Chapter 1359 - 1035: Chaotic Stew in the Pot

Chapter 1359: Chapter 1035: Chaotic Stew in the Pot

Right in this clamorous night, mixed with countless shouts, battle cries, shrill screams, and the neatly synchronized hymns of praise.

At this moment, a new rhythm joined the cacophony.

The sound of the tide surged.

As if a ten-thousand-ton Sea tide swept in head-on, whipping up a hurricane, stunning everyone for an instant. In their startled downward glance, they saw the boiling torrent rise.

In the deep Moat, right now, the waters had begun to violently churn.

As if they were coming to a boil.

No, this was... boiling!

Countless dead fish and aquatic breeds rose with the sharp increase in water temperature, surfacing on the river, the stench of rot mixing into the growing heat-haze and steaming upward.

Like invisible Yin Souls cackling in the dark.

The heat laid on by the Casting Furnace, enough to incinerate steel, was at this moment diffusing through the river. Huai Shi’s right arm metallized in an instant, already glowing red-hot; the horrific temperature even made the war-chariot under his feet begin to smoke black.

In the Ruins, Source Crystals were vanishing at a frantic rate, turning to firewood thrown into the furnace, driving that dreadful temperature ever higher.

Until the churning torrent in the river truly boiled.

In less than a few short minutes, amid shrill screaming, the boiling river began to surge, tumbling over toward the interior of the city.

Like a writhing Giant stretching out both hands, it clambered up the towering city wall—formless, bodiless boiling water rising, bit by bit, inch by inch, closing in on those despairing faces.

Until, beneath the Long Spears of the Supervisors, they were swallowed by the suddenly ascending flood of scalding water!

Wails and screams rose one after another.

Under A-Fang’s decree, the immeasurable boiling river defied gravity, and after it climbed over the city wall, it poured down into the innards of the stronghold.

Nobody knew how much venom and Curse lurked in that pitch-black water—Soul-melting, bone-etching. In the instant of coverage, every living thing dissolved entirely in the hiss and sizzle.

On the Bastions to either side, dozens of ghastly pale beams suddenly fell, trying to freeze the boiling water—but the enraged river, in its roaring tide, rapidly spread, swallowing the Bastions first.

From afar, it looked like the grotesque tableau inside two crystal balls.

The ash-black hue spread fast, eroding the Mystic Ritual, dissolving every Soul within reach into its depths.

In the end, with A-Fang’s constant hauling, that deep valley-turned-Moat was actually emptied out, all of it funneled along the rivers carved in midair, poured straight into the Village.

Rampant and raging.

An invisible Power descended from the Vault of Heaven, stirring the boiling water, making it heave ceaselessly; once it swallowed even the smallest gap, it spun into a terrifying vortex.

Churning, whirling.

Under Disaster’s malicious simmering, the sealed Hundred Eyes Village had already become a single Hotpot, the dark torrent brewing something even stranger and more horrific.

In the dead silence, only the fervent hymns remained.

"What on earth is that..."

Witnessing this bizarre spectacle, the elder instinctively clenched the reins, unable to believe it: "What on earth is that thing?"

"Ah, that."

Huai Shi gripped the glowing-red A-Fang and thought for a moment: "I once met an old man—shady character, but he had a knack for cooking, so I swiped a couple tricks from him."

What kind of answer was that supposed to be!

What does this have to do with cooking!

Is this kind of thing something you can just steal a few tricks of?!

The elder’s mind was a blur of chaos; gazing upon the stronghold shrouded in boiling water, all he felt was a bone-deep chill.

"Stolen tricks are still stolen tricks; the craft’s not quite there yet."

Huai Shi sighed with regret: "At best, all it does is stir up a bit of chaos."

If Guo ShouQue were here, seeing this half-assed pot of boiled cabbage, he’d probably be amused enough to laugh out loud.

How does this even count as refined Chef Demon cuisine?

It’s nothing but a sham, a giant pot of slapdash stew.

At best you rely on sheer quantity to stuff people full—truly reaching the realm of gourmet? That’s still a long way off!

But even just stirring up chaos is enough.

Otherwise, how would those heavyweight figures cowering in the stronghold be willing to take the stage so easily?

Now, as the roar of boiling water rolled out, from within Hundred Eyes Village, an angry screech erupted—its fury even smothering the thunder of tide and torrent.

The shrill resonance echoed beneath the night curtain, sending stabbing pain through eardrums.

Within the city, the surging flood began slowly to halt, as a vast shadow rose, as if about to overflow from this giant pot.

With waves of fetid stench, Dog-headed Men by the score foamed at the mouth and dropped into stupor.

Under the Great Secret’s massive buttress and support, the enormous outline rose into the sky.

It was none other than that Three-eyed Mud Monster who’d once attended the meeting in Death Skull Village.

Now, once its body fully unfurled, the countless sludge-like substances gathered into a single colossal, grotesque head, like a skyscraper, endlessly writhing.

Sticky slurry dripped in ropes.

In the sludge, one horrifying giant eye after another surfaced, coldly fixing on the enemy’s position.

A roar of wrath and hatred.

Countless reeking clumps of sludge fell from its body, rapidly congealing midair into sharp-edged shapes that rained down beyond the city like a storm.

A-Fang turned, heavy steam rapidly condensing into layer upon layer of water-curtains, propping up a barrier. But in the next instant, that viscous Mud giant head howled and dove straight down toward them.