Game World: I Can Share Talents

Chapter 187 - 185: Essence of the Desolate God

Having experienced just how cunning and insidious this Dirt World Desolate God was, Westheid had no intention of giving it a chance to pull any tricks. He immediately resorted to the just tactic of ganging up on it.

’When you suspect an enemy is playing mind games, the best solution is to just kill them.’

’Just overwhelm it with raw damage. How’s that for a plan?’

At Westheid’s words, the Silver-haired Princess was the first to act. She hurled the Sunlight Spear from her hand, and a fleeting bolt of lightning pierced the Devourer’s bat-like wing with blinding speed.

"HISS—"

The Dirt World Desolate God cried out in pain. Unable to maintain its hover, it crashed to the ground.

Mivana and Westheid immediately followed. Attacking from either side, the Silver Sword and Shadow-Born pierced the Desolate God’s massive arms. They began to pin down and pummel the Devourer, splattering indistinct Chaos flesh everywhere.

"You! You! You just love to fucking run, don’t you?!"

Westheid frantically pummeled the Devourer’s face, venting his pent-up hatred as he roared:

"All you do is pull these cheap, underhanded tricks! Have some goddamn shame! Shame on you!"

The Devourer finally managed to find an opening, breaking free from the joint assault of the Wolf-eared Maiden and Duke Qinghui. But just as it did, azure lightning fell from the heavens. The Silver-haired Princess hurled down her Sword Spear, pinning the fleeing Dirt World Desolate God to the ground once more.

Westheid surged forward, cleaving the Devourer in two at the waist. Simultaneously, Mivana swiped with her claws, tearing out its heart.

’Now that’s what I call a hot-blooded combo!’

Even a creature as tough as the Dirt World Desolate God couldn’t withstand the trio’s relentless assault. After being sent flying like a ragdoll once more, the Devourer devoured several Fallen Beasts to partially heal its wounds. It then summoned Chaos Creatures to provide cover, saying:

"Argh... a grave miscalculation. You are all a little too strong. It seems I cannot stop you. The power of several Celestial Fathers... you truly spare no expense. I suppose... this round goes to you."

With the classic sore-loser tone of a gamer saying, ’Never won before? Fine, you can have this one,’ the Devourer began to retreat. Violently! Desperately! Madly!

"Wait, you’re fucking running *now*?!"

Westheid was stunned. ’The Gate of Chaos is right there, and this son of a bitch is actually trying to run away?!’

The Devourer shook its head with a humanlike gesture.

"This isn’t an escape. It is merely... *cough, cough*... to preserve my strength. I must remain alive to better fulfill the mission bestowed upon me by the Mother."

Westheid grew desperate at the Devourer’s shameless justification. He charged forward and roared:

"You dare run? Then I’ll have no choice but to warn the Divine Ancestor of Chaos’s plot."

"!!!"

The Devourer, who had been in the middle of turning to flee, froze mid-stride. It whipped its head around.

"How do you know? How could you possibly know?!"

"Hah. I just know."

’My gamble paid off,’ Westheid thought. As one of the rare intelligent beings in the Chaos Faction, the Devourer knew the Mother of Chaos was biding her time, accumulating power. It knew she planned to take advantage of the Celestial Gods’ indifference and contempt to make a move that would turn the tides.

The Devourer might abandon the Gate of Chaos. It might cast aside decades of its corrupting work. But as a Demon created for a purpose, it could never commit an act that would so obviously jeopardize the interests of Chaos.

"Well? Do you still want to run?"

Westheid stared at the Devourer, speaking slowly and deliberately.

"Or perhaps you’re fine with me warning the Celestial Gods? Do you still believe that would be in line with your original mission?"

’The warning would probably be useless,’ Westheid mused, ’but even if there was only a one-in-a-million chance it wasn’t, a Chaos Creature couldn’t take that risk.’

The Devourer finally stopped. The towering beast stood as if it had malfunctioned, frantically shaking its head in the face of Westheid’s soul-piercing questions.

"I... I was preserving my strength. I was doing it to better complete my mission. That’s how it’s always been. I did a good job... but why..."

"I see... so that’s how it is... Am I... afraid to die?"

"Hahaha... So I was... lying? I was lying!"

As if it had finally understood something, the Devourer clutched its head and began pounding the ground, letting out a horrifying, grating laugh.

"Hahaha! I can’t laugh! I fucking can’t be laughing!!"

"I’ve been tainted by so much of Order’s poison! Mother... Mother! Forgive me..."

Letting out a sound like a whimper, the Devourer raised its claws and plunged them into its own chest.

SQUELCH—SQUELCH—

The Desolate God’s flesh began to twist and expand. In the wake of the Devourer’s suicidal act, a spatiotemporal vortex appeared in the sky above.

Like a colossal beast opening its eye, the vortex flickered, illuminating the world one moment and plunging it into darkness the next, all while lightning flashed and thunder roared. The vortex expanded at an astonishing rate, absorbing the flesh and blood the Devourer had offered up in sacrifice.

A colossal shadow rapidly blanketed the land.

’It’s finally unleashing its true nature...’

Westheid immediately fell back, warily watching the transformation unfold before him.

As a Tier Two being of the Chaos Hundred Forms, the Dirt World Desolate God’s purpose was simple: it was a suicide bomb.

It would unleash its essence, using that very essence as fuel to madly corrupt a Land of Order and forcibly construct a Chaos Domain. This was the origin of the title "Dirt World Desolate God."

In theory, as a Dirt World Desolate God, the Devourer should have chosen a Land of Order to corrupt long ago. Its survival for over a century suggested a cowardly fear of death.

As the vortex expanded until it seemed ready to envelop and tear apart the very sky, all the Chaos Creatures on the hills and plains of the battlefield were drawn in. Whether they were pouring from the Gate of Chaos, fighting the legion on the front lines, or even part of the mountain of Demon corpses piled before the Crown of Banquet Fire, none were spared.

Only the Chaos Demons could perceive the astonishing gravitational pull. Regardless of size, Tier, or whether they were living or dead, all were swept into the vortex.

After a gestation that seemed to last for an eternity...

A behemoth descended.

Its massive form, emerging from the endless storm, slowly fell from the heavens.

Violent lightning churned as terrifying power crashed down in waves, washing over everything on the hills. A majestic aura of Chaos surged forth, threatening to drown the entire world. The mighty behemoth brandished its great horns with abandon, flapped its wings, and descended to the earth within a black tornado.

Its mountain-sized form made the very earth tremble as if it were liquid, sending out rolling, tide-like waves. Pale blue-white electricity arced across its enormous bony horns, announcing its presence.

As massive as a mountain peak and hundreds of meters tall, its body contained an immense, majestic power. Far in the distance, the earth buckled from its descent, sending out rolling waves of dust. The flat plain collapsed into a basin, a depression that continued to spread outward. Dust waves tens of meters high swept over everything in their path. One by one, hills and small mountains were submerged and then crumbled, until the area for several kilometers around was choked with dust and smoke.

"ROOOOAR!!!!"

A single roar, a hundred times more powerful than thunder, shook the very atmosphere and echoed for miles around. The Desolate God’s long howl produced a series of sonic booms. The air itself seemed to turn to liquid, rippling with violent shockwaves. An unending gale spread out in all directions, blasting away the dust and dirt kicked up by its landing.

The dust wave, carried on the gale, swept toward the Qinghui Legion. Every hill and slope in its path was scoured clean. Only then did the sound finally reach Westheid—a roar so deep it was utterly soul-shaking.

’This is a little over the top...’