Chapter 339: Sanity Evaporates, Star Feather Chronicles, Preparatory Heroic Spirit

Chapter 339: Chapter 339: Sanity Evaporates, Star Feather Chronicles, Preparatory Heroic Spirit

"Holy shit!"

That was the first thought to flash through Lance’s mind the moment he got a clear look at the Faceless Person.

’How could this be happening!’

According to this world’s mystical principles, an event of this magnitude should, at most, involve Divine Power.

How could a god personally project itself down to intervene?

’Running to a Newbie Village to steal gear... for a god, that’s just disgraceful!’

Then again, on second thought.

The entity didn’t even have a face. I guess you can’t be shameless if you don’t have a face to begin with.

And then.

A second thought exploded in Lance’s mind.

It was the iron law that all beings in the Material Realm had to obey.

Mortals can never look directly upon a god!

’Logically, I should be completely unable to see a god’s form in the Material Realm.’

’Unless... this independent space carved out by the Underground City was, on some level, already extremely close to the Star Realm?’

’Allowing me to see a scene from the Star Realm?’

Before he could think any further,

the impact of looking directly at a god struck him.

Lance’s sanity, supported by his Spirit Value of 21—far beyond the limits of an ordinary person—evaporated in that instant.

His vision began to distort.

In his eyes, the figure was no longer just a Faceless Person in a black robe.

Instead, it transformed into some kind of indescribable, abstract concept.

Representing falsehood, disguise, theft, flesh, alteration...

These concepts, which normally existed only in dictionaries and were more abstract than concrete things,

had now become a substantial spiritual pollution—impossible to describe in words, yet unfurling before him with stark reality.

Compared to physical death,

facing a god directly leads to the soul’s annihilation. A mortal wouldn’t even have the chance to enter the Land of Death’s cycle of reincarnation!

Watching the once-again stupefied Lance, the Faceless Person observing this space from beyond the rift reached out its hand.

Using its own authority, it materialized a dark red orb of light from thin air. The orb fell into the rift, where countless threads from the being’s cloak wrapped around it. Finally, it all transformed into a spear that plunged viciously into Lance’s chest!

...

"That young man with the black hair... he just died like that?"

On the open plains, amidst the fleeing crowd from Gray Rock Town, a townsman pushing a wheelbarrow stopped.

He looked up, watching the gradually fading illusion in the sky, and muttered to himself.

Just a moment ago,

on the giant screen in the sky projecting the battle in the Underground City,

everyone had witnessed the young man’s chest being pierced by that terrifying Bronze Spear.

Immediately after, a figure with long, ice-blue hair lunged toward the young man.

The entire image in the sky flickered violently before collapsing and disappearing completely.

In the night sky, only the dark red spatial rifts remained, spreading slowly like ugly scars.

The massive column of people, struggling to retreat toward White River City in the dead of night,

came to a brief, collective halt.

The shock that the previous battle had brought to these ordinary people was simply too great.

From being completely crushed by the Heroic Spirit at the beginning to the young man’s incredible, desperate counterattack to kill the Heroic Spirit.

Just when everyone thought victory had arrived, the Heroic Spirit actually stood up again.

The entire process was a rollercoaster of emotions for them; they even forgot to breathe.

"He really did defeat the Heroic Spirit in the end."

"Yeah, but... in the end, the young man was left behind."

"Such a pity."

"A kid that young. If he had managed to walk out of there alive today, the bigwigs in White River City would have definitely sent a carriage to pick him up personally."

The townspeople’s understanding was too shallow. If Bazzer had been here to witness this, he would probably have considered it a major event worthy of being recorded in the Star Feather Chronicles—a publication with a print run of only 50,000 copies per issue.

And being featured in this publication meant one was qualified for historical inscription, to become a Preparatory Heroic Spirit!

Waves of regretful sighs rippled through the crowd.

Accompanied by the heavy sound of cart wheels grinding over the gravel road, this sentiment spread quickly through the column.

It felt as if everyone had just witnessed the birth of a magnificent epic.

But the one who created the epic had fallen on its final page.

The regret was suffocating.

At the rear of the column,

a group of veterans responsible for the rearguard stopped.

They slowly removed their hats, held them properly against their chests, and bowed their heads, paying their respects to the warrior they had never met.

Seeing this, several nearby patrol members silently followed suit, removing their own hats.

However,

the mournful atmosphere did not last long.

Just then, several sharp, shrill cries suddenly erupted from the darkness on the column’s flank!

The nearby bushes shook violently, and a dozen Goblins with red-glowing eyes suddenly burst out.

They charged at the crowd, drooling, tightly clutching wooden clubs with sharp stones tied to them.

But what truly brought despair was that,

aside from these common, low-level Goblins,

on the silhouette of a nearby hill, aided by the faint moonlight, they saw tall Gnolls wielding rusty cleavers!

There were even Cave Kobolds, who normally only appeared in the depths of the Underground City!

Looking up,

in mid-air, they could clearly hear the dull whir of Sound Wing Beasts beating their hardened, membranous Wings.

Most of these Demons didn’t belong in an outer ecosystem like Copper Creek Forest at all.

This could only mean one terrifying fact.

The Underground City’s first eruption had begun!

The Demons inside were spreading outwards on a massive scale!

And at this very moment,

Gray Rock Town’s only reliable high-level fighter, the old Guild President Necros, was single-handedly holding the entrance to Copper Creek Forest, blocking the Demon Tide from the forest.

He was spread too thin and couldn’t possibly come back to help the column.

As for the people in this column,

they were just a group of ordinary people who lived in the town, making their living by farming, blacksmithing, and trading.

The Demons they usually encountered were, at most, roadside Slimes, lone Goblins, or wild wolves at the edge of the forest and giant rats in the sewers.

At this moment,

when they saw with their own eyes these ferocious Demons that had previously only existed in rumors,

the crowd’s panic erupted completely in an instant.

"Run!"

In the chaos, a cart full of supplies was accidentally knocked over.

Burlap sacks of flour and potatoes tumbled to the ground, the white flour kicking up a cloud of dust in the night wind.

The townspeople, who had been barely maintaining a long column, instantly descended into chaos.

Some young women holding infants screamed, desperately pushing their way deeper into the crowd.

A few bookkeepers from the merchant’s association, accustomed to a life of ease, tripped on tree roots and fell into the mud while fleeing. They didn’t even have the strength to get up and could only crawl backward.

"Don’t panic! Everyone, hold the formation!"

Vice President Homman scrambled onto a tall supply wagon.

He drew the Longsword at his waist and shouted with all his might.

"Patrol team! To the flanks of the column!"

"Guild logistics team, get the elderly and children to the open space in the center of the wagon train! Now!"

Homman gripped his Longsword tightly, the hilt already soaked with the cold sweat from his palms.

A chill ran down his spine as he watched the crimson eyes that kept lighting up in the surrounding darkness.

The number of Demons was just too great.

If it were just some common Goblins and Slimes from the outskirts, the tens of thousands of townspeople might have stood a fighting chance, even if only with hoes and rocks.

But the problem was,

these Demons from the depths of the Underground City possessed a combat strength and ferocity that ordinary civilians simply could not contend with.

At this desperate moment,

suddenly, a powerful, resonant roar came from the rear of the column.

"Retired veterans! All of you, rally on this position!"

This roar, laced with Fighting Spirit, was like a sledgehammer blow, drowning out the screams of most of the civilians.

A one-armed veteran, having lost his left arm, slammed a battered leather Helmet onto his head.

With his remaining right hand, he drew a somewhat rusty Iron Sword and, without the slightest hesitation, strode out of the crowded mob.

Following close behind him,

were dozens of other veterans, each bearing varying degrees of disability.

Without any discussion, they spontaneously stepped forward from all corners of the long column.

Some veterans didn’t even have weapons; they ran to a nearby wagon and forcefully pulled out a thick wooden beam used to secure cargo.

Dozens of disabled veterans, just like that, stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the civilians, trying to form a temporary defensive line against the Demons with their broken bodies.

"Rein..."

In the chaotic crowd, Ella turned her head and looked worriedly at Rein beside her.

Rein was currently leaning on a cane with one hand and clutching his chest with the other.

A familiar, sharp pain was radiating from his heart.

His hand trembled as he reached into his inner pocket and pulled out the life-saving green emergency Potion.

’Good kid. Truly amazing,’

Rein ignored the pain in his heart, marveling silently to himself.

He uncorked the Potion bottle and downed the bitter liquid in one gulp.

’To kill an Upper-Tier Heroic Spirit as a mere mortal.’

’Such an outrageous achievement was comparable, in the entire history of the Iris Kingdom, only to the Founding Monarch who established the dynasty.’

’Clovis Pendragon!’

’He didn’t bring him shame.’

But even though the potent Potion was down,

the knife-twisting agony continued to spread relentlessly through his chest.

He didn’t know if it was an old wound or a broken heart.