Farming in a Parallel World and Becoming a God
Chapter 205 - 167: Countermeasures_1

Chapter 205: Chapter 167: Countermeasures_1

"If you wish to become a Magician, then choose the second one; if not, the third one is the most suitable for you," Gaven offered his opinion.

"Oh?" The Pikespirit girl suddenly blurted out, "Would a Psychic Sorcerer also choose the second one?"

"Psychic Sorcerer?" Gaven felt his heart skip a beat. Surely this girl in the throes of spring, wouldn’t be influenced by him and seriously consider the path of a Psychic Sorcerer?

Without changing his expression, he calmly replied, "For a Psychic Sorcerer, the third option is still the way to go. Psychic Sorcerers rely on Intelligence to make their living, Charisma isn’t of much use."

"Got it."

The Pikespirit girl emanated an even more dazzling light, her butterfly wings thin as cicada’s wings, grew more colorful and vibrant, and her appearance fine-tuned, her cheeks as round and small as before, her eyes seemed larger, brimming with moisture that involuntarily stirred affection.

Nicole did not suddenly become extremely sexy or enchanting but instead further enhanced her inherent cuteness, pushing her own characteristics to their extremes.

Charisma, after all, is not just one kind.

If the Pikespirit girl truly became as seductive and bewitching as a Naiad, her charm would actually have been greatly reduced.

All those present quickly averted their eyes, none wishing to be accidentally blinded.

...

As the souls of the Foul Giants were gradually vanquished in the Dragon Oak Dream Realm,

A new transformation occurred within the nest of the Foul Giants.

One of the deformed Dark Altars began to crackle and break, the core components forming the altar—bones of a Foul Giant—twisted and shattered segment by segment.

The tendrils of black mist dancing atop the roots completely lost their restraint and burst apart, dissolving into numerous black fog wisps dancing whimsically in the air.

Some were entangled by the black mist tendrils thrashing from the other roots and were pulled over.

Many more let out mournful, desolate howls and launched indiscriminate attacks on the creatures around them.

The deformed creatures ensnared by the black mist writhed frantically, trying to flee, but unable to escape the black fog’s entanglement.

This was not just any black fog; within it were distorted specters. Each wisp of black fog was a bizarre, deformed specter.

These deformed specters harbored hatred and loathing for all living beings, especially those Dark Servants. After all, it was they who had delivered them to the deformed Dark Altar, consigning them to endless despair.

They sought to have these Dark Servants taste the pain and despair they had suffered.

The deformed specters moved in and out of the bodies of the Dark Servants, forcibly dragging their deformed souls from their bodies.

Several especially powerful deformed specters charged toward the nearest Foul Giant with ferocity.

"You think you can withstand us? In life you were but servants, and in death, you remain so," the targeted Foul Giant growled in rage, utterly fearless, its one large and one small sinister eye glaring in tandem.

The malevolent light emanating from the giant sinister eye was as tangible as substance.

The targeted deformed specter was as if kneaded repeatedly by an invisible hand and then viciously crushed.

Together with the black fog, the specter within was turned into nothingness on the spot.

These deformed specters, born of the Foul Giant’s twisting energy, were naturally powerless against them.

The other deformed specters, seemingly reminded of the terror from once dominating their bodies and souls, screeched and scattered in all directions.

A few, shivering and trembling, curled up in the shadows, too terrified to move. Their cowardly and shrinking presence was identical to that of the Dark Servants, clearly intimidated and prepared to submit to the dominion and enslavement of the Foul Giants.

The Foul Giants paid no mind to these deformed specters as they were quietly shifting their stance, trying to distance themselves from Prince Elton as much as possible; in their eyes, he was the most dangerous and terrifying existence at this place and time.

"How is this possible? How could this be?" Foul Giant Prince Elton gazed at the collapsing deformed Dark Altar, murmuring in disbelief, "The Great Shaman himself had foretold that soon, the Giant Dragon Tree will wither, and we would seize the opportunity to corrupt it, turning it into our most powerful war instrument. The Spring Bud Forest would fall, and the Court of Summer would tremble.

When the skies rend and the earth collapses, we shall become the sovereigns of both the land above and the underworld, our borders shall be boundless, our renown unmatched!

The prophecy of the Great Shaman cannot be wrong. Can someone tell me, why has the Corruption Altar collapsed? Why is this foolproof mission nearing failure? Is it the Great Shaman’s prophecy that was incorrect, or are we the executors too incompetent? Ah?"

By the end, Prince Elton’s voice had risen to a hysterical roar; his malevolent eyes bulged, looking all around, as if trying to find answers on the faces of the Foul Giants and their servants or vent his inner rage.

The gaze rested most frequently on the Necromancer Shaman Felisk.

At that moment, Felix was drenched in sweat, looking as though he had just been fished out of an underground river, failing again. The attempt to summon back Celtwen’s soul had failed once more.

How could this be?

They had just sent him there, merely two minutes ago.

Upon discovering the Black Tide of Corruption worsening, he had immediately tried to summon him back to acquire firsthand information.

But Celtwen’s soul had not responded to his summons.

He could feel Celtwen’s soul, yet there was no response.

Could something unexpected have occurred inside?

Felix took a deep breath, trying hard to stabilize his emotions. Thinking about these things was useless, he had to summon Celtwen no matter what.

If he could not summon him, he would likely be sent in by Prince Eric to check the situation himself.

The Necromancer Shaman began to chant meticulously, sensing Celtwen’s soul through the filament connecting his body and soul, to reestablish contact. This time, at any cost, his soul had to be brought back, even if it meant using forceful measures that would permanently damage his soul consciousness.

As long as they could bring back the information they needed, Felix believed that minor injuries and losses would be understood and disregarded by Prince Elton.

Where was the soul?

Where was Celtwen’s soul?

Trembling with fear, the Necromancer Shaman followed the soul thread in his search, only to find emptiness at the other end.

Without a soul, what could he use to pull him back?

Even the Great Shaman himself would be helpless in such a situation, only the Alien Gods could possibly deal with it.

Opening his eyes again, Felix found a Giant Eye incredibly close.

A thick, fishy stench hit him square in the face, like an outhouse left uncleaned for three years, the exact stench that came from Prince Eric’s mouth.

The hot, fishy breath and the rage contained within almost suffocated the Necromancer Shaman.

"Where is Celtwen? Where exactly is Celtwen?" roared Prince Elton in rage, like a thunderclap exploding right by the Necromancer Shaman’s ear, nearly deafening him.

Felix, steeling himself, replied dryly, "Celtwen is already dead!"

"Dead? Of course, I know he’s dead. Your task was to revive him. I wanted him dead before, but now I need him alive for the information he possesses. Without that information, all the altars will collapse, and when that happens, not just him, but all of us present will die, becoming nourishment for the Corruption!"

"Celtwen is completely dead, his soul has perished, and he cannot be revived. There is a force attacking the Corruption Souls, the core pillars of our Corruption. Once these Corruption Souls are purified or destroyed, our Corruption will fail." Although Celtwen was dead, his death was not in vain; at least it gave the Necromancer Shaman Felix enough revelation to pinpoint the root of the problem.

"If there’s an enemy attacking, then find them and destroy them," snarled the Foul Giant Prince, his brutal gaze sweeping around.

Crack! Crack!

The second and the third twisted Dark Altars simultaneously emitted the sound of cracking bones, signaling to Prince Elton that they were on the verge of collapse.

"Get in there, all of you, find the enemy, destroy them! I will revive you, or else you all die, all of you!" The Foul Giant Prince, driven to desperation, stamped his massive battle-axe with a threatening posture, as if ready to chop down anyone who dared retreat.

Escape was obviously not an option for these Foul Giants. Not to mention whether Elton would hunt them down afterward, they would be executed as traitors if they returned to the Black Mirror Kingdom without Prince Elton’s lead, and their fate would be even worse.

They neither dared nor wished to enter the state of Corruption.

Who knew what awaited them inside? Most importantly, Prince Elton’s character was not exactly trustworthy; who knew if he would truly revive them or use them as material for permanent Corruption.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The breaking sounds grew more urgent, like a death knell relentlessly ticking.

A Cyclops, unable to bear the pressure, was the first to approach one of the twisted Dark Altars.

The Foul Giants had a choice, but these servant races had none at all.

When the remaining two twisted Dark Altars broke, it would be the time of their death, and their flesh, bones, and souls would become the materials for a new altar.

Going forth voluntarily, there was at least a slim hope of being revived, certainly better than having no hope at all.

The Cyclops had just approached when the black mist tendrils eagerly swept over, pulling his soul straight into the tide of Corruption.

The effect was immediate; with the support of a powerful soul, the crumbling of the twisted Dark Altar was halted.

With the Cyclops taking the lead, three or four more Cyclopes stepped forward and were engulfed.

"What are you waiting for? Are you waiting for me to take action personally?" The Foul Giant Prince stared coldly at the Foul Giants, radiating intense dissatisfaction.

Just these few Cyclopes, with strength equivalent to only three Foul Giants, were far from enough.

Under the immense pressure from Elton, those Foul Giants had no choice but to enter the tide of Corruption as well.

Together, they might stand a chance no matter what they faced.

With a large number of Foul Giants joining in, the tide of Corruption truly began to rise. The black mist tendrils turned into black mist flames that burnt fiercely, engulfing the remaining two Giant Dragon Tree roots.

As for the broken Corruption altar, it would need to be repaired before it could be used again.

...

"Spawning monsters?" Gaven cried out in shock. Facing the ferocious onslaught of numerous Cyclopes and Foul Giants, he promptly teleported the Dragon Oak Squad back to the safe zone.

Left behind were the Cyclopes and Foul Giants, their furious roars echoing, unable to find even a single enemy, frustration building with no outlet, furiously hammering and smashing at the air around them.

The entire Dragon Oak Dream Realm trembled from their rage, even the Dragon Oak Squad, just back in the safe zone, could feel it clearly.