Chapter 510: Throwing Trash from High Altitude
Chapter 510: Throwing Trash from High Altitude
The shockwave came too fast. With no time to dodge, Fang Cheng braced himself.
His steel-like body, a passive ability, required no activation.
He channeled the War God Bloodline and layered it with Vector Control, pushing his triple-layered defenses to the limit.
The shockwave struck, hurling him backward.
It dragged him hundreds of meters before he steadied himself.
Deafening noise roared as the relentless force battered his body, carving hairline cracks into his unyielding skin.
The assault lasted mere seconds. Fang Cheng’s body now resembled cracked porcelain, but the damage vanished in an instant.
This shockwave rivaled Isis’s Idealism in raw power.
It devoured the entire base, obliterating all except Fang Cheng and the Ark before crashing into the mountain.
The peak shuddered violently, fissures spiderwebbing across its surface.
Then came the deafening roar of collapse—the mountain crumbled, raining boulders and millions of tons of soil downward.
The base’s power system failed, plunging the ruins into darkness as the avalanche buried everything.
Tremors rippled outward, startling wildlife for miles.
From above, the once-mighty mountain now lay in ruins—a ring of broken hills encircling dust-choked skies where the evil god’s colossal figure still floated.
Boom!
Fang Cheng erupted from the debris, scattering rocks and dirt.
Moonless night and swirling dust blinded him.
He summoned gales with Interference with Reality, clearing dust within fifty meters—but beyond remained veiled.
Two crimson lights ignited in the murk behind him.
Danger!
Heart Awareness screamed warnings in his skull.
He triggered his defenses and teleported a hundred meters sideways.
The glowing red eyes pursued, locking onto him instantly.
Their gazes met—his mind blanked.
Consciousness returned with the burn of seawater in his nostrils, the crushing weight of depths.
“Wha—?!”
His eyes flew open. He’d been moved—now trapped in the abyssal sea.
Above, fractured moonlight danced on waves. Below stretched endless black void.
Two red lights glowed in the darkness.
The evil god loomed on the ocean floor, hunting.
_Glug. Glug._
Bubbles rushed upward from the ocean floor.
Fang Cheng realized he was sinking into the depths at terrifying speed.
He tried instinctively to fly upward, but discovered all his power had vanished—he’d become an ordinary man.
Illusion? Or had something truly dragged him under?
Instead of panicking, Fang Cheng’s mind grew sharper.
His current ability should let him draw oxygen directly from water. Even without air, he could survive weeks.
Yet suffocation tightened its grip. Oxygen deprivation made his head swim like any mortal’s.
Still he refused to struggle, letting darkness creep closer as he analyzed:
Was this Earth?
Or the evil god’s domain?
The last traces of light above disappeared. Blackness enveloped him, so thick he couldn’t see his own hand.
Fang Cheng’s eyes shut. Darkness swallowed him whole.
Life: -1
Remaining: 309
“Cough! Cough—”
Fang Cheng revived choking.
He raised his head. The collapsed mountain still entombed him.
The briny taste lingered—that drowning hadn’t been illusion. He’d truly lost a life.
Uncertain time had passed. Settling dust revealed two colossal shadows:
The Ark, untouched by the mountain’s collapse, and the floating evil god.
Two crimson eyes glowed through the haze.
“Shit!”
Fang Cheng conjured a steel shield through blood creation, blocking those burning eyes.
Better avoid the octopus head’s gaze until he understood the drowning attack.
Holding up the shield, he soared upward seeking Tsukimi Narumi.
Had that woman fled after ordering him to stall the god?
But there she was—locked in battle with the entity.
This evil god clearly wasn’t physical. Its attacks reeked of soul-rending and mental corruption.
The massive body served only as defenses.
Now countless translucent tentacles erupted from its form, encircling Tsukimi Narumi.
She danced through the air, black flames from her Giant Sword severing the grasping limbs.
Her voice sliced through the chaos as Fang Cheng approached:
“You were supposed to buy time!”
“Do you think buying time is as easy as taking off pants?”
Fang Cheng retorted.
The arsenal he’d created could already topple nations.
Yet it meant nothing against the evil god’s overwhelming size.
Only his blood-generation ability matched such scale, though excessive output weakened its potency.
Tsukimi Narumi showed no sympathy: “Fix this. Keep dawdling and the North American government will notice.”
Whether facing a deity’s arrival or the Ark, their authorities would deploy strategic-level superpowered individuals – equivalents of disaster-level monsters capable of disposing the god.
Mother’s left arm would likely be seized then.
They had to reclaim it before government forces intervened.
“Troublesome woman,” Fang Cheng grumbled. “Fine, I’ll try something.”
Teleportation carried him atop the god’s head in seconds.
Blood around him proliferated, coalescing into an expanding sphere.
Distracted by Tsukimi, the deity initially ignored the insignificant human. Only when the crimson orb swelled alarmingly did it react.
Fang Cheng pushed his blood production to the limit. Endless scarlet tides ballooned toward the god’s proportions.
Abandoning Tsukimi, the deity thrust tentacles into the growing mass, pumping black venom. Fang Cheng felt control over tainted sections slip, but focused on generating clean blood faster than corruption spread.
Within thirty seconds, his creation neared the god’s bulk – a rising blood moon dwarfing half the sky, its underbelly slowly blackening. Lingering dust clouds hid their clash from satellites.
Fang Cheng trembled, energy draining as he maintained the floating leviathan. No strength remained for intricate shaping. Simple scale would suffice.
Metallic transformation rippled through the sphere. Liquid became steel, weight multiplying catastrophically. Released, it fell like a crimson meteor.
Tentacles meant to brace against the plummeting mass snapped like twigs beneath collapsing architecture. The god’s colossal form, designed to withstand artillery, became its prison – too massive to dodge.
Its whale-like shriek accompanied futile shockwaves that merely chipped the sphere’s base. Impact came – a seismic boom shuddering through earth and mountain remnants.
Dust storms erupted anew as island-sized divinity cratered the ground, pinned beneath metallic blood. Most tentacles lay buried, thrashing weakly.
“Could’ve dropped it from space for better effect,” Fang Cheng mused, watching his handiwork. Satellite detection concerns had limited the strike’s altitude. Still, the job was done.