Apocalypse Forecast

To desire world peace, to want humanity united, to hope for a beautiful future, or to let justice prevail forever... Compared to such excessively luxurious wishes, killing something is actually a very simple matter.

Because life is inherently fragile.

Before reaching the legendary Fourth Stage Star Antimony, all beings are mere mortals.

No matter what kind of miraculous incarnations or Sublimators they are, once someone's throat is slit or their heart is pierced, death becomes the inevitable next occurrence.

In other words, if one could seek a solution by destroying something, it proves much simpler than creating something worthy of admiration.

Murder is just such an affair.

A shortcut, a universal solution, not necessarily the best choice, but always able to handle an emergency, allowing a terrible gaffe to be smoothed over, offering a crisp resolution to an entangled mess.

If laziness is sought and cost-effectiveness is valued, then there is no more appropriate method than this.

Therefore, the Execution Pyre, the Tribunal, and the Judges came into being.

From their very first day, they schemed with calculated hearts, contemplating how to clean, sweep, even slaughter Heretics with the greatest efficiency.

Through ninety-nine percent perspiration and one percent inspiration, tools like 'Van Essen' were invented.

Citing the Genesis in the first chapter of the Holy Book and extracting legends of Vampires, they fashioned this 'Heretic of our own,' allowing the monster to temporarily exist in the light.

Endowed with incredible killing techniques and unbreakable commandments, burdened with unforgivable original sin and indelible devotion, they ultimately achieved an undeniable greatness and a history too dark to be acknowledged.

"I know your deeds, your toil, and perseverance, your hatred of evil, you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not, and have found them to be false..."

In the ghastly white fog, a hoarse whisper emerged.

Following that, a burst of crimson unfurled, dyeing the lingering fog with a strand of desolate red.

From the howl of the Wolf muters, a fleeting figure pressed forward, whispering softly as the Short Knife and Axe in his hands fell, "I know your deeds, you have a reputation of being alive, but you are dead…"

Huai Shi stepped forward. Feeling the madness and rage burning within his chest, he lifted his bloodshot eyes, swept the Short Knife, and decapitated the head before him.

"You must repent, remember what you have received and heard, and hold fast to it. If you do not wake up, I will come like a nightmare, suddenly, when you least expect…"

Thus, he preached to the deceased.

This was the ultimate sacred sermon.

With no deliberate seeking, it came naturally, flowing as smoothly as breath that seemed nonexistent.

Though a cold-blooded creature, under the stimulation of silver, the pulsing blood appeared to boil, igniting him, burning him as he moved through this deadly fog, to bring about more death.

Accompanied by wolf howls, more and more Wolf muters converged, rushing into the fog. Yet, Lei Feizhou staggered backward, exerting all his strength to pull out the arrow embedded in his neck.

Whether from severe pain or detestation, his shattered face became even more hideous.

But even pulling out the arrow, the wound did not heal as expected, nor was pain felt, only a chilling numbness—complete necrosis.

This was a kind of damage not even Werewolves with Divine Nature in their lineage could repair.

"What poison is this!"

"It's chocolate."

Someone examined his vaguely transformed wolfish face, whispering into his ear, "I coated the blade with chocolate."

Lei Feizhou turned in alarm, only to see the dark figure defying gravity, inverted on the ceiling, and the Axe Blade lifting up towards his own face.

The dark green Axe Blade rippled with an enticing sweetness.

Lei Feizhou instinctively leaned back.

Then, metal struck bone, sparking fire.

Crisscrossed fractures carved an inverted cross on Lei Feizhou's face, and blood gushed forth.

Before he could react, the dark shadow drove a Short Knife into Lei Feizhou's vitals from midair, tearing apart the roar bubbling within him with a twist of the wrist.

Once again, those bloodstained eyes appeared before Lei Feizhou, this time with a burning glow.

The whistling of the wind finally rose from Huai Shi's hand.

The Heavy Ax swirled above his head, and descended once more towards Lei Feizhou's face!

In the final instant, Lei Feizhou managed to crush the Amulet on his neck.

CRASH!

Sparks flew as the Axe Blade scraped across the inky fingers.

It was blocked!

Sharp claws sprang from Lei Feizhou's fingers, turning in an instant into black blades, and his mutilated palm regrew bones, flesh, and dark hairs in a flash.

With a hoarse roar, Lei Feizhou's body surged, his skull altered with a sound like twisting steel, his nose elongating, his eye sockets deepening.

In an instant, the true nature of the Werewolf was revealed from beneath the former disguise.

Amid the entangled tufts of hair, faint electrical arcs shot forth. With a mere gesture, he left a dazzling trail in the air, ripping through the obstructive deck plating as if it were paper-thin.

The confined room crumbled in an instant, and even the silver fog was dispersed by the gale stirred up by the thunder, revealing a scene full of blood and wreckage.

And the other hand, now several times larger, thundered toward Huai Shi's face amidst the roar!

The punch, wreathed in lightning, collided with the Ax handle, flinging Huai Shi against the wall. He almost smashed right out of the cabin and into the sea.

Feeling the tingling numbness spreading through his arm, Huai Shi gasped for air and lifted his head, staring at the unrecognizable Lei Feizhou, "Nice getup, you should've brought it out sooner."

The werewolf's face twisted even further. Clearly, this state wasn't something he could simply use at will. The blessings bestowed by the gods were limited and did not permit their servants to squander them recklessly. However, once unleashed, they were enough to turn the tides of battle.

Now, with his howling, the Werewolves in the corridor tore through the walls and rushed into the cabin, completely surrounding the place, while the mist that offered concealment had vanished without a trace.

Lei Feizhou sneered, "I must say, you've missed your last chance to escape."

"You're mistaken about one thing."

Huai Shi reapplied the deadly Sword Oil to his axe and calmly responded, "I never considered fleeing."

Lei Feizhou paused for a moment, then, unable to suppress a mocking smile:

"All of this for an NPC?"

An NPC?

Just an NPC?

Huai Shi looked down at the blood-stained dictionary in his arms but didn't answer.

He had so much he wanted to say, wanted to tell the Inspector behind Lei Feizhou: Many people, like you, become Sublimators and then treat everything like an extravagant game... even though we do not live within a game.

They mess everything up without a care or respect, causing chaos, leaving a mess behind, and then laughingly tell you to relax, it's just a game, I didn't mean to hurt you, you're just an NPC.

But for those who died as a result, it's not a game.

Death is real, cruel and sorrowful, repulsive. It never changes, no matter how many times it's experienced.

It shouldn't be something that can be brushed off with flimsy excuses and reasons.

But in the end, saying all this is pointless.

Weak words alone will never persuade anyone—otherwise, why would the Judgement Court exist, why create something like Van Essen?

For some reason, Huai Shi was suddenly reminded of the village in the records again.

And those who died, the old people, women, and children—their hunched, lifeless bodies lying in pools of blood, their hollow eyes reflecting a desolate world.

They silently perished in an insignificant struggle sixty years ago, like weeds.

Unknown, unremembered.

Except by Huai Shi alone.

So, he clenched his axe, whispered his reply, "Yes, for an NPC."

"I now believe what Yin Yan said. You're clearly not Ai Qing...," the Inspector behind Lei Feizhou sneered. "At least, she wouldn't be as foolish as you."

"Really? You probably haven't seen her when she's angry," Huai Shi said, calmly staring at the Werewolf through the crowd of rampaging Werewolves. "But anyway, I should thank you."

Thank you for reminding me once again—how powerless 'someone who can't even save an NPC' really is.

In that instant, the knife and axe in Huai Shi's hands collided. The Demon Hunter lifted his blood-red eyes, baring his teeth in a savage grin that matched the beasts before him.

"—Come!"

He took a step forward.

Sparks flew, and the sound of clashing steel rang out—the axe cleaved through the air!

The tense bowstring snapped at that moment.

The brief calm shattered, like ice breaking, as towering waves erupted with a thunderous roar.

In the midst of the Werewolves' howls, blood spurted from beneath the Axe Blade, staining that pale face red. He took a second step, lurching forward through the turbulent crowd!

Ignoring the tears ripped open on his back, Huai Shi lifted the axe and struck again!

Flesh and bone splintered, severed heads and limbs flew through the air. Then, the Short Knife thrust forward, piercing a throat, swinging sideways, spraying a swath of blood.

Countless dark purple veins surfaced on his neck, extending upwards, covering Huai Shi's face like layers of Spider Silk.

Plasma mixed with silver and various Alchemy Potions had long been injected into his veins from a needle beneath his sleeve cuff, bringing him endless pain and strength.

It was like drinking poison to quench his thirst.

But his mind grew incredibly calm, like a chunk of ice thrown into the deep sea.

The knife and axe in his hand danced, drawing complex arcs, fleetingly sketching bloody trails.

Huai Shi flung his arm, firing the last Crossbow Arrow behind him, not looking at the one nailed to the wall but instead bit down on a Wolf muter's throat, greedily sucking the blood that signified life. He then ripped through his windpipe, finishing him off with a lethal blow from the Axe Blade.

The wolf poison mingling in his blood was killed by the toxins in his bloodstream.

He forged ahead.

Through the siege of blood and death, he bellowed a roar.