is theirs," another person said calmly. "Even if they lose, they don't lose anything."
"Heh, let's go, it's time for us to get started."
The Sea of Destruction continues to expand wildly.
At Norren Workshop, all the wizards who were still conscious were desperately squeezing out their mental energy to manipulate the Ultra Wide Area Transmutation Array, creating layer upon layer of protection for the camp amidst the continuous annihilation explosions.
No one has the spare energy to focus on other directions.
-
No one noticed that on the other side of this plane ravaged by the antimatter frenzy, a region that had always been hidden by layers of phase space was undergoing changes.
The Chaos Cult has revealed its trump card.
It was a huge cavity hidden deep underground.
Unlike the simple and brutal antimatter sphere of the Tower of Annihilation, the Chaos Cult's layout was much more concealed.
From the very first day of the war, this void has been hidden within a complex interlayer of phase space, guarded in shifts by three level-seven soul wizards, thus isolating it from all possible detection.
Even the soul-type wizards of Norren Workshop, after paying a huge price, could only barely capture one scene before having to retreat with serious injuries.
Inside the cavity, a gray-black mist churned like an ocean.
However, the source of the fog was different from what Norren Workshop had previously speculated.
The emotional energy of millions of wizards was indeed collected.
The fear, despair, and madness generated by the billions of cannon fodder units in the battle were indeed collected.
But these are just "add-ons".
The true entity is suspended in the deepest part of the void, shrouded by heavy seals, a profound darkness that seems capable of swallowing everything.
That mass of blackness had no temperature, no energy fluctuations, and not even a sense of existence.
It simply floated there quietly, yet it evoked an uncontrollable lament from the depths of the soul in everyone who saw it.
That is—death itself.
It is not the death of a particular life.
Rather, it is the death of a plane.
This massive plane, which serves as a battlefield, is itself composed of dozens of abandoned planes pieced together.
When those planes were pieced together, all life had already been wiped out and all resources had been completely drained.
In the words of the wizards, they were already "dead".
But death does not mean utter nothingness.
The Chaos Cult's latest technology can collect the "wailing" that arises at the moment of death in these planes—the remnants of will that belong to the complete end of a world, containing endless sorrow and despair—and transform them into a usable energy form.
This "plane-death level" emotional energy is of a quality far exceeding that of ordinary beings.
If the emotions of millions of wizards are a stream, then the lamentations of death in a plane are a vast ocean.
The Chaos Cult has collected the deaths of more than a dozen planes on this battlefield.
In that pitch-black depths, churning, was the despair of the end of more than a dozen worlds.
This is the real killer move that can damage an eighth-level wizard.
Of course, the high-ranking wizards of the Chaos Cult were well aware that the combined power of the deaths from these dozen or so planes could only have a relatively minor impact on one of the two level-eight wizards at the Norn Workshop.
But in a battle between level eight wizards, even a "relatively minor influence" is enough to tip the scales.
That's enough to determine the winner.
"The time has come."
The seventh-level wizard in charge of manipulating the trump card raised his head and, through the barriers of layers of rock and phase space, sensed the antimatter frenzy still raging in the distance.
All of Norren Workshop's resources were focused on fighting against the devastating sea.
Every bit of energy in the ultra-wide-area transmutation array was used to construct defenses and deflect explosions.
They had no time to spare for anything else.
"Initiate transfer".
The order has been issued.
The enormous void that had been hidden for over a month, along with the gray-black mist inside and the pitch-black core, began to slowly emerge from the phase space.
It appeared on the ground so quietly, like a bubble rising from the water.
Then, the auxiliary magic arrays that had been set up around the void were simultaneously activated.
Those magic arrays had only one purpose: to launch out the ball of pitch-black energy that contained the death wails of dozens of planes.
The target is those four "suns" hanging high in the sky.
That was a battlefield between level eight wizards from both sides.
Four "suns" floated silently in the sky tens of thousands of kilometers away, releasing light and heat enough to illuminate the entire plane.
Deep within that light, four figures, invisible to ordinary people, were engaged in a game of strategy that defied conventional understanding.
"Coordinate correction complete, target locked, prepare for launch!"
The dark gray fog churned violently.
The core was pitch black and suddenly expanded.
In the next instant, a torrent of energy, over a kilometer in diameter and formed entirely from the wails of death from different planes, burst forth from the darkness!
Wherever it passed, all living beings that sensed it, whether constructs still fighting on the battlefield or wizards in distant camps, felt an overwhelming sense of despair welling up from the bottom of their hearts at the same moment.
That was the lament of the end of more than a dozen worlds.
That's the taste of "death" itself.
A torrent of energy, as dark as an abyss, carrying a terrifying power that could make even a seventh-level wizard tremble, shot straight toward one of the four "suns" in the sky!
"It's a success!"
The wizards of the Chaos Cult couldn't help but show expressions of excitement.
However, the expressions on the faces of all the Chaos Mystic Wizards quickly froze.
Because, just as that ball of black energy was about to rush into the area enveloped by the light, it stopped.
It is not slowed down, deflected, or canceled out.
Instead, it came to a complete standstill in a way that was completely unexpected by everyone.
That torrent of death, a kilometer in diameter and powerful enough to influence the battle between level eight wizards, hovered silently in mid-air, as if time itself had frozen around it.
On the Chaos Cult's side, all the wizards who witnessed this scene were stunned.
"What's going on?!"
"Is there a problem with the magic circle?"
"Impossible! All nodes are functioning normally!"
The seventh-level wizard in charge of manipulating the trump card frowned deeply, his mental energy surging wildly into the magic circle in an attempt to reactivate that ball of dark energy.
However, no matter how he tried to urge it, the torrent of death remained motionless, like an insect frozen in amber.
But the members of the Chaos Cult soon realized something was wrong, because it wasn't just that.
The distant sea of destruction—the endless annihilation tide caused by the explosion of two trillion tons of antimatter—had also stopped.
All the explosions, all the impacts, all the spreading destructive energy, froze in the same instant.
The antimatter fragments blasted away, the white light released during the annihilation, the shockwaves tearing through space—
Everything was like an image that had been paused, frozen in its own place.
The battlefield was deathly silent.
On the coalition camp side, everyone was rubbing their eyes, refreshing their senses, and restarting their detection spells with all their might.
"What on earth happened?!"
No one can answer.
Just as all the wizards in the allied forces were feeling uneasy, something even more terrifying happened.
A surge of spiritual energy, so powerful it defied description, spread out without warning.
The fluctuation was completely untargeted; it simply spread across the entire plane like a tide.
But the lingering effect of this fluctuation alone was enough to cause all living beings that sensed it to suddenly go black!
That was the soul's instinctive submission and trembling before that vast and boundless spiritual power.
Inside the camp, countless wizards below level five collapsed to the ground.
The level six wizards barely managed to steady themselves, but their faces were as pale as paper.
At that moment, the seventh-level wizards also felt a sense of insignificance from the depths of their souls, like ants gazing at the starry sky.
The fluctuation lasted for less than three seconds.
But when it dissipates, a lingering realization remains in everyone's mind—
That is————
Level 8 power!
Although this power did not touch the fixed laws, it could not be immune to the ninth level of world modification.
However, in terms of quantity, it truly reached level eight!
Saladin, the current supreme commander of the coalition forces, was the first to recover from that dazed state.
He is a veteran level seven wizard who has experienced countless interdimensional wars and seen countless powerful figures.
But at this moment, his usually composed face was now marred by a complex expression that mixed shock, bitterness, and deep helplessness.
He paused, a bitter smile appearing on his lips: "We lost."
These two words were spoken very lightly.
But all the high-ranking wizards of the allied forces present heard it.
No one refuted.
Because in the instant that terrifying spiritual wave swept over them, everyone understood—
The war is over.
No matter how terrifying the antimatter reserves of the Tower of Annihilation are, no matter how many planes' death wails the Chaos Cult has collected, no matter how much advantage the two allied forces have in terms of basic troops—
When the opponent creates a new level-eight combatant and personally intervenes in the battlefield, everything loses its meaning.
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