Volume 4: Super-Tier Awakening & The Ancient Capital Calamity
Chapter 339
Divine Light: The Eighth Awakening Saves a Thousand Soldiers
The pungent stench of fresh blood, foul pus, and the acrid scorch of fire magic blended together, thickening the chilling night air that had descended upon the northern ramparts. A bone-piercing gale swept across the massive quartz blocks, carrying with it fragments of shattered iron armor and the desperate, echoing groans from every corner of the battlefield.
Atop the highest observation platform of the fortress wall, the scene unfolding was one of harrowing tragedy. Hundreds of military mages belonging to the Ironblood Brigade lay scattered across makeshift stretchers or leaned powerlessly against cold stone walls. Their armor was shredded, stained pitch-black with toxic gore. The venom from the corpse generals and Dark Church zealots had not only corroded their flesh but also invaded their spiritual realms, destroying their magical cells thread by thread.
Military physicians and healing mages were drenched in sweat, their hands trembling violently. They continuously administered the highest-grade elixirs and channeled streams of white healing light into the wounded, but all their efforts were in vain. The moment the healing energy touched the wounds, it was swiftly corroded by a freezing dark aura, turning into foul black droplets that pattered down onto the stone surface.
“This is bad! The poison is too potent—it has already breached their core meridians!” A white-haired military doctor, his eyes bloodshot from three days and nights without sleep, burst into bitter tears as he watched a squad leader under his command collapse. He jerked his head up, staring blankly at the commander standing nearby, his voice choked with despair: “Report... we’ve run out of options. This Dark venom carries a slaughter curse that rots the spinal marrow. In another fifteen minutes, every single one of these wounded soldiers will completely degenerate into mindless corpses, manipulated to turn and slaughter their own comrades...”
The doctor’s words felt like a final blade twisting through the hearts of the survivors.
All around, pitch-black veins resembling giant centipedes began crawling outward from open wounds on chests and thighs, writhing upward toward necks, creeping right up to the corners of the young soldiers’ eyes and cheekbones. Their eyes—those of men who just moments before had roared into battle to annihilate the enemy—were now clouding over with the grayish ash of death. Their pupils contracted, their breathing grew intermittent, and their chests heaved feebly like oil lamps flickering in a gale.
A young soldier barely eighteen years old, his face still smeared with the ash of combat, shook uncontrollably from head to toe. The poison had devoured half his face, turning his left cheek into a terrifying, bruised purple. He could feel his consciousness fading, the cold darkness of death swallowing his mind.
With the last shred of indomitable willpower characteristic of a Shenzhou soldier, his right hand trembled as it reached down to the scabbard at his waist, drawing a razor-sharp dagger. He bit his lips until they bled, his clouded eyes staring fixedly at a squad leader not far away, his hoarse, broken voice cutting through the howling wind:
“Don’t... don’t let me become a monster... I beg you... just kill me...”
Hot tears mixed with blood and sweat streamed down the young soldier’s chin, dripping onto the frigid flagstone. He tilted his head back, casting his gaze toward the pitch-black night sky devoid of stars, whispering unconsciously: “I... I want to die like a soldier of Shenzhou... Please, don’t let me bite my brothers’ throats...”
The entire section of the rampart sank into a deathly, suffocating silence. No one dared to step forward; no one dared to speak. In war, dying on the battlefield was an everyday occurrence, but dying only to transform into a corpse that slaughtered one’s comrades was the greatest humiliation and heartbreak a soldier could face.
Yet at that most desperate moment, when the razor-sharp dagger was barely an inch from the young soldier’s throat, a large, warm, and rock-steady hand suddenly descended onto his shoulder.
That hand carried a strange, miraculous power. The mere touch instantly halted the violent convulsions tearing through the young soldier’s body.
The young soldier froze, struggling to turn his head.
Beneath the flickering torchlight atop the rampart, Lin Feng’s resolute, angular face, with eyes as brilliant as stars, came into view. There was no arrogance of a supreme powerhouse standing above all beings, nor any superficial pity; the only thing lingering in Lin Feng’s eyes at this moment was an absolute, unyielding steadfastness—a roaring bonfire of indomitable will.
Lin Feng lowered his gaze to look at the young soldier, the corners of his lips curving upward into a warm smile resembling the first rays of spring sun, his deep, resonant voice cutting clearly through the whistling wind:
“With Lin Feng here, not a single person dies!”
The brief declaration rang out with supreme authority, carrying the weight of Mount Tai to crush the fear and despair suffocating the atmosphere.
Lin Feng strode past the ranks of wounded soldiers, walking with decisive steps straight toward the highest protruding rock shelf overlooking the sea of clouds on the northern wall. He stood proudly between heaven and earth, his robes fluttering violently against the gusts of gale-force wind.
He took a deep, steady breath. The chilly air carrying the breath of war surged into his chest, blending with the torrential primordial elemental energy surging within his blood vessels.
Deep within Lin Feng’s vast, unfathomable spiritual realm, where seven magical systems reigned like seven solemn grand halls, a terrifying upheaval was underway. The previous seven starry seas had already blazed with dazzling brilliance, but in a previously unopened corner, a hazy bank of mist was suddenly ripped apart by a muffled explosion echoing from the endless void!
BOOM——!!
It was the Eighth Star Sea—the Sacred Blessing!
The spatial domain previously plunged in darkness within the eighth system suddenly burst into blinding brilliance, as if tens of thousands of stars had exploded all at once. Forty-nine star particles, carrying the purest golden hue of the Great Dao, automatically linked with one another along mystical trajectories, rapidly crystallizing into a magnificent Star Palace that radiated an oppressive might capable of shaking Lin Feng’s entire spiritual realm.
Without stopping, driven by Lin Feng’s formidable willpower and soul force that had reached the pinnacle realm, hundreds of points of starlight converged from all over his body, coalescing into a miniature, brilliantly blazing sun hovering right in the palm of his right hand!
That golden light was so dazzling that it pierced right through skin and flesh, emitting holy halos from Lin Feng’s body that left everyone standing nearby feeling mentally cleansed, as if minor wounds upon their bodies were being washed away.
Lin Feng lifted his chin, staring straight up at the pitch-black sky where the gloomy clouds of the Dark Church were rolling in. He raised his right hand—clutching the miniature sun—high above his head, roaring like thunder that shook mountains and rivers:
“Eighth System - Sacred Blessing: HOLY LIGHT ILLUMINATION!!”
WHOOSH——!!
A spatial shockwave resounded, resembling a primal bell toll awakening all creation. From Lin Feng’s body, a warm, infinitely pure golden light erupted with the explosive might of a supernova!
The light was not blindingly painful to the eyes; instead, it felt as soft as silk, as warm as a stream of spring water flowing across all things. In the blink of an eye, that holy radiance expanded across a three-mile radius, enveloping the entire northern defense line, bathing every inch of ground and every soldier bowed under injuries.
Miracles began to manifest before the eyes of thousands of dumbfounded, terrified troops.
The pools of foul black blood and the tainted bloody rain left on the ground by dark sorcery evaporated into wispy white smoke upon touching that golden light, vanishing completely into nothingness. The surrounding air grew strangely pristine, as though all the filth of warfare had been washed clean by a divine drizzle.
And even more terrifying was the transformation occurring across the bodies of the hundreds of wounded soldiers lying prone on their stretchers!
The pitch-black venomous veins writhing across necks and faces of the young soldier and his comrades emitted a sizzling sound upon contacting the golden light, just like red-hot iron plunged into cold water. They did not struggle for long before instantly melting into pools of black liquid and evaporating into gray smoke, disappearing without a trace!
“Ah... aaaa...!”
The young soldier let out a startled cry. The flesh-tearing, skin-ripping agony caused by the poison moments before vanished entirely, replaced by a warm, comforting sensation spreading from his chest to his limbs, as if tens of thousands of crystal-clear springs were irrigating parched earth.
The bone-deep ulcers on his body and those of the other soldiers began closing at a speed visible to the naked eye. Tender pink skin grew rapidly, filling the torn flesh. Within less than ten breaths, their skin returned to complete smoothness and health, and the magical cultivation and vital energy within their bodies were honed to become vastly purer and more potent than before!
The clouded, ash-gray eyes of the soldiers suddenly blazed with light once more—clear, sharp, and brimming with vitality!
The young soldier slowly let go of the dagger, allowing it to drop onto the stone. He stared blankly at his own hands, feeling boundless life force surging through his meridians, completely banishing the fatigue and deathly aura that had just surrounded him. He turned his head to look around, seeing all his comrades—who moments before lay waiting for death—now sitting up, every single one staring in wide-eyed horror at their own healed bodies.
Without a word spoken between them, thousands of soldiers along the entire northern rampart simultaneously dropped to their knees.
The clinking of iron armor echoed through the quiet space. Thousands of souls, from raw recruits who had just stepped onto the battlefield to weathered brigade commanders, shed tears, choked with emotion beyond words.
Suddenly, a resonant shout broke the silence:
“A divine miracle! This is the miracle of the God of War!”
“Long live Lord Lin Feng! Long live Shenzhou!”
The cry from a single voice quickly swelled into a massive wave of sound that shook the clouds and heavens. Thousands of soldiers tilted their heads up, roaring Lin Feng’s name with the deepest reverence, adoration, and gratitude from the very depths of their souls. In their hearts now, Lin Feng was no longer merely a powerhouse or a commander, but the living incarnation of a savior deity—the one who had dragged them back from the gates of the dark abyss!
Upon the high rock shelf, Lin Feng recalled the miniature sun into his palm, his complexion turning slightly pale from the massive spiritual expenditure of such a terrifying large-scale technique. He let out a long breath, sweeping his gaze across the sea of kneeling people below, a satisfied smile touching the corners of his lips.
The eighth system—Sacred Blessing—truly did not disappoint. Its purifying and healing capabilities far surpassed any common medicine or healing magic in the world, fully deserving the title of a miraculous savior art!
Yet before the joy could fully settle in Lin Feng’s heart, the acute instincts of a peak Archmage suddenly caught an extremely dangerous anomaly originating from deep underground.
Rumble, rumble, rumble——!
It was not the sound of ordinary magic, but a tremor shaking the deepest geological strata. The entire massive fortress wall suddenly swayed violently as if caught at the epicenter of an intensity-eight earthquake. Blocks of stone weighing tens of thousands of pounds fractured, tumbling down into the abyssal chasm.
The cheers of thousands of soldiers were instantly choked off in their throats. Everyone panicked, clinging to the rampart edge, staring in terror toward the south—the direction from which the enemy main army originated.
From the very depths of the dark southern underground, piercing through thick geological layers, a muffled, resonant, and bone-chilling sound echoed upward:
CLANG—— GONG——!!
It was the toll of a bronze bell. A single bell chime carrying a horrifying might like thunder crashing down upon all creation, causing pitch-black spatial cracks resembling spiderwebs to instantly rip across the night sky overhead!
Lin Feng’s expression shifted drastically, his eyes narrowing as he stared fixedly into the hazy southern mists.
Beneath that bronze bell’s toll, an ancient, evil, and suffocatingly powerful aura was slowly rising from the earth, just like an ancient primordial beast opening its eyes after a slumber of ten thousand years!