Chapter 128: The Continental War (16)

The blinding pillar of cosmic energy shattered. Red opened his eyes, taking in the world through the ocular nerves of a Kobold fanatic. The UI overlaid perfectly onto his physical vision. A sprawling, hyper-detailed grid of health bars, terrain elevations, and systemic warnings illuminated his sight.

A sharp crack echoed from his own chest. Glancing down, Red watched his dark scales splintering. Krug’s Faith Rank of 5 allowed him to survive the initial descent, yet the 100x multiplier actively tore the mortal vessel apart from the inside. Blood seeped from his gums. His internal organs were failing under the cosmic density. He had minutes before the Kobold simply detonated.

“Move,” Red muttered, his voice carrying a distorted resonance.

Fifty yards away, the descended Forgecaster stood atop the calcified dome of Old-Shell. The God of the Forge locked his molten eyes onto the tiny Kobold and commanded the hijacked bio-gas mortar tubes to pivot inward.

“Erase him!” the Forgecaster boomed.

Four massive alchemical artillery shells launched from the tubes. The projectiles arced across the burning sky, aimed directly at Red.

Raising a single, splintering hand, Red channeled his innate telekinesis through the 100x multiplier. The invisible force expanded from five kilograms to five hundred. The four massive shells slammed into an invisible wall directly above Red, hovering in absolute suspension.

The Forgecaster stepped back.

Red ignited the Violet Flame. The alchemical fire surged through his telekinetic grip, amplified one hundred times over its normal capacity. A terrifying, blinding purple inferno entirely consumed the suspended artillery shells. He flicked his wrist forward.

The supercharged explosives rocketed back at their creator at supersonic speeds. They struck the Forgecaster directly in his tungsten-forged chest. The subsequent detonation eclipsed the entire eastern ridge. Alchemical fire turned the hijacked metal plating into a sea of white-hot liquid.

Crouching low, Red launched himself. The 100x multiplier turned his leg muscles into a biological railgun, cratering the bedrock upon impact. He crossed the fifty-yard distance in a single bound to land directly on Old-Shell’s back.

The Forgecaster stumbled out of the smoke. His divine tungsten body dripped with structurally compromised metal.

“You are a glitch!” the Forgecaster screamed, raising his arms to form dual siege cannons.

Red swung Krug’s recycled-iron greataxe. The 100x Violet Flame roared off the edge—extending the blade into a ten-foot crescent of pure alchemical annihilation.

The strike cleaved through the cannons. Supercharged fire instantly vaporized the divine metal, melting the god’s vessel straight down the middle. The Forgecaster collapsed into a puddle of bubbling, mundane slag. The golden system notification for his permanent deletion flashed overhead.

[ ENTITY: FORGECASTER (RANK 11) – PERMANENTLY DELETED. ]

“Kill him now!” the Glacial Sovereign shouted from the frozen moat.

The Zephyr Lord bypassed the physical distance. Materializing directly behind Red on the Shell-Kin’s back, the god of wind unleashed a concentrated hurricane of razor-sharp wind-blades point-blank into the Kobold’s spine.

Turning his head, Red observed the attack. His 100x multiplied physical durability rendered the divine assault completely useless. The wind-blades sparked harmlessly against his splintering scales.

“My turn,” Red stated.

He extended his telekinetic grip across the ruined battlefield. Five hundred kilograms of shattered Star-Iron shrapnel tore free from the mud. Broken swords, cracked rifles, and crumpled armor plating launched into the sky. Red suspended the massive cloud of metal directly above the Zephyr Lord.

“What is this?” the Zephyr Lord gasped. His storm-filled eyes widened in genuine panic as he tried to summon a frictionless barrier.

Red coated the entire floating armory in 100x Violet Flame. He thrust his hand downward.

The telekinetic railgun fired. Hundreds of burning, hyper-accelerated Star-Iron projectiles tore through the divine wind barrier. The shrapnel shredded the Zephyr Lord’s physical manifestation. Pinned by the burning metal, the god shrieked as the strike severed his agility modifiers and anchored his ruined vessel to the calcified dome of Old-Shell.

Red spat a glob of black blood onto Old-Shell’s calcified dome. More cracks spiderwebbed across Krug’s snout. His internal organs were actively liquifying under the strain of the 100x multiplier.

Time was officially out.

Turning his head, Red locked his violet-glowing gaze onto the Glacial Sovereign. The descended god stood in the dead center of the frozen Continental Moat, surrounded by thousands of frozen, undead centaur-wights.

“You are the last anchor,” Red said, his voice a distorted, dual-layered growl that resonated across the ice.

He didn’t leap this time. Red simply accelerated. Using his 100x multiplied physical stats, he sprinted down Old-Shell’s back and onto the true-ice bridge. His movements were too fast for the server to properly render, appearing to the mortal armies as a continuous streak of dark scales and violent purple fire.

The Glacial Sovereign slammed his frost-staff into the ice. “Stop him! Protect the core!”

Thousands of frozen centaur-wights lunged forward, raising jagged ice spears. Red didn’t slow down. He coated his entire body in the 100x Violet Flame and ran directly through the undead phalanx. The alchemical heat instantly incinerated the wights upon contact, turning them into rushing clouds of steam and fine ash before they could even level their weapons.

Red closed the hundred-yard distance in two seconds.

The Glacial Sovereign frantically raised his true-ice barrier, creating a diamond-hard cocoon around his vessel.

“Useless,” Red grunted.

He reached out with his telekinetic grip. He bypassed the indestructible external barrier entirely. Targeting the 500kg force directly inside the Sovereign’s chest cavity, Red clamped down on the vessel’s internal organs.

With a cold flick of his wrist, he physically crushed the god’s heart and lungs into a bloody pulp.

The Glacial Sovereign gasped. His external ice cocoon instantly shattered as his concentration broke. He dropped to his knees, clutching his chest. Black, ichor-filled blood erupted from his mouth, spilling onto the white ice. His divine regeneration triggered, but the telekinetic force was still applied internally, pulverized the tissue faster than the game engine could mend it.

“Wait!” the Sovereign wheezed, looking up at Red through eyes filled with genuine terror. He recognized the brutal efficiency. He recognized the methodology. “We come from the same world.”

Red stopped a foot away from the dying god, towering over him in Krug’s breaking form.

He didn’t speak or try to have a conversation with him.

He simply stared at the god hemorrhage.

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