novelraw Chapter 143 : Divine Descent
Chapter 143 : Divine Descent
Chapter 143: Divine Descent
Inside the mechanical flesh planet.
Wuuu—Rumble!
Amidst the hiss of steam and the clang of metal, a massive train constructed with the pinnacle of mechanical aesthetics rumbled slowly along the dark star river.
Wherever it passed, the sounds of things being crushed echoed from time to time, blood and flesh flying everywhere.
Black, paste-like fluid continuously seeped from the surface of the train, dripping to the ground and inciting fierce competition among countless shadowy figures.
The train had five carriages in total. On the surface of each were all kinds of mechanical buildings. The middle three carriages were fused with features of flesh and blood, as if breathing life into the cold machinery.
The rear carriage was quite old, retaining a purely old-fashioned mechanical design. Styled like the steam era, it was mainly brass, with numerous components linked together like scales.
Yet its internal space was vast, comparable to a medium-sized town.
Inside a precision mechanical workshop, the hands of an old-fashioned bronze clock engraved with the character “福” ticked along.
Ka! Ka! Ka!
Due to its age, the clock’s hour hand had long since rusted. Every hour, it emitted a screeching “siii-la” sound as it moved—like a blade scraping across metal—sharp and grating.
Beneath the clock, a voice spoke.
“Sister Yue, have some water first. Are you really going through with this? Isn’t it too dangerous...?”
The speaker was a beautiful girl with purple short hair wearing a gray work uniform, her gloved hands stained with large amounts of black oil. She handed over a cup of water filtered by a machine.
Her purple eyes stared nervously at the more mature girl before her—who shared roughly eighty percent of her appearance, only with long purple hair—diligently crafting something with her tools.
Around both their necks were visible fine, light-red scales.
On the floor and the table, mechanical serpents made of gears carried different parts in their mouths and continuously delivered them into a red cloth, adding piece after piece.
“Fuling, we have no other choice.”
Fuyue lifted her head, wiped the sweat from her forehead with her wrist, took a sip of water, and spoke softly, “I know you’re scared. Honestly, I don’t know what will happen either. But the Fuserpent Clan has reached the brink of life and death.”
“Once, we were the rulers of this world. But now... we’re just a group of lingering failures. Our bloodline has degenerated—we can’t even manifest our serpent tails anymore, with only a few scales left as symbols. We can indulge in fantasies of past glories, but this dream won’t last much longer.”
Saying this, Fuyue gave a self-mocking smile.
Beside her, Fuling looked gloomy and muttered:
“But at least we’re still alive, aren’t we?”
Fuyue sneered, “The ones we once took in, in the blink of an eye, became usurpers, slaughtering our people. Then we’re supposed to kneel and beg for the lands that were originally ours, just because they graciously ‘gift’ them back to us?”
“Shh!”
Fuling flailed her hands nervously and glanced around. She whispered, “You’re speaking too loudly! The mech-insect guards will hear you.”
Ever since the mutation began, all living beings aboard the train had been infected by that bizarre black oil.
“So what if they hear?” Fuyue said coldly. “Don’t you get it? The moment we retreated from the ‘Command Carriage’ to the ‘Inner City Third Ring,’ without resistance, we forfeited our right to fight back.
“They’ve passed the initial stage of weakness and now control most of the ‘Serpent-Father Train.’ Every insect that passes by, every rat underground—they’ve all been corrupted into their claws and fangs, monitoring everything.
“Most of the Fuserpent Clan has been seduced into accepting the so-called ‘Final Oil Baptism’—mechanical ascension, they call it. But in truth, it’s just another form of parasitism, transforming them into strange white porcelain beings. That so-called retained consciousness is more like imitation, a replica.”
She sighed. “We lacked the ruthlessness. Our claws were pulled. They took inch after inch until they drove us here, to the ‘Serpent-Tail Carriage.’
“You know what this place is? Originally used as bait to lure primal star beasts—a trap location, meant to be abandoned at any time. Sever the tail to survive.”
Fuyue’s expression turned bitter as countless memories surfaced in her mind.
This world was once ruled by the half-human, half-serpent Fuserpent Clan. Led by their Prophet, who revered the great being known as the ‘Father of All Serpents,’ they received divine blessings and ignited the flame of civilization.
Thus, they were born with keen spiritual sight and spiritual sensitivity, able to manipulate flesh power and control transcendent spirit beasts, using their own bodies to aid bloodline evolution.
They were born as high beings of desire and flesh, and thus flourished in a brilliant transcendent civilization.
Later, the Prophet slumbered, and his bloodline became the royal line, ruling over the Fuserpent Clan.
Until one day, the sky darkened. The sun and moon disappeared, replaced by an eternal starry sky.
To the Fuserpent Clan, those dazzling stars resembled festering flesh.
Utterly foul.
That night,
Powerful Fuserpent clansmen went insane one after another, gouging out their own eyes in horror at an unspeakable terror, committing suicide.
From then on, the Starcalamity descended.
Tidal waves of primal star beasts surged from the void of the starry sky. They feared no death, craved flesh, and spread a mutation wherever they passed.
Cities fell, lives were lost.
It was said they were evil creatures from beyond the stars—minions of eldritch gods.
As extinction loomed, the long-vanished Prophet of the Fuserpent Clan returned, proclaiming that the world had become tainted and the transcendent laws twisted.
But he had received the inheritance of Dao Refining from the Father of All Serpents. Rallying the entire clan, gathering precious materials, he brought forth a colossal serpent bone and a shed skin—the divine remnants of the Father of All Serpents’ child.
Using them, he built an indestructible, self-repairing, perpetually moving nation:
The Serpent-Father Train!
The Prophet gathered all his people onto this moving train, fleeing endlessly to escape the star beasts, mining resources for power.
They traveled through the darkness.
Due to nearing the end of his life, the Prophet chose to slumber in the train’s Command Carriage.
But with the celestial mutation, the sun and moon ceased to rise, and only the stars turned to mark time. The Fuserpent Clan’s high spiritual sight became a curse, prone to madness.
Many chose to sever their bloodline, leading to further degeneration. The serpent tails vanished, replaced by legs.
Three hundred years have passed.
Now, the Fuserpent Clan had only a few scattered scales to prove their serpentine heritage.
Yet with their unmatched intellect, even without transcendent tech, they pioneered a brilliant Treasure Refinement civilization, birthing “science” and mechanical arts, crafting countless magic tools and mechanical creations.
Using machines and firepower, they barely resisted the star beast tides with near-transcendent combat power.
Through generations of relentless effort, the original Serpent-Father Train evolved into an unbreakable fortress, adapting to this apocalyptic era of darkness.
The train moved like a spark in the void—flickering, yet perhaps one day igniting hope to pierce the gloom.
Until—
“They took in those outsiders.”
Fuyue clenched her fists.
Father died fighting the star beasts.
Only a few hundred clansmen remained, and even the most important control over the Serpent-Father Train was lost.
They were nothing more than a pack of homeless serpents.
Even restarting their bloodline’s spiritual sight to gain transcendent power was now impossible.
Fuling whispered, “Wouldn’t that be even more dangerous?”
An existence more terrifying than the star beasts could bring eternal annihilation.
“I know what you’re worried about, but…”
Fuyue gently patted her younger sister’s head and said softly, “I’m not summoning a full Quasi‑Stellar King, but merely a projection of it, to merge with my creation.”
As she spoke, she yanked off the red cloth. A massive eggshell appeared before them. Countless gears rotated and shifted, as if alive, emitting a suffocating aura.
Fuling looked on in shock, muttering, “This is...”
“I’ve possessed top-tier spiritual sight and memory since childhood. By the age of ten, I’d already mastered the essentials of Dao Refinement, becoming a master in both Dao Refinement and mechanical arts. I then spent five more years mastering every single inherited mechanical technique.
Father said I was the greatest genius in the history of the Fuserpent Clan. If not for the end of the transcendent era, I could have easily become a top-tier powerhouse.
Now, at twenty, I’ve spent another five years researching, combining the Luban Dao Refinement inherited from the Prophet, the Quasi‑Stellar King Summoning Ritual, and the Fuserpent Clan’s original flesh-desire cultivation methods, and I’ve developed a unique technology—Stellar King Armament.”
Speaking to this point, Fuyue’s expression turned fervent. “Since our bodies can’t withstand transcendent power and easily mutate from spiritual sight, and mechanical creations are external and prone to going out of control...
Even though we’ve severed our bloodline, we still possess strong perception abilities, which is why we can be transformed by Final Oil into powerful mechanical lifeforms.
So why not change our approach? Give ourselves a new skin—create special flesh-mechanical battle armor, and use a powerful soul as the medium to control it, thus gaining immense personal combat power...”
Hearing this, Fuling was stunned. “You’re saying... you want to refine a Quasi‑Stellar King into battle armor!?”
“Half right!”
Fuyue wore an expression like her foolish little sister had finally caught on, beaming with pride: “Ordinary star beasts’ armor can’t resist the corrosion of Final Oil. Only a Quasi‑Stellar King, even just a projection, can rewrite a hopeless situation.
Actually, when the train was first forged, not all of the serpent-shed skin from the Father of All Serpents’ offspring was used. A third was hidden in the royal treasury. When I left the Command Carriage, I took it and fused it into what has become my proudest masterpiece—Evolved Celestial Serpent Egg.
It can, based on the Quasi‑Stellar King’s own power, produce perfectly compatible battle armor and develop special abilities. And since the Command Carriage is shielded from Final Oil, it can absorb it as fuel, creating a top-tier armor with infinite energy.
We can regain our old beast-controlling abilities—only now, we’ll be controlling battle armor to help it evolve. No need to worry about contamination. Now, all that’s left is the final ritual to complete it.”
As she said this, Fuyue’s expression grew elated. If she could create this legendary armor, it could reverse the chaos and reclaim control of the Serpent-Father Train.
Maybe even—
Rely on the Quasi‑Stellar King’s dominance over lower star beasts to drive back the Starcalamity, and restore the Fuserpent Clan’s former glory.
“Sis, that’s wonderful.”
Fuling’s voice came through choked with sobs. When she looked up, her face was streaked with tears.
“Don’t cry. Everything will get bett—”
Fuyue reached out to comfort her, but her hand froze in midair, her voice cutting off.
Because she saw black oil oozing from beneath the scales on Fuling’s neck, wriggling slowly like a living thing.
Fuyue didn’t scream. Her expression darkened, her voice hoarse as she asked, “When did you undergo the baptism?”
Fuling lowered her head and whispered, “I’m sorry, Sister.”
“Three days ago, I went into the Inner City to pick up some condensed nutrient blocks, but two Final Oil mechs went out of control and splashed some on me. I thought I was fine, but... I was infected after all...”
“Don’t try to lie to me!”
Fuyue interrupted coldly. “Final Oil contamination spreads rapidly. You being able to maintain your flesh for so long—even with help suppressing it—shouldn’t last more than a day.”
At those words, the mechanical workshop fell completely silent.
“Sigh…”
Fuling sighed. The cowardice from earlier vanished, replaced by a chilling smile:
“You know, I originally wanted to give you a dignified end, tell you the truth only when you died so I could see your face in despair. But I didn’t expect to get exposed so soon.”
“Why?” Fuyue sighed.
“How dare you ask me that!”
Fuling flung her arm, knocking away several mechanical snakes that tried to intervene. Her expression twisted:
“Because you were always too dazzling. Ever since we were little, you were everyone’s center of attention. The genius. The beautiful one. The smart one...
And me? The only thing anyone ever said was, ‘Learn from your sister.’ No one cared about me. No one noticed me. Why? We were born together—why are you so exceptional, loved by all, while I had to live in your shadow? No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t earn even a flicker of Father’s attention.
I tossed and turned every night, asking why the Serpent-Father was so cruel—giving everything to you and leaving me with nothing.”
Taking a deep breath, Fuling sneered, “But when the Broken Mechanical Court arrived, and everyone received the Final Oil baptism, you were knocked off your pedestal. Seeing the perfect genius troubled—it was so satisfying.”
Fuyue stared blankly at her blood sister, unable to believe this was how she’d seen her all along.
She sighed. “What did they promise you?”
Fuling said coldly, “Kick you off the train. Reclaim all your Dao Refinement creations. Without you, the rest of the clansmen would give up resistance and accept the Final Oil baptism. Then we’ll fully transform the Serpent-Father Train—mechanical immortality.”
Fuyue said through clenched teeth, “Don’t you realize they’re using us to wipe each other out, to cut off the Prophet’s chance of revival?”
“I don’t care. This rotten world should’ve died long ago.”
Fuling laughed lightly, reaching out her hand toward Fuyue.
“You’ve never been my match since we were kids!”
Fuyue frowned and tried to subdue her, but her body still felt weak—then it hit her.
“The water—something was in it!”
“Very clever. Too bad you realized too late. Most of your mechanical creations—I’ve already disrupted them and sent them elsewhere.”
Fuling grinned triumphantly and took out a metallic sphere. With a press of her finger, it collapsed into a rope, binding Fuyue and the Celestial Serpent Egg together tightly.
“I was going to kill you outright, but now... I’ve changed my mind…”
As she spoke, the floor beneath her feet cracked open, revealing starry-soil hues of the dark cosmos. The train sped onward.
As royals, they still had faint control over the Serpent-Tail Carriage.
“Sister, with your foolish invention, get lost from the Serpent-Father Train. On this rotten land, watch as I and the rest of the clan achieve mechanical ascension—immortal, undead, living forever in despair.”
With those words, Fuyue and the Celestial Serpent Egg were thrown out, rolling along the ground, only able to watch helplessly as the train disappeared into the distance.
Fuyue wasn’t angry. Feeling strength slowly return to her limbs, her eyes filled with sorrow, and she muttered:
“Silly child… as if they’d really keep their word... wait, this is...”
She lifted her head. Her sharp senses picked something up, and she looked toward the dark wilderness.
“Rooooar!”
From the depths of that darkness came low, rising howls. Pairs of scarlet eyes opened, filled with hunger.
Looking out—densely packed, like a surging tide—they charged toward the Serpent-Father Train.
Or rather—toward the Serpent-Tail Carriage.
“Enemy attack!”
“The star beasts are back!”
“Everyone, wake up! Get ready!”
The terrifying howls plunged the Serpent-Tail Carriage into chaos. Weapons were grabbed, mechanical guards summoned, faces tense.
They couldn’t understand. Wasn’t the train moving? Why had a massive Starcalamity suddenly arrived!?
Inside the mechanical workshop,
Fuling sat in a chair. Her face showed no joy of “revenge,” only a soft murmur:
“You’re the foolish one, Sister. Their patience is at its limit. They’re using this beast tide to eliminate the Serpent-Tail Carriage, keeping only me, the royal, alive—to delay the Prophet’s revival.
But they only saw my jealousy of you, never my admiration. I always wanted to be like you.
If the Serpent-Father Train doesn’t belong to the Fuserpent Clan, then it has no meaning.
As our last hope, take the Celestial Serpent Egg, live well. I hope your plan succeeds.”
As for summoning the Quasi‑Stellar King, Fuling had no expectations. She’d already seen through this world.
Behind the stars lay only deeper madness.
Even if summoned, it would only be a greater taboo.
More likely, it was nothing more than the insane ramblings of past Fuserpent powerhouses.
If a Quasi‑Stellar King truly existed—it would have already arrived.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The star beasts surged forward, smashing into the carriage, gnawing at the mechanical structure. Some had bird-like shapes with tentacles, ramming the glass ceiling over and over.
With their suicidal assaults, the mechanical barrier dented, and cracks spread across the crystal dome.
Boom boom boom!
Hidden weapons and mechanical guards in the Serpent-Tail Carriage were activated, unleashing a storm of bullets that shredded many star beasts, sending blood and flesh flying.
But unless completely annihilated, these fearless creatures would drag their broken bodies forward, madly attacking weapon modules and tearing out defense nodes.
Boom boom boom!
Mechanical traps made from dark crystals detonated, blasts echoing and fire lighting up, blowing apart more beasts—only for others to surge in behind them.
They climbed, rammed the carriage’s outer shell, and even used explosions to counterattack the train’s defenses.
To prevent breaches, older steam titans were deployed, swinging massive arms to crush beasts—only to be swarmed and ripped apart.
Finally, one octopus-like star beast wrapped its tentacles around its arms and legs, secreting a star-hued fluid that corroded mechanical joints.
Even star beast blood was corrosive to machines.
“There are at least tens of thousands of primal star beasts—it’s a major star beast tide!”
At this moment, the Fuserpent people were filled with fear. They couldn’t understand why the other carriages hadn’t sent help yet. Panic and the shadow of death spread.
As for the Starlight Cannons and more advanced weapons, they were all stored in the Inner City Third Ring and the Command Carriage—requiring vast energy to operate.
They wouldn’t be activated unless in absolute crisis.
At this moment, Fuling appeared calm. Ironically, her plan for mutual destruction wasn’t even needed.
The Command and Inner City showed no response, as if they didn’t care whether the remaining Fuserpent clansmen lived or died.
She had already guessed why.
It was most likely the 【Serpent-Mechanic Council】 that had hidden a group of Fuserpent clanspeople to serve as anchor points to suppress the Prophet.
As for the serpent-tail carriage, as long as they didn’t personally carry out the slaughter, and with the star beasts’ invasion activating the defense protocols, it would not awaken the Prophet deep within the Serpent-Father Train.
“What a clever ploy—killing with a borrowed knife.”
Fu Ling let out a self-deprecating laugh, opened the roof of the mechanical workshop, and looked toward the top of the carriage—there, a circular transparent dome ground from a special crystalline stone could be seen.
Through it, one could see the starry sky that had replaced the sun and moon, eternally unchanged.
“Really wish I could see what the sun and moon look like…”
Since birth, she had only heard stories and read records that passed down descriptions of the sun and moon.
She had never experienced their warm radiance either.
Gazing at the firmament, Fu Ling murmured, “They must be beautiful.”
Ka-ka-ka!
The cracks in the dome were growing larger and larger. The star beasts were about to break through at any moment.
From the front of the carriage came the sound of cracking as well—the original connection points were gradually collapsing, seemingly preparing to discard them at any moment.
“Fu Ling!”
Out on the wilderness, Fu Yue witnessed the scene and shouted hoarsely. She had already regained some strength and now realized that the other party had learned something and had deliberately thrown her down.
All just to let her survive.
It was all a performance for those mechanic insect watchers.
But…
What meaning did a world with only oneself hold?
She slit her wrist, letting the blood drip onto the Egg of the Celestial Serpent. With her finger, she etched the summoning ritual, placing down one reverse scale after another from the ancient Fuserpent powerhouses.
They were the crystallization of their transcendent power.
The Prophet had discovered that the Fuserpent clan made the most suitable sacrifices.
Though a part of it remained incomplete, she could no longer worry about that.
The serpent-tail carriage would soon be devoured—she could only forcibly initiate the ritual!
Through her powerful spiritual sight, Fu Yue softly chanted the ancient incantation:
“O mighty and exalted Quasi‑Stellar King, descend upon this place!”
But no matter how she called, there was no response.
As if the legend of the Quasi‑Stellar King was nothing but a tale.
A lie told by madmen.
Even if she wanted to attract the star beasts with her own blood scent, it was no match for the allure of an entire carriage full of living beings.
At that moment, Fu Yue was plunged into utter despair. From excessive blood loss, her body trembled and she collapsed to the ground with a thud.
She looked at the carriage overrun by star beasts, her gaze filled with hopelessness.
“Everything is over.”
“A new world is about to begin.”
At the helm of the Serpent-Father Train, a figure draped in a black robe watched this scene and chuckled lightly, preparing to witness the final scene before victory.
Boom!
At that moment, the crystalline dome shattered, and a flood of star beasts poured in.
Death was about to descend.
Kneeling upon the diseased land beneath the mutated dark starry sky, Fu Yue’s tears fell in streams, splashing into droplets that refracted the colors of the starlit sky.
Yet in that moment, within her nearly withered heart, a mysterious voice rang out.
Like the turning of stars, like the crackling of fire.
Buzz!
The Egg of the Celestial Serpent suddenly burst forth with radiance, thumping like a heart, rising slowly into the air.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
In that moment, it pulsed slowly, like the heart of an ancient and mysterious lifeform, erupting with black beams of light that shot into the dark starry sky.
Like a stone thrown into water, it sent ripples through the sky.
Boom!
A terrifying pressure spread outward from it, making the previously frenzied, death-defying star beasts emit low growls. Their bodies trembled instinctively, as if overcome by fear.
“This is…”
Fu Ling's eyes were filled with shock. Reflected in her purple pupils was a golden sun rising into the starry sky.
A hallucination?
It was indeed… exceptionally warm.
On the wilderness, Fu Yue lifted her head and witnessed an unforgettable scene in this lifetime.
From within those ripples, countless golden tree roots spread out, swiftly crawling across the surrounding starry sky. Within each root flowed veins of golden light, resplendent and dazzling, radiant like sunlight.
The roots pried open a massive golden gate, preventing it from closing.
From within that golden gate, a small “black sun” slowly descended, surrounded by a halo of white light, illuminating the night.
No—that was no sun!
Fu Yue's eyes widened, and her terrifying spiritual sight allowed her to see through the true form of the black sun ahead of time.
It was a humanoid entity with a nebula-like face, no limbs, radiating both divinity and eeriness. Around it floated and intertwined nine starlight tendrils, forming a brilliant star river, accompanying it in its slow descent.
……
……
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