[With this mediocre skill, you think you can beat us? Hilarious!]
Slaughter these brats, devour all of Aztland, and end this era!
This is the general mindset of the undead. Because they are no longer living beings, they are curses and the darkness of the dead. At least 99% of their thoughts are negative.
So only Mikt, their underworld sun, frowned and said, "Even if we turn them all into undead, it won't do us any good."
"The dead need no benefit, and there won't be any," some of the dead replied. "We only have the past, not the future. Let this little girl who wants a future know that the world isn't just about pretty words."
Only by annihilating this entire nation can we achieve justice for the dead. Let all the living in the universe know the price of sacrificing the dead!
These statements are all correct.
Miktikahiva also knew that their ideas weren't necessarily wrong.
However, despite this, she still wanted to say to the undead that made it up: "Perhaps. But if we let them go, we can retain a sliver of hope to change the situation."
This statement only resulted in a large number of protests.
"Why would you want to let them go?" a necromancer asked. "Don't be mistaken, Miktikashiva. This clone may have your physical genes, most of your memories, and inherited your wickedness and cunning. But she is not you, not even your daughter—she is the one with the opportunity to redeem herself, not you!"
We are already dead, with no chance to start over! We can only suffer in darkness forever! Since that's the case, let's drag this world, built on our suffering, down with us!
A roar of cheers suddenly echoed through the tsunami of the dead.
You've really misunderstood. Of course I know she's not me. How could someone so childish be me?
Micket responded with a sneer.
I don't intend to start over. The dead can't be redeemed. But we now have a sliver of hope—a chance to prevent the future from becoming us, a chance to allow those of us imprisoned here… to move forward.
She looked at all the spirits of the South American underworld, at all the parts that made up her personality, and then said:
I don't intend to start over. But her future can begin here.
The many undead looked at each other in bewilderment. Then some of them said, "Okay."
But many undead reacted with: "Why should I? You've been bewitched by the clone and suddenly want to change the future. We don't have any clones living in this world!"
This is indeed a problem. Micket had long anticipated that things might turn out this way. That's why Angela just asked her if she was determined to give up everything she had now.
The vengeful spirits will not give up easily. And these vengeful spirits are also a part of Micket, perhaps even the majority. After all, most of the dead who were sacrificed are filled with resentment after death.
But Mickett had already made up his mind.
"If you object, then I only have one option left."
She raised her hands and sneered at the billions of undead.
"Anyone who disagrees, step forward! Let me destroy you all with my own hands, and utterly destroy our past!"
363: Anyway, it's not a pity to burn it.
The darkness of the underworld is deeper than anything else. Here, one cannot feel the passage of time, nor does one know how long one has been tormented.
Isham floated in this cold, dark sea, letting the darkness devour her heart, her consciousness already clouded.
【Islam, open your eyes.】
Until she heard a voice calling her in the darkness.
As the pain gradually subsided, Am opened her eyes groggily... and the sight before her shocked her.
The artificial underworld in South America is burning.
A bright white sea of fire churned on the dark, greasy tide of the dead, the intense heat scorching Amu's skin (though only in her consciousness). She looked around and saw many of the dead's souls ablaze, crying and fleeing in the darkness. Their flames even illuminated a tiny bit of the darkness of the underworld.
Miktikashiva, on the other hand, stands atop all the dead, setting the underworld ablaze and turning it into strange colors.
For a moment, Am was stunned. But then she immediately realized that it was very strange for Mickett to be standing there and talking to her.
"You...what are you doing?"
So Am asked, trembling with fear.
"I ignited the artificial underworld from the inside," Micket replied casually. "The artificial underworld has absorbed too much of the living people and divine power it just consumed; it's like having too much gasoline added, and it'll explode easily with just a spark. The smoke goggles limit my power manipulation, but I can still conjure up a tiny spark."
At first glance, it seemed to make sense, but Amu had common sense. She even possessed most of Micket's knowledge, so she immediately realized what was happening and was even more shocked: "Aren't you burning your own spirit?!"
Because the artificial underworld in South America is Miket. Her self is entirely pieced together from the blood sacrifices of the dead accumulated over thousands of years. She is the underworld, so burning the underworld is, of course, burning herself.
So what? Most of the dead oppose me, so I'll just have to let them truly die.
Mickett remained nonchalant, fiddling with the soul fire.
These stupid things should just be burned. What's the loss?
Upon hearing this, Am looked around and realized that only she had been awakened by Mickett; the other four hundred guerrillas were still submerged in the Sea of the Dead. Although they hadn't drowned yet—the protective spells Hayden had given them were still effective, and the number of undead had been greatly reduced by the burning—they were clearly still suffering. The underworld and the soul fire ignited by Mickett were now tormenting them.
"...You didn't rescue anyone else."
"They're none of my business." Mickett glanced at the other drowning guerrillas. "They're your men; your misjudgment has trapped them all here with you. It's your responsibility to save them."
Am was speechless. Having just learned her lesson, she realized that she had indeed been too confident.
"...But I don't have the power to save people."
She said somewhat dejectedly,
"Some difficulties can be overcome with wit and willpower, but real crises always require strength to fight."
[How ugly. Where did your arrogant confidence go? Is this the goddess who boasted about creating a bright future?]
Micket looked at Amm and scoffed.
You think power falls from the sky? You also have most of my memories, knowing that when I was first created, I was just a blank slate, a minor god. It was only through a thousand years of blood sacrifice and four hundred years of capital operation that I became who I am today. If you want power, go and seize it yourself, earn it.
“Do you expect me to follow your example and consume blood sacrifices and operate capital? Absolutely not.” Amu immediately shook his head. “I do have a part of your memories, so I know that what happened today is the result of the cause sown by consuming blood sacrifices and operating capital. If I want things to be different tomorrow, I absolutely cannot follow the same old path.”
Even if it was to save lives?
“Even to save people, it’s not okay. Even to save my friends, it’s not okay.” Amu turned to look at the guerrilla fighters still trapped in the Sea of the Dead, sad but resolute. “Because I’ve learned this lesson. The evil I do today, I’ll definitely get my comeuppance tomorrow. And then even more people will suffer.”
"So what are you planning to do now?" Mickett looked back at the guerrillas with Am. "Are you just going to watch them die today? I've seen a lot of people who talk a good game but do nothing. They just hope, dream, and pretend, but they can't change a single damn thing in their lives. So you're just another kid like that, unrealistic and irresponsible."
These words finally made Am hesitate and waver.
Many people harbor a grand ideal, wanting to create a world where no one is oppressed or exploited. But what is the result? In the end, they still have to compromise when faced with difficulties, trying to sacrifice more for less, and ultimately sliding step by step into depravity.
South American magic has too many aspects that need to be reset. Many years ago, the gods and magic here were led down a dark path. This path has led the entire South American social system toward pain and terror, and what replaces this terror must not be an even more terrifying tomorrow.
To achieve a bright goal, one cannot use dark means.
...But when real-world difficulties actually come crashing down, this idealism easily collapses.
Isham was at a loss. She was ultimately not enough to represent the future of Aztland, and had no way to illuminate a path to light.
Fortunately, Micket set the artificial underworld on fire today; he didn't want to be a demon next to her ear.
"Since you're already here, I'll offer you a solution, little girl." Micket held up two fingers to Am. "Option One: I've already saved you. Hayden won't die anyway. Next, I'll throw you back into the material world. You guys figure out how to defeat the rest of the Smoke Mirror. Consider these four hundred guerrillas as casualties in battle. Forget it."
Option 2: I'll transfer the remaining resources of this artificial underworld to you.
At this point, Mickert smiled contemptuously.
The artificial underworld has started a raging fire, like a wildfire that cannot be extinguished. However, there's still some energy left before it completely burns out, and some time remaining. You can use it to save your warriors and, before it burns out completely, work with Kallen to defeat the Smoke Mirror. But once you reconnect to the artificial underworld, you will also be burned to death.
"So, Isamim? Are you going to become firewood for that bright tomorrow you speak of?"
For a moment, Am was speechless and fell silent.
How could she die? She was so young, barely a few months old. She was a child, she hadn't truly experienced life, hadn't yet grasped many things: growing up, living…
Mickett, this old woman, is the one who has benefited from all the evils of South America; she should be tomorrow's firewood… But that's not how it works; thinking like that is too despicable, too hypocritical. Ultimately, Mickett, the artificial underworld, is merely a victim of the entire South American social system. Victims of this system are dying every moment, many insignificant deaths. The Smoke Mirror alone has amassed tens of millions today…
Yes, it's time. Thinking about it that way, it actually makes a lot of sense. A person must not only bear responsibility for the sins and karmic burdens they commit, but the evil deeds of their parents will also be reflected in their children. Isham's life was also built on the evil development of South America, and indeed, it should all be eradicated completely, without leaving a trace.
Thinking this way, Am felt much better. She raised her head, shook it sadly, and then looked into Mickett's eyes, saying, "I'm ready. Transfer the artificial underworld to me."
But she didn't actually see Mickett's eyes.
Because Micket had already reached out and shoved her hard—shoving her away. For a moment she was surprised and confused, while simultaneously feeling the gravitational pull of the material world. Am was being pushed rapidly away from the artificial underworld.
You're still a foolish and useless thing. Even now, you still don't know what's important. You're so fragile; you don't deserve to die with me.
She saw Mickett shove her away while giving a contemptuous sneer.
Get out of my underworld! Continue your pathetic life!
She saw the white soul fire ignite on Mickett's body as well, and saw her, along with the entire underworld, be engulfed in a massive flame, burning endlessly.
This is what Amu saw last in the underworld.
--------------------------------
Returning to the material world, and to the battlefield between the Smoke Mirror and Kallen.
Although Kallen has not yet been defeated, she is already on the defensive and at a clear disadvantage under the combined attack of a Smoke Mirror and a Micket, two standard God-level combatants.
Perhaps that's not the right way to put it. After all, Kallen's power is at most equivalent to 0.9 parts of a main god. To be able to fight a protracted battle against two main god-level opponents with such resources is more a testament to her astonishing combat talent.
Unfortunately, even the greatest talent has its limitations.
Under the dark sky, Smoke Mirror spreads his arms, looking arrogant and domineering.
"Peacock's daughter, I have already shattered 20% of your divine power, and it will take many days of rest to rebuild it. Moreover, your condition will only worsen, as your blemishes are already so pronounced."
He had transformed into his battle form, a three-meter-tall miniature giant with a well-proportioned physique, skin as black as night, yellow runes painted on his face, and bird feathers adorning his head. His entire body was crackling with electricity, unleashing lightning strikes and the fires of the dark sun.
"Before you lose, is there anything else you want to say?"
The night wind carried it along, and it asked smugly.
"With my current strength, I really can't beat you."
Kallen summoned countless giant trees and flowers that rose from the ground to fight against the dark battle form that the Smoke Mirror had transformed into.
"But I will not be defeated today. Even now, I have no feeling whatsoever that I will lose. Smoke Mirror, don't be too happy. I am not fighting you alone."
Upon hearing this, Smoke Mirror burst into laughter: "Not just one person? You think I wouldn't know about Hayden secretly messing with my artificial underworld? He can't pull off a single thing! After I kill and eat you, I'll go and slaughter him too, so your whole family will be neatly arranged inside my belly!"
Karen didn't bother to reply. However, she still felt a little strange: although Karen had never intended to rely on her father, wasn't Smoke Mirror really afraid of the Peacock King causing trouble for her? Could it be that while they were having a good time inside, something terrible was indeed happening outside the South American barrier?
Unfortunately, now is not the time to be distracted by this. Karen focused her mind, gathered her strength, and prepared to delay Smoke Mirror for another two hundred rounds to see if Hayden would pull off any surprises. Smoke Mirror, on the other hand, was certain that Hayden had no such ability.
So none of them expected what would happen next.
The god-level Micket that the Smoke Mirror conjured had been flanking and assisting, circling around, and had silently floated behind the Smoke Mirror at some point. In the blink of an eye, just as the Smoke Mirror was about to launch her next attack on Kallen, "that" Micket suddenly rushed forward and, with her standard god-level power, locked the Smoke Mirror in place from behind!
"What!?"
For a moment, both Karen and Smoke Mirror were taken aback.
Karen was alright; when she saw something strange happening, her first thought was of Hayden: "Hayden, are you the one doing this?"
Smoke Mirror knew this was impossible: "Impossible! Even if you hacked into the artificial underworld, Hayden couldn't possibly control my daughter, whom he created from within, so freely! Who are you!?"
"Of course it's me. Smoke Mirror, are you dumbfounded too?"
"That Mickett said coldly. Not only did she speak, but she also grabbed the smoke goggles from behind, and a white flame erupted from her body. Dazzling light and blazing fire burst forth from her, engulfing the smoke goggles as well."
Smoke Mirror, wincing in pain, immediately realized what was happening: "You actually set the artificial underworld on fire?! Are you crazy?! My dear daughter, it's one thing if you hate me and want revenge, but why did you have to burn the entire underworld down with yourself?! Don't be stupid!"
"You're the one who's utterly stupid! You really think I burned down the entire Underworld to get revenge on you? You don't deserve it!"
Micket responded with a vicious taunt. But at the same time, as the soul fire burned together in both realms, and as the undead that composed her burned away, her power weakened, and her spirit gradually withered. Her divine power began to drop rapidly from 1 part of the power of a supreme god to 0.9 parts, and it continued to decline.
This shows that Mickett is real, without any pretense—and is disappearing.
No wonder Smoke Mirror never expected this to happen, no wonder even He was a little flustered: "Do you hate me for controlling you? My dear daughter, I'll let you go right now, and I promise I'll never control you again. Don't help outsiders against yourself!"
At this point, Smoke Mirror seemed to realize something: "You mean you want to burn us so that little clone can live? No way!? She doesn't deserve it at all! Are you stupid too!?"
“You’re absolutely right. That stupid, ignorant brat doesn’t deserve to live. I’m the one who should live! I’m the one Hayden should care about!”
Mickett, still gripping the smoke goggles tightly, sneered.
"But then again—I seem to be a bit of a fool."
"So let's die together today, Smoke Mirror!"
364: Night has turned to dawn
To be honest, Karen's situation is actually quite awkward at this moment.