647 The Apotheosis Ceremony (1/2)
Translated by XephiZ
Edited by Aelryinth
”The Dark Abyss is getting closer to the city,” Mo Fan spoke up before Hu Jin could continue.
Mo Fan's words brought a great shock to the crowd, so strong that even their inner organs were almost shattered by the impact!
The Dark Abyss was moving toward the inner city!
Zhu Meng was the first to react. He quickly recalled the last few appearances of the Dark Abyss.
The first time was at the end of the Drifting Sand River, around seven hundred kilometers to the west of the Ancient Capital.
The second time was at Xianchi, where the villages were located!
The third time was to the north of the city, only thirty kilometers away!
This time, it had simply appeared right in the city. Even though the City North was already devoured by the ocean of undead, it had always been moving toward the city!
If the Dark Abyss that could easily kill the Nether Bone Ruler appeared right on top of the inner city filled with millions of people...
Zhu Meng shuddered. His eyes widened, to the extent that they almost exploded. He did not dare to imagine it further!
”The next space shift of the Dark Abyss will be the time of death for all of you! Whether it be the commoners as common as cockroaches or mice in this city, or you Magicians with high positions, you are going to die! You're all going to die!
”HAHAHA, what a festival, it is the greatest time ever for our Vatican, and our Senior Salan is about to become a God during this festival! Everyone will kneel in front of the God of Death, Salan's feet, they will submit to his wisdom and invention!”
Hu Jin's passionate behavior served as a bright contrast to the silence among the Magicians on the clock tower.
It turned out the Dark Abyss had always been the Black Vatican's plan!
No wonder Zhang Xiaohou had bumped into Mu He close to the Dark Abyss, as they were behind it all along… looking at the situation, would anyone still think that Salan and his men were just a motley group of people?
This Salan was really the God of Death, the deity of darkness who lived to create death!
Human lives were not just cheap in his eyes. A city that had existed for thousands of years was simply the venue he had chosen for his festival. The undead surrounding the city were escorts for him as he ascended the stairs. Meanwhile, the lives of the millions of people in the city, and the despair and sacrifice of the Super Magicians, were the bright red carpet that he would be stepping on as he ascended the stairs and apotheosized in the midst of the greatest burial of the century, so the whole world would simply tremble and submit to him!
The festival was simply Salan's Apotheosis Ceremony!
The Dark Abyss was terrifying, yet how scary was it compared to Salan's heart?
Great Deacon Hu Jin was already worshiping to the north. The people were lost with words, seeing how devout he was. However, the one that brought a greater impact to their minds was Salan, whose heart was just as terrifying as the Dark Abyss. He had conducted the festival just to tell the world that Salan, the God of Death, was standing right here in the Ancient Capital!
Han Ji was feeling regret on top of the despair swarming his heart.
If they proceeded with their plan, the millions of people in the city would die, and so would Salan... the man did not even give everyone the chance to be afraid of him. He was worthy of being called the God of Death, without a doubt!
However, what was the point of feeling regretful now?
With the ocean of undead surrounding the inner city, the Dark Abyss would most likely appear right in the center of the inner city after tomorrow's dusk. The little city would be consumed by the furnace of Hell, including the millions of people inside it...
As tears rolled down Han Ji's cheek, he dropped to his knees helplessly. The extremely talented Magician had turned into a decrepit old man at this moment.
”Sa...Salan, just take whatever you want, but... I, Han Ji am begging you... please spare the people in this city!” Han Ji's voice was trembling.
The reputable president of the Clock Tower Magic Association, the formidable Spells he had mastered throughout his life, were merely froth and shadows. All he had left was a pleading voice.