Apocalypse Forecast-Chapter 689 - 567 Abnormal Hell Dome Giant_1

Amidst a sudden, mournful wail, a torrent of Source Substance swept across, pouring down from the heavens.

Within the furnace, the shattering of countless Source Crystals was incessant.

With such a bountiful sacrifice offered, and presided over by the High Priest, it finally reached the ears of the heavens.

The phantoms of the fallen gods reappeared.

From within the light, they gazed down upon Hell.

Liz raised the ritual instrument in her hands, silently intoning a chant. Soon, a sound like a roaring flood burst forth from the void. As the phantoms of the gods dispersed, a slightly more solid, imposing figure stepped out from among them.

He wore an ice-blue, ferocious mask and was entwined at the waist with four strange pottery jugs. Thunder, torrential rain, hail, and drought followed him.

His name was Traloloc.

He was the ruler of rainwater and floods, the supreme deity of drought and plague.

Now, he lifted his foot and stomped down fiercely, leaving a footprint on the ashes of the altar, then vanished silently into the air.

But the instant the footprint was branded, boundless torrents erupted from beneath the Pyramid, ravaging like an ocean—what seemed like a flood was but a spectacular transformation granted to the Source Substance by Divine Nature.

In the blink of an eye, it swept to the horizon, nearly covering half of the Town of Dusk.

From the moment he set foot here, this place became his altar; and now, wherever the light reached had already transformed into his holy land.

The fourth level of the legendary thirteen heavens, a cage inhabiting countless souls of the unjustly dead of dusk!

Using this as a wedge, it was forcibly driven into the Hell here, seizing territory, delineating boundaries, and forcefully taking control of everything within the range of the Mystic Ritual.

The light rising from the Great Pyramid enveloped the land, covering nearly a third of the Town of Dusk.

With the sweeping of the floods, countless massive machines running beneath the earth shuddered and emitted a high-pitched roar, detaching from the system of the Town of Dusk to become part of the Great Pyramid.

The Miracle Imprint—Abnormal Hell· Teralocan!

Even the angry flashes within the Central Tower were unable to restrain it. The Miracle Imprint descended here, operating between heaven and earth, as if a new soul had squeezed into this body and begun to move its arms.

The world was turned upside down. Innumerable modules rose from the ground, forming obelisks that stood like a forest, tearing apart the falling curtain of crimson rain.

The earth overturned, and countless giant cannons rose from the darkness.

These were the defense arrays left here by the Purgatory Workshop Masters of old, now completely under the control of the Ivy League.

Adjusting their directions, correcting their angles, and drawing on the vast power from beneath the Earth’s crust, they aimed at the sky and ignited their fire.

The clouds trembled, torn apart by the ascending artillery fire, creating countless rifts.

Immediately after, a rain of iron light descended from the heavens. Steel ingots, brutally forged from Source Substance and steel and heated until red-hot, turned into an apocalyptic meteor shower plummeting toward the Iron Crystal Throne.

Even from a great distance, one could still feel the scorching sting.

On the bridge of the ship, the Great Grandmaster silently watched the approaching flames, unmoved.

The workers moving nearby carried on with their tasks calmly, as if they hadn’t seen the terrifying scene, everything functioning as usual.

Only the endless watery ripples around the Iron Crystal Throne trembled slightly.

Twisted gravity spread through the air, enveloping the entire giant submarine. It formed an invisible deep sea that swallowed all the artillery fire from the sky.

It couldn’t even breach the outermost defenses.

Amidst the barrage of cannon fire, a blazing flash suddenly emerged, as if a mighty spirit in a rage had cast its weapon forth.

The light coalesced into the sharp phantom of a Stone Tooth Sword, tearing through the deep sea of gravity, advancing layer by layer.

Electric light wrapped around it, and a thunderous roar followed.

Legend told that the thunder in the sky dome was the Rain God shattering pottery jars filled with disaster, unleashing destruction upon humanity.

The flash of lightning passed in an instant, but nothing happened.

The Stone Tooth Sword vanished into thin air.

As if it had never existed.

Only an imposing silhouette lingered faintly behind the great submarine...

It was a vague phantom, half-kneeling on the ground, as if lost in deep thought. In that brief moment, it did not reveal any aura of wisdom or scholarship but instead radiated unparalleled power and an indescribable majesty.

A massive Giant crouched beneath the Iron Crystal Throne.

Bearing the entire sea of gravity, it hoisted the massive Iron Crystal Throne upon its shoulders.

Firmly separating heaven and earth, ensuring the world’s stability, keeping all things unharmed.

A Halo suddenly emerged from the sky above the Iron Crystal Throne. It expanded quickly, enshrouding a third of the Town of Dusk. It covered the heavy rain and night, enveloping all this turbulence under its protection.

"Homunculus?"

On the huge bridge of the airship, Pant Delong looked up, astonished at the faint traces left by the gigantic silhouette.

Unbelievable. How could it have been so fast?

It was the signature strategic-level weapon of the Ivory Tower.

It was a fictitious lifeform born from the alchemical cauldron, based on Artificial Human technology and refined through countless iterations—the Homunculus!

But having grown to such a size, it could no longer be called by the term ’tiny being in a bottle,’ which described its juvenile phase when it couldn’t even leave its container.

It had been given a name, loaded into the Miracle Imprint, and become a living miracle!

Even if it could only exist for a few short weeks, it was still an indestructible weapon of terror...

Anyone who witnessed the power it displayed and its iconic silhouette could guess the origin of the name bestowed upon it.

——The Dome Giant·Atlas!

The great spirit shouldering the earth and sky.

"...You’ve always been like that, Mikhail," Michel lifted his gaze and murmured indifferently, "Always burrowing in your own corner, not playing games with others, always secretive, hiding yourself and your creations where others can’t see them... Looking back now, the signs of your autism were already there, weren’t they?"

He asked softly, "When you have something good, shouldn’t you share the joy with your fellow disciples first?"

No one responded.

Only a sharp sound resonated in the gear room.

It was the control lever Michel grasped so tightly that the steel had bent under his furious grip.

"You... damn thing..."

He had striven with all his might, sparing no cost, to finally gain a step ahead. But when the curtain was drawn, he found he still hadn’t shaken off his detested enemy; they were merely, humiliatingly, evenly matched. No phrase felt more humiliating than ’evenly matched.’ Just as he had experienced so many times before. In every assessment, he had been neck and neck with the best. Yet, the closer it came to the end, the more Michel realized that the perfect scores he had striven so desperately to achieve were, for some, merely the assumed starting point. If only he could have heard mockery, he wouldn’t have minded the laughter and disdain. But from start to finish, all he ever received was this indifferent attitude. Calm and cold. Even when rejected and opposed by everyone, it didn’t seem to matter to him; rather, he appeared to take it as a matter of course. So arrogant as to disregard everyone...

"Deliver our ’present’!"

After a while, Michel ordered emotionlessly, "There’s more joy in sharing happiness... Having received such kindness, a reciprocation is in order."

The scholar nodded and hurriedly left.

It didn’t take long. In the massive laboratory, within the column of light, the cores of the two separated control centers—remnants left by the former King of Casting—trembled thunderously.

Ash-gray flames ignited within the Wind Lamp.

And from the eyes of the solemn, statue-like husk, two silent streams of bloody tears flowed.

In the dark expanse of the Town of Dusk, amidst the splattering blood rain, a crimson gale suddenly whipped up from nowhere. It tore through this confined world, instantly saturating every inch of air.

Wherever it passed, countless raindrops evaporated. Lush green plants instantly withered, desiccated, and corroded by the terrifying heat and virulent toxins in the air, meeting their demise.

Following this, flurries of ash-like snowflakes drifted down, mingling with the torrential rain.

These powdery ashes didn’t dissolve into the bloody water. Instead, they floated lightly through the rain, drifting between heaven and earth. Before long, the entire world was rendered a desolate gray-white.

The Burning Wind and the Tide of Sediment.

This terrifying catastrophe, a horror Huai Shi had previously only witnessed in the Witch’s Dream, now suddenly descended upon this confined slice of Hell.

As a former Giant Beast, he couldn’t have comprehended the Terrible Power of these two phenomena. But now, truly experiencing their presence, a shiver involuntarily ran down his spine.

The Erosion species hidden in various corners had already let out hoarse screams.

Anyone touched by even a wispy strand of the gray sediment would experience spiritual erosion and agony comparable to that inflicted by the Apocalypse. Their lucidity would rapidly deteriorate as the sediment accumulated, until they finally succumbed to madness, hurling themselves into the Burning Wind and torrential rain.

Seeking their own death.

They would age rapidly, yet before succumbing to old age, they would perish in agony from the scorching heat and virulent poison of the Burning Wind. Ultimately, only ghastly remains would be left amidst the blood rain.

The current Town of Dusk had truly become a veritable Hell.

In addition to the spontaneous combustion from the Sun and the dark petrification Curse, there was now the decaying blood rain from the Iron Crystal Throne, and the Burning Wind and Tide of Sediment from the Ivy League...

Five deadly Curses filled every inch of space, nearly turning this place into a deathtrap.

Without protection, anyone exposed would be doomed to a miserable death in an instant.

However, it wasn’t long before Huai Shi saw a thin white mist slowly spreading from the horizon. It drifted gently, like a gossamer veil—faint, elusive, yet tenderly blanketing the land...

Huai Shi’s eyes began to twitch uncontrollably.

A Curse. The sixth one...

A glance at the sporadically glittering glows of Source Substance on the ground revealed what was happening.

It was the ’return gift’ from the Iron Crystal Throne.

Under the corrosive influence of the mist, the Source Substance of those Erosion species began to dissipate, draining away with each passing moment.

If this were to happen to the Soul of a Sublimator, it would be a catastrophe akin to massive hemorrhage; they likely wouldn’t last five minutes before their Soul collapsed, utterly defeated.

Do you have to be so cruel?

Huai Shi was dumbfounded.

He could already foresee the future of the Town of Dusk, covered by countless Curses...