Full-Time Magister: The Strongest Summoned Beast is Actually Myself

Chapter 121, Purple Alert

After the rain stopped, the team set off again, and this time there were no unexpected incidents.

The north gate of the ancient capital.

A large group of people arrived in a grand procession, led by Chen Hao, Mo Fan, and Zhang Xiaohou, followed by hundreds of villagers from Huacun.

The military mages guarding the city were taken aback by the sheer size of the army; where did all these people come from?

After a lengthy explanation, the group successfully entered the city.

Before long, the people of Huacun were led to a separate manor in the western part of the ancient capital for resettlement.

Zhang Xiaohou was taken away by people from the military.

Xie Sang, Fang Gu, and Hong Jun were taken away by the court, and everything that followed had nothing to do with Chen Hao.

At this moment, Chen Hao faced the same choice as before.

The ancient capital is about to be ravaged.

To go, or to stay?
This time is different from the past. The protagonist of the Bloodstained Alert in Bo City is Zhan Kong. Whether Mo Fan or himself is there is irrelevant.

The catastrophe in the ancient capital was different. Although Zhan Kong still played a decisive role, the part in the original work where Mo Fan turned the tide cannot be ignored.

Even without Mo Fan, Zhan Kong might still have been able to ascend the Blood Throne and stop Sha Yuan from making his final leap.

But without Mo Fan, can the ancient capital's security barrier hold? It's likely that the mountain corpses will breach the barrier, and the undead army will pour into the city without hesitation, leading to the destruction of the ancient capital without Sha Yuan even having to lift a finger.

Now, under the influence of this butterfly, Mo Fan's life trajectory has been completely altered.

Without the Demon faction, he would almost certainly die in the Death Gate unless he didn't go down to the Abyss of Fiends, but that's unlikely. In that situation, he would probably choose to fight to the death.

Unless Chen Hao takes them away beforehand...

That would be incredibly inhumane. Mo Fan was the last hope of the ancient capital, and now he's been wiped out...

What if Mo Fan were given a blood-stained prize?
It seems Mo Fan's combat strength is worrisome in his first demonic transformation...

Demons only become powerful after awakening. In the original work, Mo Fan, the demon of Jinlin City, seemed to have a hard time even fighting a giant lizard pseudo-dragon, let alone a monarch.

However, after awakening the Demon type in the ancient capital, it was able to directly confront the Mountain Corpse, a leap comparable to that between a level 6 and a level 18 Iron Man.

It should be noted that the difference in cultivation level between the two instances was not significant; the high-level fire element cultivator had just broken through in the Abyss of Fiends.

This makes one wonder if the incompleteness of the Bloodline led to its lackluster performance in its initial demonization.

The thought of all the possible consequences gave Chen Hao a real headache.

But soon, he no longer needed to think about it.

--boom! !
A thunderous roar resounded from the depths of the earth, causing the entire ancient capital to tremble slightly. Immediately afterward, a beam of purple light rose from the clock tower in the city center, instantly piercing through the dark, cloud-covered sky, staining the heavens blood-red, and magical alarms blared throughout every corner of the city.

"Purple alert! It's a purple alert!!"

"what happened?"

"Why is the Undead Lord attacking the city?" Countless hurried footsteps and communication sounds intertwined, echoing over the ancient capital like the horns of impending doom.

Chen Hao was preparing to rest in his hotel room when he saw this and immediately ran up to the rooftop of the high-rise building.

In the distance, below the horizon, countless twisted, distorted, and violent tides of undead surged forth from the land that should have been deathly still.

The first creature to break through the night was a skeletal dragon-like creature, hundreds of meters long, dragging rusty iron chains. As its bony wings spread, hundreds of skeleton soldiers tumbled off its back, running across the wasteland like a tide.

Behind it, a silhouette resembling a mountain peak slowly rose up—the Corpse of the Mountain Peak.

This is a true symbol of calamity, hundreds of meters tall, and the oppressive feeling of despair can be felt even across the horizon, as if the ruler of an ancient undead dynasty has been resurrected and returned.

"How is this possible?" Chen Hao's eyelids twitched wildly, completely incredulous.

It wasn't even dawn yet, and the Ghostly Tyrant hadn't even appeared. Chen Hao wasn't even sure how many days ahead of schedule he had brought the people of Hua Village to the ancient capital, so how could the Eight Directions Deadly Lord have already launched an attack on the city?

He subconsciously focused his mental energy on the rain.

As expected, it was yellow rain mixed with the power of the raging spring!
Where exactly did things go wrong?

Could it be the butterfly effect caused by my exposing the truth about Huacun?
Hong Jun is just a minor, insignificant figure; there's no need to be so sensitive about him.

What he didn't know was that what truly triggered Salang's sensitive nerves was the spring water from the Kun Well in Huacun.

The day after they moved, the other six dilapidated dwellings were all destroyed, and all the Kunjing springs were looted. Due to the butterfly effect brought about by Chen Hao, the news had not even reached the ancient capital yet.

The Kun Well Spring has the ability to purify the raging spring, and it is also the only flaw in Salang's God-Consecration Ceremony. Fearing that things might change if she delayed, she decisively ordered Wu Ku to bring rain.

Instead, the rain falls in the dark, making it impossible to discern the color of the rain. While this somewhat wastes the effect of eliminating the daytime appearance of the undead, the undead are inherently stronger at night.

Salang didn't believe that the ancient capital alone could withstand the attack of the eight fallen kings for one night, not to mention that she still had a reserve of the Frenzy Spring, which wouldn't run out even by dawn.

Just then, the Lord of the Skeletons let out a death knell-like howl. The skeletal dragon's mouth contained highly compressed dark death energy, causing the space to hum, and it unleashed a breath of death.

The thick, dark rainbow light poured down on the northern outer city wall like divine punishment.

On the city wall, the military mages stationed there were completely blank in their minds. Faced with such monarch-level sorcery, any resistance they could muster was futile.

The magnificent outer city was as fragile as paper before the deathly dragon's breath. The dark rainbow light pierced through the entire city, extending all the way to the building area behind the city walls, stretching for several kilometers with devastating force.

That wasn't all. As the Lord of the Skeletons moved his head, the Death Dragon Breath, like a divine paintbrush, erased everything in its path. The solid rock of the outer city wall couldn't even last a second before being swallowed by darkness.

Chen Hao's pupils shrank to a point, as the direction of the deathly dragon's breath swept across was precisely the hotel where he was.

Without even a second's hesitation, he decisively started running in the opposite direction. Although he was already close to the very end, under this level of sorcery, he was nothing more than a large ant, and his fate would not be much better than on the city wall.

He instantly possessed Little Flame Princess and Spider Spirit, unleashing his fighting spirit to the point of no return, and then fled for his life.

Fortunately, the buildings and shelters did serve some purpose. The Lord of the Underworld seemed to have some kind of obsessive-compulsive disorder, insisting on destroying all the buildings in front of him. This made his head move more slowly, and his dragon breath moved slowly like the second hand of a clock, rather than instantly passing through Chen Hao like a cutting machine.

After an unknown amount of time, the shrill sound of space being torn apart gradually faded away. Chen Hao looked back and saw that the entire North District looked as if it had been harvested by the scythe of death. Large areas of the city had collapsed, crumbled, and burned to the ground, and the once majestic buildings were now just charred remnants.

(End of this chapter)