National Fate: Eight Yin Generals Guard China from Their Sleeping Coffins

The ninth wave is the final liquidation of the first round.

[Catastrophe-level BOSS: World-destroying Lava Giant.]

[This defense of the city has failed; monsters will no longer descend upon the real world. If the city falls, players from the respective nations will be instantly eliminated.]

On the sky.

Originally, viewers could only see images of their respective countries, but now the screen has been split into thirty-nine segments.

Bald Eagle Country's position.

Jackson collapsed in a pool of blood.

The moment he heard that the monster would not descend upon reality, he let out a long sigh of relief.

The Pentagon and the entire United States will not be destroyed, but he himself has no chance of winning against a monster thousands of meters tall.

He looked up at the sky.

On the thirty-nine split screens, athletes from almost every country were struggling amidst mud and blood.

Viktor from the Russian bear country had lost an arm and was tightly binding his shoulder with a strip of cloth to stop the bleeding.

Archbishop Paul of the Vatican knelt on the ground, vomiting blood, the light of the cross on his chest dimming considerably.

Amir from India was reduced to a torso as he was dragged behind the city wall by his two new teammates.

Jackson suddenly felt a sense of balance.

We're all in the same boat.

When facing a catastrophic boss, everyone will die.

Human genetic mutations are meaningless in the face of this level of destructive power.

He pulled the last dark blue vial from his tactical vest.

This is a potion he redeemed within the national destiny space. After injection, it forcibly depletes his life force in exchange for a ten-minute energy burst.

The needle pierced the carotid artery in the neck.

The blue liquid was pushed into the blood vessels.

Jackson's muscles ruptured inch by inch, and the purplish-black lightning burned away his skin, revealing the pulsating muscle fibers beneath.

The excruciating pain made him roar, but he needed that strength to fight for a chance at survival.

Just when he thought everyone was struggling in pain, his gaze swept over the split screen in the very center of the screen.

The Chinese front.

The yellow sand is clean and dry.

The city wall doesn't even have a single crack.

Eight people surrounded the rusty black wooden coffin.

The one-armed old Taoist priest leaned against the city wall, closing his eyes to rest.

The thin schoolteacher is folding paper boats out of yellow paper.

The blind old man even took out a worn-out erhu and slowly plucked the strings.

The melodious sound of the erhu traveled through the sky and reached everyone's ears.

Jackson's eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat.

Why?

A catastrophic boss, thousands of meters tall, was less than three kilometers away from them; the lava had already scorched the sand in front of them into scorched earth.

Those eight Chinese people were actually playing the erhu?

An uncontrollable jealousy and anger overwhelmed Jackson's reason.

He survived by crawling through mud and water, and even used his teammates as human shields. Why should a Chinese person receive such treatment?

............

Japanese positions.

Yamamoto Itto leaned against the broken city gate, looking at his severed right leg.

The system's recovery beam barely reconnected his meridians, but he couldn't even stand up straight.

He gripped the half-broken katana in both hands, staring intently at the Chinese split screen on the sky.

The young man named Chen Xiao, who had just used eight iron nails to seal off the 150-meter-tall Abyss Tyrant, was now sitting on the ground, holding a handful of sand in his hand.

They didn't even have any weapons in their hands.

They completely ignored the approaching kilometer-long lava behemoth.

"Damn it! What right do they have?!"

Yamamoto slammed his sword and fist into the ground, drawing blood from the back of his hand.

The Bushido spirit of the Yamato people became a joke at this moment.

They exhausted the nation's resources and suffered countless casualties to hold out until the ninth wave, while the Chinese people treated the battlefield of national destiny as a playground.

Not only the players in various locations, but also netizens in the 39 surviving countries around the world are watching the shared map.

The emotions on the internet have completely spiraled out of control.

[This is unfair! Our Michael Jackson is almost dead, and these Chinese people are still playing in the mud!]

[Protest! China is definitely using some kind of system blocking function, why aren't the monsters attacking them?]

Lord Amir has fallen. China must take responsibility; they should cross borders to protect us.

The walls of China are new, but our walls have all collapsed; the national destiny system is biased towards China.

I curse that lava behemoth to crush China's broken coffin with its very first stomp.

Shameless Chinese, hand over your magic! It's a treasure belonging to all humankind.

[Everyone, please remain vigilant. This monster is enormous, a thousand meters tall. We eight seniors are still sitting separately; will we be in danger?]

【….】

Foreigners are extremely jealous of China. Why do they have such people to protect them, while they have nothing?

Just as they were cursing, the monster began to attack.

Bald Eagle Country's position.

As soon as Jackson injected the last dose of dark blue medicine into his carotid artery, his muscles began to tear and rebuild.

The purplish-black lightning burned through his skin, revealing the pulsating muscle fibers beneath.

pain.

The pain was so intense that he almost bit off his tongue.

But he couldn't care less.

Because that thousand-meter-tall lava behemoth was turning its head to look at him.

"Mr. Jackson! It's watching us!"

Father Anthony's hand holding the cross trembled violently, and the golden light flickered like a flashlight running out of power.

"Shut up! Push it all up!"

Jackson grabbed a newcomer by the collar and shoved him three steps forward.

"You! Go to the left and draw its aggro!"

"No...no! I don't want to—"

The newcomer hadn't finished speaking.

The giant opened its mouth.

It's a breath attack!

Jackson's pupils shrank to the size of pinpoints in that instant.

He saw a ball of blazing white light expanding deep within the black stone mouth of the giant.

That light was even more dazzling than the sun.

"Everyone disperse—"

late.

A column of magma over 100 meters in diameter spewed from the giant's mouth.

There are no curves, no parabolas.

straight line.

It crashed straight down on the Bald Eagle's position.

Jackson crossed his arms, and purple-black lightning poured out from his body.

The electric arcs pulsed wildly, coalescing into a lightning shield twenty meters in diameter in front of him.

This was the extreme output he achieved by overdrawing his life force.

The heat wave at the tip of the pillar of fire arrived first.

Jackson's face blistered instantly, and his eyebrows were burned off.

Then, the pillar of fire collided with the lightning shield.

The purple electric arc was vaporized by the high temperature the moment it made contact.

Spiderweb-like cracks appeared on the surface of the shield.

Jackson's arm muscles bulged, with veins popping from his wrists all the way to his shoulders, and subcutaneous blood vessels were all visible.

"Hold on... Hold on!"

He was yelling.

Blood and foam came out of his throat.

The shield couldn't hold.

From contact to collapse, the entire process takes no more than 0.3 seconds.

In the instant the purple lightning shattered, Jackson saw Father Anthony kneeling three meters away, his hands holding the cross high above his head.

The priest is praying.

His lips moved as he recited the final verses.

The lava engulfed them.

There were no screams.

The temperature of the magma is so high that it burns away sound waves in the air.

Jackson's body vaporized in 0.1 seconds.

The bones didn't have time to carbonize; they sublimated directly into white smoke.

The silver cross in Father Anthony's hand melted into a drop of molten iron, which fell onto the scorched earth that had become vitrified.

The four newcomers didn't even have time to react.

Their standing posture was frozen in time—because the ground instantly vitrified, preserving the last outline of their footprints before they disappeared.

Nothing else was left behind.

A mechanical sound rang out.

[All players from the Bald Eagle Nation have been wiped out, and the city has been destroyed.]