Farming in a Parallel World and Becoming a God
Chapter 256 - 204 Changed Destiny_1

Chapter 256: Chapter 204 Changed Destiny_1

Enhancement Psychic Bullet (Special Ability): This gun can fire psychic bullets. When fired through this weapon, the psychic bullets have their range doubled, the difficulty for enemies to make saving throws slightly increased, and the damage and stun duration also slightly improved.

Ghost Bullet (Special Ability): Automatically replenishes its specialized ammunition daily, totaling five bullets.

Double Tap (Special Ability): When hitting an enemy with a ghost bullet, an additional psychic bullet will automatically attach, hitting automatically without the need for a saving throw.

Even though Gaven had thoroughly prepared himself mentally, he couldn’t help but be profoundly shocked when he saw the actual data.

According to his prediction, just having the ability to fire enhanced psychic bullets made the weapon extremely powerful.

But unexpectedly, it was a case of buy one, get two free, with two additional abilities included.

The first thing Gaven did was to yank open the revolving hand cannon.

Inside were five actual bullets, solid, not phantoms.

Nitro Express bullets.

This type of bullet is known as the big game hunter’s choice, the kind that can take down an elephant in one shot.

One only needs to look at the size to gauge its power, thicker than Gaven’s thumb and longer than his palm.

The power of the Double Tap needs no further explanation.

The target not only has to take a hit from a powerful physical bullet but also from an enhanced psychic bullet.

The mere thought of it is exhilarating.

While Gaven was engrossed in his personal gains, changes were afoot on the battlefield.

Countless green vines formed from light ensnared Prince Elton tightly, dangling him in midair.

No matter how much he struggled, he could not break free from the grasp of the green light.

A thunderous voice rang out in Thornspike’s mind: "Execution Charge."

In the next second, Thornspike entered a state of high-speed charge, his body emitting a green glow, especially at the tip of his spear, where the glow was particularly intense, forming a large, semi-transparent green spearhead.

Then he struck Prince Elton’s chest with an unstoppable force.

Poking tofu with brine, a simple solution to a tough problem.

Even if one were to strike with an oversized battleaxe, the chest that would otherwise have rung out like solid steel was now no different than paper in front of the semi-transparent large green spearhead, immediately puncturing a hole.

Countless streams of green light, using this as a medium, surged into Prince Elton’s body like a tidal wave.

Ahhhh...

Numerous agonizing screams emanated from the depths of Prince Elton’s body.

Those deformed souls melted away as quickly as snow in the spring sun when faced with the green light.

When the screaming stopped, Prince Elton fell into complete silence, and as for his soul, it had long since vanished without a trace.

By the time he took three breaths of the Breath of the Black Mirror, his soul was already gone; what remained was merely a shell, a shell filled with deformed souls.

...

This intense trembling, like a plague, spread without cessation.

It began solely in the Dragon Oak Mother Tree.

Quite swiftly, it engulfed most of Spring Bud Forest both above and below ground.

An army of over a hundred people, slowly traversing the Dark Domain, abruptly halted.

This army, though not large in number, had a level of strength that should not be underestimated.

It included at least ten Foul Giants, twenty Cyclops clad in massive armor, and the remaining seventy or so, though Dark Servants, were not the result of aberrant mutations but were naturally evil Fae Race Bansha Spirits from the Fairy Wilderness.

Like the Cyclops, they were naturally immune to the Foul Giants’ Evil Eye Curse.

But their innately evil nature made them the most loyal Dark Servants of the Foul Giants and an integral part of their army.

The elite status of these forces could be inferred from their equipment alone.

Their armor style was very similar to that of the Yaling, only leaning towards a darker aesthetic.

Legend has it that they are fallen Yaling, but the Yaling deny such legends.

This Foul Giants’ army was the reinforcement Prince Elton had been waiting for.

The scale and elite level of the reinforcements were greater than Prince Elton had anticipated; whether he could have carried them away with him was debatable even if he had managed to wait for them.

But now, he no longer needed to fret over this issue.

Leading them was a Necromancer Shaman not particularly tall but draped in variously sized skeletons. Sensing the abnormal tremors, the shaman waved his hand, and the entire army immediately halted their advance, exuding the discipline of the elite.

The Necromancer Shaman, with a solemn expression, took out a skull and crushed it, releasing a black soul that angrily burst forth and flew at him, howling.

The shaman’s left hand, dark as pitch, snatched out like lightning, grabbing the black soul in his grasp.

Despite being in an incorporeal state, the soul became solid in his hand. No matter how it struggled, it could not break free.

With a rub and a squeeze, the Necromancer Shaman turned the black soul into pure death energy, which he swallowed in one gulp.

The casting methods of the Foul Giants Necromancer Shaman were certainly unique; necromantic spellcasters from other races could neither imitate them nor deigned to do so, as they were considered excessively brutal and evil even by their standards.

The Necromancer Shaman concentrated intently, his face showing a listening expression.

When he opened his eyes again, his grotesquely mismatched eyes flickered with bewilderment.

He could no longer sense the Dark Altar of Spring Bud Forest. All he could feel was a vast, frightening life energy that he found repulsive.

The Dark Altar they were meant to support had been destroyed.

Prince Elton had failed his mission.

The War Giant Tree was on the verge of awakening.

My task had failed.

I had been unable to correct the deviation in the Great Shaman’s prophecy, leading to a new turning point in destiny.

The thoughts echoing in the Necromancer Shaman’s mind at this moment were all about the solemn instructions the Great Shaman had given him personally before his departure.

Having followed the Great Shaman for many years, it was the first time he saw this terrifying presence, who had a reputation for prophetic words in the Black Mirror Kingdom, showing such lack of confidence, such bewilderment.

When all the Dark Altars were destroyed, it would also mark the time when the fate of the Black Mirror Kingdom would enter the mist.

If they continued forward, it would only be a senseless march to death.

The Necromancer Shaman waved his hand heavily, issuing the retreat command.

There was no hesitation, no questioning.

This elite unit of the Foul Giants immediately turned around, preparing to return to the Black Mirror Kingdom to face the unknown destiny together.

...

The tremor was still spreading, extending to the part of the Black Forest that used to belong to the Spring Bud Forest.

Twisted, evil, chilly.

These were the main tones here.

The area was also filled with the characteristic mist of the Fairy Wilderness, only this mist was not white but black.

It dyed everything around the same color, even the sun here was gloomy, dull, and lightless.

All the trees were pitch-black, twisted into horrific shapes with trunks covered in sparse leaves of various sizes and shapes, equally pitch-black.

These trees were not dead; on the contrary, they were filled with a vigorous and eerie life force that even non-Druids could sense.

As the tremor spread to this place, countless crimson eyes lit up in the somber forest, indicating that it was not as empty as it seemed.

The looks in these crimson eyes, also brimming with evil, distortion, and jealousy towards life, were very much like that of the Black Forest.

The abnormal pulsing of this Black Forest lasted for a few beats, and a primordial voice came from deep within the earth.

It was as if a gigantic creature was awakening from its slumber.

If one could look down upon the Black Forest from a sufficient height, they would notice an ancient giant face emerge during these pulsations, seemingly trying to break free from its shackles and crawl out of the forest.

But then, constrained by some Law, it vanished without a trace again, and the abnormal vibration from afar also ceased.

It had been forcibly suppressed.

Those crimson eyes disappeared once more, and the entire Black Forest seemed to regain its tranquility.

But this was merely on the surface.

In the center of the Black Forest stood a mountain resembling the Lustrous Mountain backed by Spring Bud Fortress.

Only here, one would not see the colorful, dreamlike scenes; it was all pitch-black, covered with dense, various-sized holes that at a glance reminded one of the Foul Giants and their large evil eyes.

It was enough to make one’s scalp tingle and feel uneasy all over.

One might even get the illusion that if they stared at it long enough, they would turn into the same thing.

This was the Black Mirror Royal Court.

The administrative center of the Foul Giant Kingdom that ruled all beings above and below the Black Forest.

This mountain had been hollowed out by them, with the Black Mirror Throne situated at the very center of its belly.

Rather than calling it a throne, it was more appropriate to describe it as a supermassive Dark Altar, with a twisted throne placed right in the center.

Sitting on the throne was not the king of the Foul Giants, but the Foul Giant Great Shaman.

This was an extraordinarily large Foul Giant, comparable to a Cloud Giant, only from head to toe, it was withered, its skin like dried out and tightly clinging to his frame, taking on the same iron-grey color as Prince Elton after inhaling three breaths of the Black Mirror, appearing from afar like a Foul Giant skeleton.

One couldn’t help but wonder if he had already transformed himself into a Witch or some kind of Undead Creature.

The rich scent of death emanating from him was indeed very similar to that of the Undead, yet his eyes, still emitting the force of an evil curse, indicated that he was still alive, and thriving.

Once transformed into an Undead Creature, even becoming a Witch, he would lose the corruptive cursing ability he was born with.

The Foul Giant Great Shaman looked at the approaching Foul Giant King and said slowly, "Fate has been twisted, mist shrouds the Black Mirror, war will descend soon, everything will be reforged in blood and fire."

After hearing the new prophecy,

a trace of pleasure emerged on the Foul Giant King’s face as he said, "So, does that mean the situation is relatively favorable to us?"

"What is reforged in blood and fire could be either our Black Mirror or Spring Bud," the Great Shaman directly threw cold water on the Foul Giant King, "Prepare for battle. Contact the Ghost Witches of the marshes, at all costs, we must form an alliance with them."

The mention of the Ghost Witches caused the ugly face of the Foul Giant King to involuntarily twitch, grinding his teeth he said, "Those damned creatures, insatiable in their greed. They not only want to lay their hands on the Black Forest but also on our Holy Master..."

"The situation has changed, so the conditions will change as well," said the Great Shaman expressionlessly, "Just tell them, if the Black Mirror were gone, how long could they last between Spring Bud and Summer Court?"

Upon hearing this, the Foul Giant King went blank, his expression growing even uglier.

Because what the Great Shaman implied was that by their power alone, they were incapable of dealing with the impending crisis and, if not allied with the swamp’s Ghost Witches, they might not escape the crisis of annihilation.

But they had the Holy Master, the Black Mirror.

Were they not afraid to unleash it?

Yet the Great Shaman was the one who communicated with the Black Mirror most often; if he said so, it surely represented the intention of the Holy Master.

This meant that the Holy Master as well felt the crisis.

What thing could make an Ancient being sense crisis, feel fear?

Just the thought of it made the Foul Giant King seized by a great fear, nearly suffocating, as he quickly bowed to the Great Shaman, "I’ll get right on it; I’ll convince those cunning Ghost Witches no matter what."

The Foul Giant Great Shaman didn’t reply but simply closed his eyes again.

As the Foul Giant King left, the place returned to deathly silence once more.