My Pet Beast is really not an Evil God-Chapter 1753 - 505: The Elephant Master of the Universe! The Lord of Blind Folly! Evil Spirits See Me as They See a Lofty Mountain!
Chapter 1753: Chapter 505: The Elephant Master of the Universe! The Lord of Blind Folly! Evil Spirits See Me as They See a Lofty Mountain!
Main World.
Under the witness of the Kings, the disciple’s century-long funeral has concluded.
Instantly, it ignited the entire Main World, becoming the hottest topic among the two major camps: the Human Clan and the multiracial camps.
The disciple not only single-handedly suppressed the Old Gods and defeated the Ecological Lord Level Chaotic Spirit God Fiend, but also pierced through his own body with a sealing artifact, summoning the River of History to escort him.
Even just hearing the description sends chills down one’s spine.
People naturally don’t think the disciple merely becomes stronger when facing stronger foes and weaker against weaker ones,
but suddenly came to a realization...
So this person has been acting all along!?
In the Kingdom of the Sky Tree, he crushed the Chaotic Spirit God Fiend with overwhelming strength. Even a True King couldn’t take it down, yet in Abyss City, he pretended to be instantly killed by the Eternal Sun Level Lady of Eternal Darkness—his performance truly was Oscar-worthy!
No wonder so many have studied his past only to find that the disciple seldom acts directly—always leveraging various factors—and his strength was frequently questioned, with accusations that he relied on borrowed power.
It turns out he refrained from acting too often because any direct action might instantly kill his opponents, leaving no one to star in his grand plays.
What a wicked sense of humor!
Many powerful figures from the Alliance who had once intended to hunt the disciple but failed to encounter him now broke out in cold sweats, thankful they had not truly crossed paths.
If they had dared to speak impudently, there was a high probability they’d have been slapped to death on the spot.
Meanwhile, numerous followers from the Cult of Evil God, who idolized him, also felt like clowns.
They once believed him to be a cunning, near-omniscient mastermind who delighted in walking the tightrope of life and death, growing stronger with each step.
But instead, he turned out to be an ancient existence traveling incognito, playing a game of life.
Many sighed in amazement, but even more admired his nonchalant elegance. A surge of new worshippers emerged, dubbing him the "Master of the Gates," "Holy Disciple," "Prince of Pleasure," and "Lord of Aging," spawning several related sects.
As of now, however, none of these sacrificial rituals have received a response, and several human-sacrificing cults have even been extinguished by the Alliance.
If the disciple’s self-burial was a grand drama staged for all, then its conclusion is a return to the mundane.
After all, being buried by history means one cannot simply reappear.
He cannot come and go as he pleases—
what of the pride of the River of History?
Most likely, the disciple will next appear in a future era.
In contrast, the fall of the Kingdom of the Sky Tree affects the entire Main World.
This city, once lauded as the "City of Bliss," the "City of Art," and "Heaven on Earth," has been shattered, its millions of pureblood elves severely wounded.
Although the True King of the pureblood elf race still lives, the revelation that the elven twin kings are actually just a single True King made waves across the world.
This both shocked people with the Sky Tree King’s deep devotion and sent waves of joy through the multiracial camps.
Unless one is at the High Rank of the True King level, the deterrence of a Mid-Rank True King is far less than that of two Initial-Rank True Kings.
This indicates...
The balance tilted by the King of Order back toward the Human Clan has once again shifted in favor of the multiracial camps, with the Human Clan losing its edge.
Especially since the millions of wounded elves in the Kingdom of the Sky Tree need to heal and rebuild their homeland. Though no one would dare provoke them, it will require significant time and resources.
This creates a critical problem: the extensive battlefronts opened during the Human Clan’s Great Expedition now bear a massive gap.
The absence of a True King and the support of millions of elves—
This is deadly for the multitiered engagements of the Alliance. Several allied races will now find themselves at heightened risk.
The multiracial camps, unsurprisingly, seized the opportunity. Armies from thirty kingdoms launched a counterattack, seeking to tear through the frontlines and crush the Human Clan.
Although the Alliance responded swiftly, when good news is scarce, bad news is sure to follow in spades.
Several kingdoms established by True Kings of ancient races, which had previously adopted a wait-and-see approach—letting the others exhaust the Human Clan’s forces—
Began to stir as numerous ancient powers awakened from slumber, their long defeat in the previous era prompting them to hibernate, conserving their lifespans by reducing metabolic consumption.
The prodigies of the ancient races entered the battlefield, dramatically increasing the pressure on the human side.
The kings of these ancient races, upon ascending to kingship, possessed far deeper foundations than ordinary royal clans.
Especially since many contemporary royal clans had, in ages past, been their vassals.
Though such history has been consigned to the annals of time and rarely mentioned anymore, it indirectly demonstrates how fearsome these ancient races truly are.
Gary Smith had been lost in the past for only a few days, yet in the present world, half a month had already passed.
The entire borderland had turned into a meat grinder. Vast numbers of spies planted by the multiracial camps within the Human Clan activated, and the Cult of Evil God, once backed by various factions, launched chaos. Assassinations targeting Human Clan geniuses multiplied rapidly.
The unrest within human hearts, the rampant plots, the spreading slaughter—as countless strong warriors emerged and fell—the spiritual power of this chaotic era climbed steadily.
On this ascendant ladder of chaos,
If one doesn’t die, one must climb higher.
"It is the best of times, it is the worst of times!"
At the border battlefield in the Stone Ghost Mountains, a buzz-cut soldier clad in a tattered military uniform of the Alliance, leaning against his pet beast, the Nether Blood Dragon, gasped as he spoke.
The dark green of his military attire was almost unrecognizable, stained with the blood of friends and foes alike. Only the nameplate on his chest offered any semblance of clarity, with the characters "Micah Brooks" slightly visible alongside intricately engraved words indicating his rank as a Radiant Moon Tier Commander of the Shadow Dragon Legion.
But at this moment, the spirit energy reserves in his Beast Master Space were nearly depleted. His throat felt as if it had been slashed with blades. He opened several military-grade supply serums, feeding them first to his pet beast before gulping some himself, finally able to catch his breath and speak.
BOOM BOOM BOOM!
Even further ahead on the battlefield, the slaughter raged on. Forests were razed to the ground, mountain peaks shattered—
various devastating skills unleashed in relentless bombardment, as if there were no limit.
