Monsters Are Coming-Chapter 1032 - 280: Monster’s Afterglow, Reasons That Cannot Fail_5

In one corner of the battlefield, the player in Black Armored Snake form forces a bloody path through the insect swarms, even as the scales of his armor sizzle from acid corrosion. Despite half his tail being severed, he twists his remaining body into a spiral, creating a final whirlpool of death amidst the Golden Sand waves.

Even the Rushing Thunder form, known for long-range attacks, abandons survival tactics to charge forward, sacrificing life to help teammates approach the Rule Imprint…

All Monster Stream Players understand this could be the last time Monster Stream is recorded in the Glory Chronicles.

Every claw mark on the battlefield will be an epitaph etched onto the monument of this era, every roar a tragic farewell to this once glorious faction.

While mainstream players easily fought by utilizing Life Soul Characteristics, these players in monster forms channeled the primordial savagery, shedding remnants of their bygone dominance.

In the region channel, roars from Monster Stream Players constantly resounded:

"Even if I'm shattered into bloody pulp today, as long as my mouth can still bite, I'll fight on, Monster Stream's final highlight, I leave no regrets, even if it means failure, I'll go all out."

"If this battle fails, I'll abandon the Monster Stream gameplay and choose the mainstream Star Vein style. But I promise, in this battle I'll give three hundred percent effort, not disgrace my brothers in Monster Stream."

"My Qi-Blood is almost exhausted, I can hold off another round, brothers behind me, tread upon my corpse to advance!"

"For Monster Stream's tomorrow, brothers, keep fighting, we must win!"

...

The passion of Monster Stream Players moved countless others.

The significance of this war, at the moment Monster Stream Players ignited their passion, ceased to be a simple conflict over interests.

All players hoped to prolong Monster Stream's life.

In the eyes of veteran players, though Monster Stream Players bragged often on forums, on the battlefield they were undoubtedly the most reliable comrades.

The sight of groups of Monster Stream Players charging fearlessly left a deep impression.

The fighting spirit of all players was ignited at that moment.

On the other side, the blood within Earth Thought Evil Spirit boiled as well.

Five Evil Eyes hovered, burning behind, with black stream of light like blood flowing into the body.

It gazed at the Player Corps, Insect Race Army, and Giant Beast Legion on the battlefield, rage and war intent blazing fiercely within.

This battle, it sought to prove itself.

Once it was merely an ordinary Evil Spirit Warrior within the Black Tide Army, its main battleground was Small World.

Fortunate to be chosen as an Evil Spirit Warrior in Monster World, for which it expended countless efforts.

Each growth during the Abyssal Trial was accompanied by suffering.

Thought a new beginning awaited in Monster World, yet calamity ensued unexpectedly.

The emergence of the Player Clan, initially seen as the first stop in its lengthy journey to conquest Monster World and a milestone towards peak, only ended in struggling to survive amidst the Player Clan and Insect Race.

As an Evil Spirit Warrior, it longed—like its counterparts—to crush everything with endless Black Tide Flood.

No consideration for battle losses or troop compatibility, quickly growing through the devouring trait of Black Tide.

During this period, it studied tactics, spent countless days analyzing every battle scene, collected cognitive imagery from every Player Clan warrior, all in pursuit of breaking shackles to challenge Strong Clans in broader realms.

But its environment inevitably prevented its aspirations.

Defeated, fled, deceived by the flawless plotting of Player Clan's Mysterious Commander, fell into traps meticulously set up but obliterated by ruthless calculations.

Every failure carved deep bone-revealing scars upon its pride.

Yet it did not despair, learning to progress in despair and transform in crises.

Facing Player Clan and Combat Insect Clan, it endured too much.

This battle was its closest to victory.

The Five Evil Eyes' projections surged within.

No longer the Evil Spirit Warrior who charged brainlessly, nor the defeated one easily plotted against by Mysterious Commander.

After countless encounters, it learned Player Clan's tactics, understood Insect Race's brutality, even integrated essences of both into the Surge of Black Tide.

Each failure chiseled new facets upon its soul, until it honed itself into a venomous blade.

Tactical growth started naively, growing to need both Player Clan's chaos and Insect Race's madness, while retaining the primitive devouring instinct of Black Tide.

Now, it was time to make them pay.

On Tower platform, black mist roiled beneath Earth Thought Evil Spirit's feet into a vortex, reflecting years of humiliation and growth in its eyes.

The fire within rose continuously, commanding Black Tide Army to swiftly gather and disperse, transforming troop types rapidly into precise blades, piercing through the battlefield's weakest nodes.

In this battle, it no longer feared Mysterious Commander's deceitful schemes, nor dreaded Combat Insect Clan's mad advance.

Its desire was never for victory itself, but to prove the proud warrior who climbed from the Abyssal Trial's lowest layer never wavered in heartfelt persistence.

Believing efforts could lead it to Monster World's peak, penning its own Black Tide legend.

It promised Evil Eye to take it glimpsing Monster World's pinnacle.

Thoughts surged, Earth Thought Evil Spirit roared within.

Within the Domain, all Black Tide Demonic Spirits followed, shrieking to declare across the battlefield that the Black Tide Commander reliant on numbers had long transformed into a true war artist.

Earth Thought Evil Spirit's demonic surge, Monster Stream Players' swan song, Insect Race's death wave, Giant Beast Legion's desperate struggle, at this moment met in extreme collision.

Every faction had reasons not to fail, igniting the final madness leading to victory's moment.

The battlefield turned into a life grinder, dyeing the golden sandy sea in blood color.