Chapter 127: Urgent Public Spirit and Justice

Everyone knew that another defeat would spell the complete downfall of the age of wizards.

Circe belonged to the ancient witch era, Emery to the era of the Alchemist Emperor, and Armin and Charlotte to the current era. They had gathered perhaps the most astonishing group of unparalleled geniuses from various wizarding worlds across long stretches of history. Each possessed unique talents, capable of leading an era at any given time. Their talents were not much inferior to Medusa's; Circe's even far surpassed hers. Their only disadvantage was the lack of time.

Circe and Emery appeared to be from ancient times, but they had actually been asleep for various reasons until now, only recently resuming their cultivation. Their training period was even shorter than Armin's. If they had another hundred years, they might have fully transitioned from early epic-level wizards into Medusa's domain, reaching the demigod realm, breaking through, and, like Medusa, nearing the "Door of Truth" to witness the true nature of the world.

"They shouldn't die here; they clearly have a better future, and their future achievements wouldn't be inferior to those of the Great Emperor of Death."

"Time… there's simply too little time."

"If only Emperor Medusa hadn't acted impulsively, if she had just bought them a little more time..."

Among the crowd, some whispered bitterly, some prayed devoutly, while others had already broken down, roaring. Before the cataclysmic, dark-red battle raging in the sky, in the face of destruction and death, everyone's true, unseemly fears were laid bare.

"Our Queens!"

Even the ministers of the three great witch kingdoms cried out, sobbing uncontrollably, their voices laced with both excitement and reverence. Circe, the first wizard to establish the Rose Kingdom and one of the three witch progenitors, had astonishingly revived from ancient times, stirring fervent excitement among the dark witches. Emery, on the other hand, was the strongest being in the history of the Orc Kingdom, arrogant yet remarkably strategic. It was unbelievable that after so many years, she was still alive, fighting for the survival of their Orc Kingdom.

Both Circe and Emery were thought dead by the three kingdoms and could have feigned death to escape, yet they chose to join forces now. Regardless of the centuries of accumulated resentment, the various conspiratorial factions, and the secretly brewing schemes among the three kingdoms, ultimately, they were all wizards, all people. In the face of such a catastrophe, they could still unite.

"Gilgamesh once said, 'The hymn of humanity is the hymn of courage.'" A tragic wail erupted from the crowd. For hundreds of long years, people had been consumed by internal strife and self-slaughter, only now recalling this historic quote. Regardless, their lamentations could not alter the course of the battle. The strongest among them were merely legendary wizards, unable to even approach the apocalyptic aftershocks of such a fight.

Charlotte brandished her magic sword, releasing terrifying mental pressure that formed invisible ripples, dancing across the entire arm of the evil god. With a fierce thrust, she cried, "Pandora, now!"

"Life Curse of Death."

Circe smiled sweetly, breathtakingly beautiful, as a terrifying aura emanated from her.

"Sting of Poison Mist." Within the colossal storm, the again youthful and beautiful orcish enchantress plunged fiercely downwards.

"Life Ripples." Armin, clad in an alchemical body, unleashed a horrifying aura.

The terrifying magic of the four, like a torrential downpour, forced the Cthulhu evil god to fully reveal its true form. The Cthulhu evil god also fully entered its battle state. Its dense skin and jet-black hair sprouted numerous grotesque, bulging ghostly faces, wailing and resentful, emanating a terrifying, frenzied aura. Countless translucent, dark tentacles extended, and the sky turned gray, beginning to churn into a massive black vortex, gathering terrifying power before erupting violently.

The four were instantly flung backward, unable to rise again.

"You almost succeeded in your attack! But you are too arrogant. Even a heavily wounded demigod is not something you can handle. This is the final blow." The Cthulhu evil god once again emanated a terrifying aura, brewing world-ending destructive power.

"They're crippled, on the verge of death."

The Cthulhu evil god's gaze swept past the fallen four and landed on the group of witch ministers in the distance. "These individuals, coming here at this moment, silently awaiting the outcome, must be utterly loyal. Once this group is eliminated, no one in this world should oppose us."

Boom!!

A terrifying aura once again began to brew. An oppressive atmosphere, as if capable of annihilating an entire mountain range in an instant, spread outwards.

"We can't escape now." The surrounding witches exchanged glances. They had come here with no intention of leaving, resolved to perish alongside their Queens.

A court historian, tasked with recording history, let out a deeply complicated sigh and silently penned a passage: "This historical record will likely be the last entry for our Kingdom of Babylon."

*The Spear of Flourishing Witchcraft* recorded:

In the 937th year of the Babylonian Kingdom, the Cthulhu evil god revived, Emperor Medusa died, the four epic wizards were defeated, and the world was on the verge of destruction—

A pity, this final recorded scene would likely never be transmitted.

"All of you, die!"

The next moment, a terrifying light burst forth. The Cthulhu evil god instantly erupted with a horrifying aura, four beams of light shooting outwards, capable of destroying an entire mountain range. Yet, that terrifying spell did not target the four fallen figures on the ground, nor the nearby wizards who had come to die. Instead, it attacked itself. The entire evil god seemed to explode.

From the evil god's body, three frantic voices immediately erupted, filled with rage, excitement, and madness.

"Everyone, how did the spell we jointly prepared hit *us*? The spot it just struck... if I hadn't secretly moved my true body, I probably would have been—"

A hoarse voice began to speak slowly. This was an elderly man in his sixties from Soviet Russia, rumored to have participated in the war years ago. Still robust, he even kept a black bear as a pet. He had been invited back into action, and among the players present, he was the oldest.

"What a coincidence! It hit my spot too! Good thing I moved fast, otherwise I might have died. Maybe the Cthulhu evil god lost control! The spell's direction was wrong, which is why it struck us. After all, we aren't whole; we're incomplete and fragmented, so flaws are normal."

It was Bell who spoke. The tall, burly Flesh Butcher couldn't help but groan internally. His voice now sounded meek and simple as he said to the others, "Everyone, this was just an accident. We were all careless. But this hit has made our bodies less robust."

"Huh? Where's Yamada-kun?" another voice chimed in, very introverted. It was an Australian player, very earnest, who stammered anxiously, "Yamada, Yamada! Why aren't you speaking? Did the accidental hit just now happen to strike Yamada's true body, hidden under his armpit?"

"Ah! Yamada didn't dodge it. That momentary misdirected attack... Yamada-kun might have already exited the game," Bell lamented, deeply frustrated.

"Poor Brother Yamada, he's unfortunately passed away. It's all our carelessness. But we still need to thoroughly eliminate the lingering threat." The old man from Soviet Russia said earnestly, "Shall we continue what we were doing?"

"Everyone, relax. This time, let's not hit the wrong spot again." Bell took a deep breath. "We can make a mistake once, but not twice. Yamada already died due to a mistake."

The aura brewed once more, slowly accumulating. The next second, light exploded again, four beams reappearing, still concentrated on a specific part of the body, and the evil god shattered once more.

Bell burst into laughter. "Hitting me again! Good thing I'm fast! You don't need to pretend anymore! We've just defeated them, and the great enemy isn't completely dead yet, but you're already so impatient, using this full-power attack to backstab and eliminate rivals? Who knew we all thought the same way!"

The other two figures instantly fell silent, merely attacking covertly.

"Hahahaha, everyone's putting on an act!" Bell let out a hearty laugh. "But who among us is truly honest? Yamada-kun, you don't have to fake your death; you're definitely still alive! I know you're the most insidious one! It was your idea to team up and kill Long Ji from China!"

Yamada's aura slowly emerged.

"I guess I'm just short-tempered and can't pretend like you sneaky bastards! If you want to fight, do it head-on!" Bell laughed heartily. The four of them fell into a brawl. In an instant, arms began to strike the waist, and a leg twisted into a strange shape, attacking the evil god's head. The evil god instantly lost its balance and collapsed with a crash, its entire body writhing on the ground as if doing yoga, twisting into a knot.

Their collective body was enormous. The four of them had now gathered 120 species, each numbering in the hundreds, effectively forming tens of thousands of biological units. Their true core units were hidden too deeply, requiring subtle sensing and making them incredibly difficult to target.

"The evil god... is fighting itself?"

On the ground, the witch ministers, hiding in the distance, watched the evil god suddenly collapse on itself, unable to help but reveal their horror. "What a tyrannical, irrational creature! So chaotic, it even attacks itself! It's a natural disaster!"

"This is an opportunity."

The surrounding legendary wizards exchanged glances. They couldn't participate in an epic-level battle, but if they could secretly rescue the four heavily wounded epic wizards...

"This is our last hope; the four epic wizards absolutely cannot die!"

The evil god was in an internal conflict, and its terrifying aura made it difficult to approach. However, their own lives were insignificant. If they could stealthily move underneath and rescue the four defeated epic wizards, this world might not be without hope after all.

But at that moment, someone moved even faster than these legendary wizards, as if they had anticipated this very moment.

Thump, thump, thump!

Two figures ran swiftly, kicking up thick clouds of dust, heading towards the four fallen epic wizards. One was a wizard wearing headphones, rushing forward. Beside him was a crudely formed muscular figure—the four players, hastily reassembled.

It's the evil god again!!

What's more, it was two evil gods, working together.

The witches' faces instantly fell into despair.

Hahaha!

From the muscular figure came a wild laugh. "Clear the way! My dear witch sisters, cover me! I am known as Patrick the Altruist, the Chicken of Last Rites who delivers charcoal in the snow! I've come to rescue people amidst the chaos!"