Chapter 1221 - 525: The Girl Born at Dawn

Above the Border Plateau, the entire world was dyed in red and black.

As if the curtain had fallen on the stage named world, those colors no longer confined to the volcanic zone but spread across every inch of the Plateau like ink dropped into clear water, invading from the horizon to the sky, even the Border City in the afternoon had been completely swallowed by this darkness.

Those who made a living on the border, even if they hadn't received a higher education, few could not see the life-and-death situation clearly.

In the face of the disaster that engulfed the world, control had long lost its meaning. Residents pushed open the tightly shut doors and windows, stepped out of their homes, and looked up at the increasingly dark sky.

Even the street lamps that lit up couldn't brighten their expressions, no one spoke, only silence and unease spread.

Against this backdrop of despair, cultists wielded whips, laughing hysterically deep within dark alleys; adventurers gripped their weapons tightly and looked up, their eyes carrying a sense of helplessness and confusion; soldiers silently bowed their heads, began counting their weapons and armor, gearing up for battle.

And in the City Lord Mansion, which symbolized the peace and indomitability of the Border City, and built with utmost luxury, the Border Count had already changed into military attire, a sword at his waist.

He stood at the window, took one last look at the sky devoured by red and black outside, then quickly drew the curtains and turned around.

Under the anxious gazes of many, his face showed no disappointment or fear, only cold determination.

He strode out, sat at the wide desk, took one document after another delivered like snowflakes, and began signing orders, initiating a full mobilization across the border.

At this moment in the Highland Volcano area, a scarred hand suddenly thrust out of the rubble.

A girl, covered in dust and dirt, crawled out, her black hair singed a little, her body covered in scrapes.

Yet even the magic power to heal these minor wounds was scarce, she wiped away the blood mixed with ash from her lips, then turned her head to look beside her.

The gigantic body of the White Snake lay sprawled on the scorched earth, completely charred, scales falling off in large patches, exposing the flesh beneath, yet even the blood had been evaporated by the high temperature, no longer flowing. Only the faint, almost imperceptible rise and fall proved it was still alive.

Looking at her friend on the verge of death, the Hero suppressed the sorrow in her heart, gently touched the remaining, no longer pure white scales.

"...Sister White Snake, you did your best."

Although the battle wasn't over, the outcome was already obvious.

The chainmail on her body had long been melted, the finger claw on her fist dimmed to nothing.

Even that seemingly endless magic power capable of casting forbidden curses was now depleted.

The soul of the Ancient Hero flickered like a candle in the wind within her, and even the lingering spirit of the Sergeant, who could briefly transcend death, was obliterated by the previous overwhelming bombardment.

Alone, the Hero raised her head, gazing at the enemy who no longer regarded her, pressing her lips tight.

Though knowing this was just a reenactment, she couldn't help but be shaken by the sight before her.

It was a colossal black Firebird.

Molten lava formed its body, with red cracks flowing on the surface like a living volcano; black flames became its wings, just by spreading them the sky distorted and wavered; the drooping tail feathers were the ashes covering the earth, eroding all struggling life.

But in its heart, there was a streak of blazing white that didn't fit.

Even if the sunlight disappeared from the sky, night was like day; and even in the daytime, all things were shrouded in pitch black.

This was the Corrupted Sun.

The Corrupted Phoenix, previously driven to desperate straits by her, had not only received a massive supplement of magic power from the volcanic eruption caused by the Bomber's dying struggle, but also reacquired the undying authority.

The previous shroud of night was a magic cast by the Sergeant using the Nocturnal Gem as a scroll, and though the newly freed Corrupted Phoenix didn't have the ability to break such a blockade, under the natural wrath triggered by the ritual's detonation, the night created by a mere gemstone was like a thin veil easily torn.

And this volcano, originally the place sealing the Corrupted Phoenix, with the Ancient Hero's lingering spirit guarding it, even after endless years of suppression, had not been eroded by it.

But now, with the seal completely destroyed and both entities freed, the volcano once again erupting, that destructive power instead turned into fuel for the Corrupted Phoenix.

Similarly possessing nearly infinite magic power, the Corrupted Phoenix gradually reclaimed its past strength, while the Hero, though able to persist, found it hard for the Ancient Hero, White Snake, or the Sergeant to endure such depletion for long.

And the death of numerous beings on the plateau constantly shook her resolve. With this ebb and flow, her fall from initial imminent victory to current dire defeat was inevitable.

The black magic flame began to burn everything in sight.

No more laughter, no more crying, only the sound of beauty being incinerated filled her ears.

Soon, this black flame would spread across the entire Kingdom, and even the entire continent.

In the Dream of Dusk, the Hero had also heard of the irreparable damage caused to the border by the freed Corrupted Phoenix.

But even if she could imagine what such a scene looked like, there was still a vast chasm between simply hearing of it and experiencing it firsthand.