Chapter 599

【 YOU ARE ACTUALLY A CHOSEN ONE? 】

—

Demonic howls echoed through the depths of the cavern, mingling along with the roars of the dwarven warriors and the clash of steel.

It had been two days since Tonglu returned to the Dwarven Kingdom.

In the sealed lands beneath the southern mountains, the battle between the dwarves and demons had erupted once more.

Barolte’s seal had weakened yet again. With the corruption of the Abyss further spreading, a tide of demons surged through its growing cracks, clawing and scrambling toward the surface. They poured forth in a frenzy, only to be met head‑on by the dwarven warriors who had long since taken their battle stations

Such waves of demonic assaults were nothing new to the dwarves for they had weathered more than they could count at this point.

Although they managed to repel the demons each time, the cost was always heavy. The cracks in the seal widened, and the reach of the corruption of the Abyss spread further with each battle.

It could hardly be called victory. It was more akin to a slow, inevitable demise, as though the land itself was being devoured piece by piece.

Yet today’s battle was different.

Although this tide of demons was stronger than anything before, the dwarven warriors fought with unusually high morale, displaying a fervor far greater than usual.

At the forefront was the most remarkable dwarven figure, the legendary warrior known as the Sky Knight, Tonglu.

Behind him followed an elderly dwarf with a weathered face. He wore ornate priestly robes and a tall, imposing miter.

The old dwarf carried in both hands a beautiful statue of the Goddess, radiant with holy light. His face was solemn and dignified.

All the dwarves recognized him at a glance.

He was none other than the current High High Pontiff of the National Church of the Dwarven Kingdom, His Eminence Greycloth.

Following in their wake was a group of heavily armored dwarven guards, each an expert at the upper Silver‑rank.

They were the most elite fighting force in their kingdom, the Royal Dwarven Guard Corps.

Together they all charged deeper into the sealed lands, escorting the High High Pontiff toward its depths.

By now they had entered the lower levels of the old mines, which were essentially a region of the underground.

The surrounding land was tainted by the power of the Abyss, and the number of demons swelled with every step forward.

Tonglu felled a lunging imp with a swing of his silver‑gleaming battle‑axe. He glanced down at the weapon in his hands.

It was called the Axe of Purification, said to have been gifted to the dwarves by a legendary elven smith from the Silver Era.

Now it had found its way into Tonglu’s keeping.

Although it was neither a divine artifact nor his usual weapon, it possessed a strange power as it could purify any foe it slew and could sense the degree of Abyssal corruption in the surrounding environment.

In fact, the stronger the corruption, the brighter the axe shone, warning its wielder of the potential danger.

It was thanks to this axe that Tonglu had endured so long in battles against the demons.

But today, he had not brought the Axe of Purification solely to kill these demons.

Noticing the weapon’s dazzling glow, Tonglu’s expression grew grim.

“Your Holiness,” he said, glancing back at the High High Pontiff, “this is as far as we can go. Any further, and even we will not be able to withstand the corruption of the Abyss.”

The High High Pontiff nodded slightly, scanning the area.

“Then here it shall be. The elves said that the closer we are to the source of the Abyss’ corruption, the better the summoning will be. Let us hope all goes well.”

Carefully, he lowered the statue from his arms, setting it upon the rough stone ground as though placing a sacred treasure upon an altar.

The dwarven formation came to a halt, shields locking in unison. Yet their pause was met with an immediate response. From the shifting shadows ahead, demons surged forth in a frenzy, their claws scraping stone and their twisted forms howling with malice. They crashed into the dwarves’ defensive line like a living wave, forcing the warriors back a step with the sheer weight of their assault.

“Hmph!”

Tonglu gave a sharp snort, tightening his grip on his axe. With a swift motion, he stepped into the front line and swung in a wide arc, cleaving through the nearest attackers. Each strike bought the High High Pontiff some precious seconds.

Alas, they had advanced so deep to the sealed lands that their surroundings had essentially become an ocean of demons. Even with Tonglu’s legendary-rank strength, the other dwarves were falling one by one and their formation were slowly began to falter.

Nonetheless, the High High Pontiff paid no heed to the chaos around him.

With deliberate care, he reached into his robes and drew forth a golden ring.

It was no ordinary adornment. This was a legendary spatial ring, which was the result of a rare collaboration between a dwarven master smith and a legendary human mage. Its inner capacity was vast, nearly one thousand cubic meters, a feat that even the most accomplished artisans of either race could seldom achieve.

Artifacts of this caliber were beyond rare. Its worth surpassed that of most legendary‑grade lesser divine weapons, placing it nearly on par with a divine artifact.

Within its boundless interior lay the accumulated magical wealth of the Dwarven Kingdom: crates of high‑grade magic stones, pure elemental ores, cores from slain monsters, and countless other rare materials.

These treasures represented not just wealth but the very lifeblood of the Dwarven kingdom, gathered over centuries by both the royal treasury and the National Church. Even though the long war against Barolte had drained much of their reserves, the abundance was still staggering.

So great was the collection that even with the ring’s near‑limitless capacity, it was filled almost to its brim.

If converted to gold coins, the value would exceed hundreds of millions, and many of the items were priceless beyond measure.

And yet, compared to the importance of winning this battle, their value meant nothing.

Magical materials could be gathered again, and these were not even the entirety of the Dwarven kingdom’s reserves. But if they lost this battle… the dwarves would lose everything.

The High Pontiff placed the spatial ring before the sacred statue of the Elven Goddess, its golden surface glinting faintly in the dim light. Then, drawing a steady breath, he pressed his palms together and bowed his head.

His voice, solemn and unwavering, carried across the embattled cavern.

“Great Goddess of Life, Mother of Nature, Protector and Sovereign of the Elves, Her Grace Evé…

I, Greycloth, 173rd High Pontiff of the Dwarven National Church, speak here on behalf of the dwarven people to request Your Chosen Legion’s summoning…”

Chanting with measured cadence, he began to recite the incantation, every syllable resonating with divine power.

Before him, the spatial ring slowly lifted from the ground, as if cradled by unseen hands.

At the same time, a soft, emerald‑tinged light began to bloom upon the statue of the Elven Goddess.

༺⟐༻

In the cental zone of the Elven Forest, within the divine kingdom of the World Tree.

Half‑reclined on a chair conjured entirely from divine power, Evé, the current Goddess of Life, rested in serene ease. Much like Thranduil in Sandstorm City, she lounged with her legs gracefully crossed, allowing the ever‑attentive elemental faeries to tend to her needs.

Yet, in the midst of that serene moment, she suddenly felt a a faint but undeniable pull stirring within her heart.

Her gaze shifted toward a far‑off place, piercing time and space as if drawn to a particular location.

“Has it begun?”

Her voice was soft.

Evé straightened slightly, the calm in her bearing shifting into quiet attentiveness. With a graceful motion, she lifted her hand and gave a slow, deliberate wave. Threads of divine light coiled in the air, weaving together until, at last, an image began to take shape.

Suspended before her, shimmering like a mirage, was the figure of an elderly dwarf deep in solemn prayer. Around him raged a brutal battle, with demons swarming like a black tide, their twisted forms clashing against the unyielding formation composed of dwarven warriors.

A faint radiance gathered before Evé, swelling gently until it took the form of an intricate magical array. As it traced itself into existence, a golden ring emerged from its center.

Sensing its contents, Eve’s expression showed a flicker of surprise.

“This much?!”

The sheer abundance of magical materials stored within the spatial ring made her pause. For a brief instant, she even wondered if her divine perception was playing tricks on her.

While she had indeed imposed a requirement for an offering in order to perform the Battlefield Summoning ritual, Evé had only intended for the dwarves to cover the energy cost of transporting the players. What she did not expect was for them to present such an overwhelming quantity of magical resources.

After all, the cost of spatial transference was far less than that of a standard teleportation. Even without considering the specific applications of the materials, the sheer concentration of magical energy stored within the ring would be enough to send players back and forth countless times without placing the slightest strain on her.

“I’ll keep this,” she murmured to herself. “Plenty of forging materials here. Whether I absorb them for power or sell them to the players, they will be put to good use.”

Her lips curved slightly in faint approval. “The dwarves have shown such sincerity. I should fulfill my end of the deal with equal earnestness.”

Satisfied, Evé stored the ring away. The glimmer of amusement in her eyes faded, replaced by a steady, focused calm as her demeanor shifted into something far more resolute.

“Feynir, begin the inter‑dimensional summoning procedure. Transfer the players according to the registration list.”

Evé shifted in her reclining seat, adjusting her posture with languid grace as her gaze turned toward Feynir, the ever‑energetic King of the Elemental Faeries.

“Yes, Your Grace!” came the bright and cheerful reply, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.

༺⟐༻

Elven Forest, Grey Haven

Li Mu set down his watering can and glanced at the system notification that had just appeared before his eyes.

“So it’s finally starting,” he murmured, his tone carrying a trace of anticipation.

He smiled faintly, placing the watering can aside.

“Nezha, can you finish watering the flowers for me? I’m going to run an errand for a moment.”

He called out, but there was no response.

Turning around, Li Mu realized his own elemental fairy had vanished at some point. Checking his minimap, he noticed a familiar glowing marker, not in his own yard per se, but in the neighboring garden belonging to Natsume.

Seeing it, Li Mu’s face stiffened.

“…Has that little rascal gone to fawn over Ding‑Dang again?!”

༺⟐༻

Northeastern Central Zone, Florence

Demacia, halfway through scrubbing a toilet, suddenly leapt to his feet with excitement.

“Ha! The event is finally starting. This time, I’ll definitely get a divine artifact repair voucher!”

He tossed the toilet cleaner aside and started toward the door, but paused mid‑stride. Looking back at the half‑cleaned toilet, he hesitated.

“Sigh, I’m always quitting halfway… That doesn’t seem right. I was finally close to restoring my reputation points too…”

He was torn for a moment. But when his eyes drifted back to the flashing queue number on his interface—which was now rapidly approaching his turn—he clenched his teeth.

“Ah, forget it. Fun comes first! My reputation can wait until next time!”

With that, he grabbed his gear and bolted for the door, opening the chat interface as he ran.

“Brother Mu! The Battlefield Summoning is happening!” he shouted.

༺⟐༻

Northern Elven Forest, beside the corpse of a slain magical beast

Moon Jasmine wiped the blood from her blade and slowly lifted her head.

“It’s begun?”

Her eyes lingered briefly on the summoning information. The corner of her lips curved upward.

“Eliminate every demon in sight, is it?”

A thirst for battle stirred within her.

“Ceasar, gather the loot quickly. We need to get ready to move to the next battlefield.”

“No rush. We’re still further in the queue. Our turn will take a while yet.”

༺⟐༻

Mountpeak City, Dark Mountains

Little Salty Cat had changed into a full set of divine‑grade equipment, each piece gleaming brilliantly, the radiant glow making her petite figure seem almost larger than life.

Behind her stood several fully armed players, which were all members of Moe Moe Committee.

As one of the first guilds to learn about the battlefield summoning, they had been among the earliest to sign up.

“Is everyone ready?” Little Salty Cat asked, her voice carrying a mix of excitement and determination.

“Yes!”

“No problem, Guildmaster!”

“Ready!”

One by one, the members answered, their voices firm and confident.

Little Salty Cat nodded, her smile bright and unwavering.

“Well then, they always say our guild, Moe Moe Committee, is nothing but a bunch of casual life‑players who know nothing about battle. This time, we will be the first to step onto the battlefield and carve a path for ourselves!”

Without hesitation, she tapped the confirmation prompt on her system interface for “Accept Summoner’s Call” and selected “Yes.”

A golden magical array formed beneath her feet, and dazzling light gradually enveloped her figure…

༺⟐༻

Deep within the sealed lands of the southern mountains

The sacred statue of the Elven Goddess shone with a golden radiance, exuding an aura of divine majesty that steadily gathered in intensity.

A whirling wind rose around the statue as its center, tugging at the High Pontiff’s beard and making it stream in the gale.

The High Pontiff narrowed his eyes against the statue’s ever‑brightening glow, his weathered features illuminated in the divine light.

“There is a response!” he cried, his voice ringing with both reverence and relief. “Her Grace has answered our call!”

The golden ring they used as an offering had vanished which was the clear proof that the Goddess of Life had accepted their plea.

A faint but growing divine pressure concentrated upon the holy statue.

The element‑charged winds stirred by the power surged ever more fiercely.

At that moment, even the walls of the cavern seemed to tremble faintly.

The demons besieging the dwarves let out uneasy growls, while the dwarven warriors felt their morale soar, pushing their enemies back in a sudden counter‑assault.

One by one, their eyes turned toward the shimmering statue at the heart of the cavern.

The golden light pouring from it swelled with every passing breath, brightening until it bathed the entire cavern in a radiance akin to midday sun. Jagged shadows fled from the walls, and even the deepest corners of the chamber seemed to come alive beneath its glow.

At last, the brilliance reached its zenith, erupting in a wave of shimmering ripples that swept outward from the statue in every direction.

Every dwarf touched by that wave felt their exhaustion vanish. Even the dull heaviness in their spirits, brought on by the corruption of the Abyss, lifted as vitality and determination returned to each of them.

In that instant, each dwarf felt it in their heart—this was a blessing from the Goddess of Life!

Almost immediately, faint and subtle spatial ripples began to pulse through the air, distorting the space around the statue as if the very fabric of reality were stirring.

Under the High Pontiff’s fervent gaze, in the hopeful eyes of the Sky Knight Tonglu, and amid the astonished stares of the accompanying dwarven warriors, lines of golden light began to weave themselves into existence. Slowly, they interlocked and curved, forming the intricate geometry of a vast summoning array.

The glowing patterns spread outward from the statue in perfect symmetry, crawling across the cavern floor and climbing over jagged stone, until they filled every open space within the chamber. The air grew thick with divine energy, and the hum of magic became a deep, resonant thrumming that seemed to echo in the bones of all who stood nearby.

“It is a summoning array! A divine summoning array!” cried a dwarven priest in the escort party, his voice trembling as he recognized the sacred symbols etched in living light.

In the next moment, the spatial fluctuations finally reached its zenith, and faint silhouettes bearing human forms began to emerge above the radiant array.

Though their bodies had yet to fully take shape, glimpses of polished armor and gleaming blades could already be seen, along with tall, pointed hats and the slender shapes of staves that shimmered faintly with arcane energy. These fragments of their appearance were enough to stir the dwarves’ imagination and set their hearts pounding with expectation.

Tonglu’s eyes widened, his gaze fixed and unblinking as he tried to make out every detail of the new arrivals.

These were the so‑called Chosen Ones, described by the High Pontiff as beings who embodied both chaos and order, both good and evil…

What sort of warriors would they prove to be?

Finally, the summoning array reached its completion.

One by one, figures clad in splendid gear emerged from the golden light. Some possessed prominent features that made them strikingly handsome, others moved with a grace and beauty that seemed almost ethereal, yet all shared the same unmistakable features of elves.

Closest to Tonglu stood a female elf.

Her long pink hair, slightly curled, framed a sweet, charming face. Atop her head, a tall, pointed wizard’s hat shimmered faintly with divine energy. The elaborate robe she wore was embroidered with intricate floral and magical patterns, exuding grandeur.

In her hands she held a magnificent staff crowned with a gemstone the size of a human head, pulsing with terrifying magical power.

Tonglu stared at the elven mage in utter disbelief.

“You’re… Lady Little Salty Cat? Lass, Y-You are a Chosen One?!”

The newly summoned Little Salty Cat let her lips curve into a gentle smile, her voice carrying the light teasing lilt of someone entirely at ease.

“Well, well, Sir Tonglu, we meet again~”

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