The nightmare was dissipating.
The Forgotten Abyss, which had been shrouded by Lockmarton's power of Chaos for 10,000 years, gradually broke free from the darkness. The first thing to change was the core of the epic battle, the throne of the Tyrant of Nightmares, Spiral Hill.
The dusk-like light disappeared without anyone noticing, and the twisted remnants of Spiral Hill completely disintegrated. The monsters that emerged from nightmares were like morning dew under the sun. Layers of smoke rose from their bodies and gradually became transparent. Finally, they disappeared one by one. The storm over the plain stopped, and the giant pillars of smoke and dust collapsed as if they had just woken up from a dream. Specks of light rose from the giant pillars of smoke and dust, as if they were souls that had just been liberated, floated up into the sky, and some shimmering mysterious debris fell from the sky, sprinkling on the battlefield and on the bodies of every soldier and general.
Calaxus looked at the scene in a daze and reached out his hand.
A shimmering debris fell on his palm, and he felt a slight warmth coming from it. He seemed to hear someone whispering thank you, but when he tried to listen carefully, he found that it was just an illusion.
All kinds of supernatural forces had dissipated, and a ray of light shone on his face.
The rolling clouds in the sky gradually subsided and dispersed in all directions. The light that had not been seen in this world for many years came down from the sky, dispelling the last of the haze. Beams of light pierced the sky like thousands of torrents splashing down.
"The nightmare is over." A high-ranking paladin took off his blood-stained helmet and put it on his waist. He looked up at the bright sky and said, "This time, it's really over."
The exhausted soldiers could finally rest. After losing the will to forcibly support themselves, they fell to the ground one by one, swaying left and right in a sorry state. Their bodies were covered in blood and mud. They looked at each other, and the strong joy and relief made them want to laugh out loud or shout to vent their emotions. However, they did not even have the strength to shout. They could only look at their comrades beside them and try their best to smile.
Calaxus also wanted to lie down, even for a minute, so that he could rest as much as he wanted. But he summoned his will, struggled to stand, and staggered toward the wardens.
His platinum staff had been completely overloaded and destroyed in the previous battle, so he could only support himself with a crooked wooden stick.
A few blurry figures stood in front of the King of the Mountains.
After their last battle, the Heroic Soul Army and the Ultimate Army had been reduced to less than ten percent. Countless twisted warriors and ancient Heroic Souls had fallen on the way, paving the way for the living. When dawn finally arrived, only a few of these two armies were still standing on the battlefield.
Distorted dark creatures, hollow and transparent soul warriors, empty armor and battle robes gathered in front of the Lord of the Mountains, just like how they were inspected thousands of years ago.
A skinny old man was standing at the front of the group. He looked like an ordinary old man, and he was talking to the Lord of the Mountains.
Calaxus suddenly remembered that the pope did not belong to the world of the living. He was a member of the army of the dead.
The fatherly Auguste VII had died a long time ago.
Geddon, the Lord of the Mountains, bowed down in front of these warriors and carefully listened to the old pope's words. After a long time, he nodded slightly, as if making a promise, and then slowly stood up.
A beam of light shone down from the clouds and shone on the Ultimate Army.
The twisted and mutated limbs melted in the light, and the corroded bodies quickly vaporized. As the black smoke dissipated, these twisted monsters returned to their original appearance — in the form of souls. The knights were clad in shining armor, and the priests were clad in holy white robes. The warrior who held the flag had also recovered and turned back into a field bishop wearing a battle robe. His hair and beard were white, and his cheeks were resolute. The rag that he had tied on his back fluttered in the air and gradually turned into a golden battle flag with the profile of a goddess. Then, it fell back into his hand.
The old pope nodded to the field bishop and glanced back at Calaxus before turning and walking toward the ranks of the dead.
The field bishop raised the golden battle flag in his hand. "Everyone, turn back!"
"Let's go!"
The dead marched forward in unison, facing the light from the clouds. They held their heads high and marched toward the light.
More and more light shone down from the clouds, becoming stronger and stronger. Finally, it gathered into a ubiquitous light that illuminated the entire Old World. Amidst the light, the army's figures gradually thinned out and gradually distanced themselves. Finally, they merged with the light of dawn.
The ten wardens stood solemnly and sent them off with their eyes.
In the rear of the battlefield, the surviving soldiers also struggled to stand up. They supported each other and watched as their ancestors left.
After the silent farewell, Calaxus looked up and saw a simple staff carved from curved thorns slowly falling from the air. He let go of the wooden stick in his hand and reached out to take the thorny staff. He could still feel the residual warmth of the staff.
"According to 'their' last wish, 'they' hope that you can take over the responsibility of the pope." The voice of the Lord of the Mountains came from the sky. "The arrival of dawn does not mean the end of everything, but the beginning. Someone needs to lead the world back on track. Are you willing?"
Calaxus clenched the thorny staff. When the old pope turned and stepped into the ranks of the dead, he looked back at Calaxus. Calaxus knew the responsibility he had to face from that deep gaze.
The arrival of dawn did not mean the end of everything. Even if the threat of Lockmarton was gone forever, and the tide of Chaos no longer threatened the world, Collow was destined to experience a turbulent and difficult time. Because in the real world, the War of Chaos had raged for seven years. The conspiracy of the Cult of Armageddon had caused unimaginable damage to the kingdoms in the last month of the war. It was a world waiting to be rebuilt, and many things needed to be redone. When the tide of Chaos became a memory of the past, a new order must be rebuilt in Collow. This was a new order that people living in this land had never thought of. At this time, someone must stand up and lead everything.
Calaxus took over the heavy responsibility, but he also felt a heavy pressure. The Lord of the Mountains seemed to know what Calaxus was thinking. His voice came from the sky. "The wardens will return to this world."
"We will help, too." Muru's voice came from another direction. He was not a member of the wardens and did not know the power of the Light of Order. So he did not stand with the Lord of the Mountains in the battle but in the Sanctum Legion. "I believe that Hao Ren will have follow-up arrangements."
"Hao Ren." The Lord of the Mountains could not help but look up at the sky. The crack that reflected the outside universe had disappeared. To prevent Lockmarton's power from rushing back into this world, the prison system had been resealed. He did not know what had happened outside. "I wonder if everything is going well on his side."
"I believe in him," Muru said slowly. "He never plans things that he is not sure of. Even if he looks careless, everything he does is far-sighted and has never failed."
Just as Muru's voice trailed off, a beam of light suddenly cut through the sky.
This beam of light was different from ordinary skylight. It not only illuminated the sky but also tore through space. The shielding system of Collow was turned on from the outside. The image of the outside universe flashed briefly in the beam of light, but Lockmarton's aura could not be seen.
Muru looked as if he had expected it. He smiled and pointed to the figure emerging in the beam of light. "Look, he is back."
"Mr. Landlord!"
"Uncle Ren!"
"Big Boss Cat!"
"Ghsss — Biubiu!"
A group of people rushed up to Hao Ren. The first group was naturally the tenants of Hao Ren's house. Hao Ren greeted these familiar faces as he grabbed Noobie and stuffed her into a can. He then nodded to Geddon and Calaxus, the Lord of the Mountains, who came later.
"Lockmarton?" Calaxus asked hurriedly.
"It will not come back." Hao Ren opened his dimensional pocket and showed the last fragment of Lockmarton's soul. "This is its last fragment. Under the witness of another true god, it has been deprived of the possibility of resurrection or return in any form."
Calaxus could not help but close his eyes and draw a circle on his chest with his hand. "Thank the goddess."
Although Lockmarton had been expelled from this world, as long as they were not sure that it was really dead, they could not be 100% assured.
Hao Ren took the opportunity to look around the battlefield.
The heroic souls were gone, and even the base of Spiral Hill had disappeared. The great plain was illuminated by the sun, and the smoke and shadows on the plain quickly faded. A sense of peace and tranquility permeated the battlefield.
Hao Ren sighed softly, lamenting the end of a nightmarish era and the survival of a civilization. He then looked up at the Lord of the Mountains.
"Geddon, with the appeal of the warden, how much influence does he have on the major secular kingdoms?"
"Most people in the secular kingdoms may not necessarily know about the existence of the warden, but the church's appeal should be enough. Although the Theocracy's early withdrawal from the secular kingdoms has affected the prestige of Sanctum, as long as the truth is revealed, I believe everything will be reversed."
"I need your influence." Hao Ren turned to Calaxus and nodded. "I need the world to know about the follow-up arrangements of this world and some things in the outer universe."
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