"The god suffers. The god rages. The primordial calamity burns our great deity."

The robed figures seated around the round table remained shrouded in deep shadow. Only the semi-transparent thread in their hands glimmered with an eerie light under the faint candle glow.

"All the pawns are dead. There is nothing left for us to do."

Silence fell. Even their strongest stood only at Chapter Three. Yet reaching that realm meant little—they’d learned scarcely any combat skills, hollow shells forcibly elevated by divine power. In truth, they differed little from those at Chapter Two.

Worse, most believers and pawns they’d cultivated had been purged by an unknown Magic Maiden. Years of meticulous planning for the deity’s revival had nearly collapsed within a single month.

"Then… shall we proceed with an early divine descent?"

One robed figure lowered her hood, revealing Blood’s silhouette. A chilling smile spread across her face, freezing every soul at the table. Who could have guessed the pawn they called Blood had planted a hidden piece among them?

"You are the pawns."

Blood held no warmth for them. While professing faith, they’d hunted Magic Maidens to steal divine power. She was one of the captured—seven years of torment. Countless clones were made; only one labeled "Original" succeeded. They all knew the truth: the Original had long perished.

Compared to these hollow believers, Blood’s faith ran purer. She longed for the deity’s descent—to burn this damned world to ash. Only then would she find salvation.

"Don’t move!"

A robed figure flashed an Array Pattern glowing in her palm—a Magic Tool embedded not in the brain like sci-tech chips, but deep within the heart. It could sabotage Blood’s body from within, freezing her blood in an instant.

Blood showed no fear. Gripping her blood scythe tightly, she advanced step by step. With a gentle swing, she severed the nearest robed figure’s head.

"I am not the 'Original.' Even as a clone blessed with the deity’s blood, I surpass any ordinary Chapter Three. How can you—forcibly elevated shells—possibly defeat me?"

Blood splattered mid-laugh. Crimson droplets coalesced from the air, pulsing with eerie life. They twisted into razor-sharp spikes and rained down like a storm. The robed figures staggered, stunned. They dodged desperately, but the spikes came too fast, too many.

*Thwip. Thwip.* Piercing cries filled the air. Bodies trembled, robes torn, flesh pierced—until only a crimson thicket of spikes remained.

Seeing them broken, Blood snatched the slender, semi-transparent cord. If the heart was the body’s core, this was the nexus binding all.

"If we don’t revive now… it’s too late."

Her avatars across districts stirred. Nearly one-third of the seals shattered. The deity’s limbs, torso, bones, skin—began reassembling.

The two remaining Eye Orbs in the Seekers’ tower trembled under the nexus’s pull. But the Seekers refused to yield them. The entire tower sank, sealing the struggling orbs deep underground. Temporary. The deity’s eyes would break free.

"Yet the deity lacks heart and brain. Without a heart, no eternal circulation. Without a brain, only a beast obeying instinct—bearing the name of god, void of its essence."

"Per the dying message from Second District and energy leaks above it… they’ve unsealed the heart. It’s in their hands. But without Seeker technology, how did they contain a fragment of the deity?"

Blood’s eyes narrowed. Could they possess power to slay a deity? Intel spoke of an unknown Magic Maiden wielding jet-black flames—eerily akin to the Calamity Dragon’s.

*Could the Calamity Dragon’s flame kill a god?*

If true, she must die before ascending to the Ultimate.

"To face her… requires Ultimate Realm power. No—two, even more. The energy surge at that site dwarfed Chapter Three. Crimson may have already reached the Ultimate Realm…"

"Worthy of Crimson. The younger generation’s pride—reaching the Ultimate through sheer will, no divine crutch."

Blood gazed at the deity’s faint silhouette. She recalled: the god possessed an eye said to create all. Retrieve it… perfect the heart… restore the cycle.

"O deity, grant your power. Let the world witness your terror."

The silhouette stirred. An arm without a hand reached into the void, plucking a pitch-black orb. It settled before Blood. She bowed reverently, cradling it in her palms.

She drew a single strand into herself. Her fractured body hummed toward wholeness. Given time, she’d surpass the Original.

"Your will be done."

Blood tore open a spatial rift. Twelve shadows emerged. She showed them a blurry satellite photo. Instantly locked on target, they raced without pause toward the Fourth District.

Alone, Blood stared at the deity’s form, deep in thought.

…

Meanwhile, Order and Jin Yunan slipped easily into the Order Keepers’ tower with mere words. Now waiting inside Azure’s cottage, they awaited Night Frost’s next command.

Night Frost had urged them to search deeper. She’d *seen* the Calamity Dragon’s corpse flee that tower—something remained hidden within.

She herself stood in the wasteland between Second and Fourth Districts. Trouble arrived: several Monsters blocked her path. The moment she stepped from the car, they ignored her entirely, fleeing wildly.

Unnatural. Mindless Monsters would’ve devoured her. Now? Running for their lives. Only one explanation: driven by something far stronger.

"What… what *is* that?!"

On the horizon, a pitch-black tide surged forth, silent and relentless. It swallowed withered grass, ruins, mountains—leaving them stripped bare, fragile as exposed souls.

"Holy crap—it’s the Mud King!!"

Night Frost recognized it instantly. Ignoring the jolt of pain in her injured limbs, she yelled at the driver:

"If you value your life—GO! NOW! RUN!"

She’d witnessed the Mud King’s horror: trading blows with the Guardian of the Seventh District (who’d broken through to the Ultimate), even slaying multiple Chapter Three Magic Maidens. Facing it now? A pipe dream.

The driver didn’t hesitate. A decade with Yin Tianchen at Rouge Rabbit honed his instincts. If a Chapter Three feared it—it was no ordinary Monster.

"Don’t worry," he grinned, removing his glasses. "Back in my day? They called me the Akina Speed King!"

He slammed the accelerator. The engine roared like a waking beast. Tires screeched, white smoke swirling. He carved through winding roads with impossible precision, gears shifting smoothly, eyes blazing with terrifying confidence.

"Hold on!"

"You could’ve warned me!!"

*CRASH!* The undercarriage hit something. The world flipped. Weightlessness seized the cabin. Night Frost’s heart leaped into her throat. Time stretched thin.

*THUD!* The car slammed down. Tires screamed. Then—like a wild stallion—it shot forward.

Night Frost glanced back. No Mud King. Relief washed over her. The driver wiped his brow, exhaling deeply.

"Exhilarating! Just like the old days!"

Night Frost clutched her head, dizzy and nauseous. *Never this route again… and NEVER this driver!*

"Wait! STOP THE CAR!!"

"Ugh…"