The Decisive Battle

Dead Frenzy left behind only that spoiler-like prophecy before continuing forward on her own, utterly unconcerned with the questions swirling through Yaxiu's mind. Even now, he had no idea in what form or where she existed. If she was confined to Hell, how did she know what had transpired between him and Sonia in the mortal realm? And if she wasn't usually in Hell, how could she know what was about to unfold down here? Yaxiu could not even tell whether Dead Frenzy was friend or foe. If she was an enemy, why did she care so much about him and Sonia? If she was an ally, she was still a member of the Doomsday Quintet, whose ultimate goal was to seize their bodies and be reborn. Ever since she first appeared before him back in Shattered Lake Prison, this enigmatic woman had remained entirely beyond his grasp. Even Vichy, with all her treachery, or the Divine Lord of Stars, with all her antiquity, had never felt so elusive. She would simply smoke with that nonchalant air of hers, the glowing cherry of her cigarette dancing like a firefly in some distant realm beyond his sight. "Dead Frenzy," Yaxiu asked curiously, "how old are you?" A minute later, buried deep in the snow without the slightest ability to fight back, Yaxiu swore this was the most brutal beating he had ever received across two lifetimes. Just as the burning cigarette tip was about to singe his eyeball, Yaxiu—who had fully intended to die before admitting any fault—finally lowered his proud head. *You're a Sorcery Supreme, for crying out loud. Why do you care about such petty trifles? Isn't that a little childish...?* Of course, Yaxiu dared not utter such thoughts aloud. He followed obediently behind Dead Frenzy, sweeping across the northern expanse where snowbound mountains danced like silver serpents, and casually asked, "Are we heading to a sorcerer camp?" "No," Dead Frenzy said, shaking her head. "There are no longer any sorcerer camps left in Fantasy Hell for you to scavenge. Ever since the demigods of Black Fall Hell fled here a month ago, Fantasy Hell began a total mobilization. Every resource point that could be stripped was stripped, every camp that could be relocated was relocated, and not even the camp wonders were spared. They are consolidating all personnel and materiel to wage a decisive battle against the Forgotten Ones." Yaxiu was astonished. "They... were actually able to unite?" It was not that Yaxiu looked down on Hell's demigods, but personnel management was nothing like casting a miracle. Miracles took effect instantaneously, whereas personnel management required time to forge rival factions into a cohesive whole. Furthermore, in an alliance that involved redistributing vested interests, without absolute consensus and supreme authority, civil war would break out before any coalition could even form. In the mortal realm, one could resort to cunning tricks via the mind faction—indeed, most of the high-ranking leadership across the five nations had a foundation in the mind faction. But using mind-based divine miracles to govern Hell's demigods... If anyone had truly possessed such power, why hadn't they done so long ago? Was it because staying in Hell too long made their chests itch until a conscience sprouted? Having spent so much time in the sorcerer world, a half-baked materialist like Yaxiu had gained a faint realization: the wise could perceive the direction of history, the great could guide its tides, and the righteous could halt its wheels. These three types of people truly existed, alternating and interlocking in their appearances, which was why history resembled sawing wood—sometimes moving forward, sometimes backward, yet generally deepening over time. But if a phenomenon did not show even its earliest ripples, that meant it was nowhere near time for it to emerge. A unified government in Hell was precisely such a phenomenon. For thousands upon tens of thousands of years, countless capable figures had attempted it, and every last one had failed without exception. How could one possibly spring up in a single month? Even the Black Fall Council had merely been an anomalous creation born from Black Fall Hell's unique mechanisms, yet it was already the largest demigod alliance in Hell. Strictly speaking, the political climate of the sorcerer world was rather simplistic. Most of the time, the ruling class did not need to make complex compromises or navigate competing interests. Miracles served not only as the brute force underpinning political power, but also as the guarantee ensuring decrees were carried out smoothly, as seen everywhere from Blood Moon to the Starry Archipelago. To a ruler, the entire nation was transparent: there was no fog of war, nor any bureaucratic friction. As long as a policy was correct, it produced good results. What need was there for profound political art? Perhaps because of this deep-rooted cultural atmosphere, sorcerers only ever accepted the rule of higher-ranking sorcerers, just as angels submitted to God-Leaders. In Hell, everyone was a demigod. If you demanded my obedience, even if I couldn't beat you, couldn't I just run away? It wasn't as though I had to depend on your rice to survive. Sure enough, Dead Frenzy replied, "Relying solely on themselves, they naturally couldn't unite. But guiding them from behind the scenes are four God-Leaders and Sorcery Supremes." "The God-Leaders all maintain subsidiary factions in Hell, concentrated primarily in Fantasy Hell. You can think of Fantasy Hell as the Void Realm's most versatile resource-producing realm, one that not even the Seven Heavens can rival." "Doesn't that mean the God-Leaders indirectly rule Hell?" "You're underestimating Hell's demigods far too much," Dead Frenzy scoffed. "Setting aside the other demigods, even the God-Leaders' chosen proxies in Hell—do you think they are truly loyal to the monarchs of Heaven? Detestable though Vichy may be, she at least possessed one conviction that aligns with universal truths: better to be a wild dog in Hell than a pet dog in Heaven." "Angels must surrender their sorcery temples to the Kingdom of Heaven. While they can reclaim them when dispatched on missions, through that very transfer, they forever lose any chance of transforming their sorcery temples into their own heavenly kingdoms. They are barred from six wings for the rest of their lives. Sorcerers capable of stepping into the divine realm are all unyieldingly proud, each with their sights set on the pinnacle of sorcery. Who among them would willingly surrender their own future?" "The proxies wish to squeeze as many benefits from the God-Leaders as possible, the other demigods covet the yields of the God-Leaders' factions, and the God-Leaders want to maximize their returns... No one rules anyone; all three parties are simply taking what they need. At times, proxies will deliberately let other factions raid their own storehouses, wiping out bad debts in one sweep while turning around to demand greater compensation from the God-Leaders. Such things are a dime a dozen in Hell. If you go back and ask Vichy, she surely pulled plenty of similar stunts in the past." Yaxiu understood now. Cultivating bandits to enhance one's own importance, paired with setting fire to the grain depot to cover the deficit—who would have thought Hell was so remarkably human? "The greatest significance of these proxy factions is that as long as the God-Leaders in Heaven reach a consensus, the proxy forces can rapidly integrate, forming the greatest deluge to sweep across Hell," Dead Frenzy explained. "When I said they consolidated all resources, what do you think happened to the resources that couldn't be carried off and the wonders that couldn't be relocated? Could they be left behind?" "No," Yaxiu said, a realization dawning on him. "They couldn't leave them with any lingering attachments." "More than that, it was the alliance's prime opportunity to establish its authority," Dead Frenzy said. "Every time they notified a camp, they destroyed whatever resources couldn't be taken away, laying waste as they went and sparing not even the resource points in the wilderness. In the end, everyone had no choice but to throw their lots in with them and build the defensive line for the decisive battle. That's why Fantasy Hell is at its emptiest right now. There's nowhere for you to pick up scraps." "Didn't a civil war break out?" Yaxiu asked, somewhat surprised. "Is the alliance so strong that everyone swallowed their fury in silence?" "Relying solely on the proxy forces would indeed have been a stretch, but this time, the Ancient Kings of the Fifth Hell came down as well," Dead Frenzy sneered. "Those bastards, so old their backsides had fused to their chairs, finally couldn't sit still anymore." "Generally, only the oldest demigods reside in the Fifth Hell... a bunch of withered old relics clinging to each other. They possess the most gods, master the most sorcery factions, and construct wonders of the grandest scale, yet they're like penned-in Lalafells, having lost every ounce of courage to take another step forward. Still, with their immense seniority and vast resources, they are hailed as Ancient Kings—you can treat it as an honorary consolation prize," Dead Frenzy remarked. "Yet in circumstances like these, where overwhelming pressure is required, their utility is maximized to the fullest." *It seems those Ancient Kings offended Dead Frenzy in the past...* Yaxiu asked curiously, "Isn't that a tremendous force? Why do you despise them so much?" "Because not just anyone grows more powerful with age," Dead Frenzy said. "Only the most ancient of God-Leaders, like the Divine Lord of Stars, can grow mightier as time marches on, her pride honed sharper by the passage of ages. But the Ancient Kings are merely a cabal of failures who gave up on stepping into Heaven, clinging stubbornly to a shred of past glory, living out their endless days as fossils of Hell." "You might think demigods are immortal, but they aren't. Demigods have lifespans too," she said. "The moment a demigod resigns themselves to fate, they are already dead; what remains is nothing more than day after day of hollow repetition. Perhaps they fool themselves into believing they are accumulating strength and biding their time, but once their sharp edge has been worn away, even if an opportunity presents itself, would they dare reach out their hand?" "When people live too long, they forget what they originally looked like. They merely coast on the inertia of the past, pretending they're still alive. In a sense, an ambitious schemer like Vichy, who never lost her original drive, is an exceptionally rare exception." Yaxiu looked at Dead Frenzy, feeling that she wasn't so much offering a sharp critique of the Ancient Kings as she was venting her own pent-up emotions. "In other words," he said, "not only the Fourth Hell, but even the combat strength of the Fifth Hell has descended to take part in this final battle? This is... the all-out decisive battle of Hell's demigods?" "Yes. If an all-out battle is to be fought, there is no better tactical environment than Fantasy Hell," Dead Frenzy replied. "If we pick up the pace, we might still catch the demigods' final performance. And if we take our time..." She shot Yaxiu a pointed look. "Perhaps you might breathe a sigh of relief?" Yaxiu froze. In absolute silence, he followed behind Dead Frenzy, without another word.