Chapter 312: Huge Harvest! Three Million Seven Hundred Thousand Resurrection Imprints! Seal

Chapter 312: A Colossal Harvest! Three Million Seven Hundred Thousand Resurrection Marks! Marquis-Level Resurrection! Cosmic Crystals!

Qin Feng stood amidst the desolate battlefield, his consciousness submerged within his subspace storage unit.

Beneath a pale red firmament, the earth lay ravaged, plowed repeatedly by forces of unimaginable terror; once-verdant mountains, forests, and marshes were now transformed into glass-like crystals shimmering with residual psionic energy and bottomless, jagged chasms.

The air was thick with an impenetrable stench of blood, scorched earth, and the nauseating, discordant aura of countless alien races mingled together.

Yet, this silence and ruin, which would drive any normal living being to madness, felt to Qin Feng like a sanctity of profound tranquility.

He closed his eyes, standing straight as a spear, the tip of his Star-Devouring Lance pointing obliquely at the ground. A single drop of dark-gold divine blood slid slowly down the blade, eventually striking the cracked earth with a faint hiss, instantly annihilating the surrounding meters of ground into a stream of fundamental particles.

His physical body, tempered by the Nine-Colored Divine Thunder and having achieved the initial stage of the Path of Extremity, had entered a state of unprecedented harmony and self-sufficiency.

The "Extremity Array" composed of trillions of cells pulsed with an arcane rhythm, echoing the "Primal Furnace Array" within his core; with every breath and every heartbeat, he inhaled and exhaled the most primordial psionic energy of the universe, mending the minor exhaustion brought on by the cataclysmic battle.

His spirit and soul had long since transcended the barriers of physical dimensions, entering his own vast, boundless inner universe—the subspace storage unit.

It was more stable and far more private than any storage ring.

The subspace storage unit, pioneered by the Emperor for the use of the Human Race, ensured that even if a human perished, the contents would remain inaccessible to the myriad races.

Conversely, the myriad races relied on storage rings, which were easily looted by the likes of Qin Feng after they were slain.

At this moment, this once-empty inner universe was occupied by a "galaxy" of extreme brilliance.

It was light.

It was the psionic radiance naturally emitted by millions of Domain Lord-level treasures, now stripped of their original owners' spiritual imprints.

They converged to form a vast, kaleidoscopic ocean of light.

Red, orange, yellow, green, cyan, blue, violet... each color represented one or several distinct psionic systems, intertwined yet clearly defined, maintaining a delicate balance under the command of Qin Feng’s will.

As Qin Feng’s consciousness fully submerged, this "galaxy" of spoils instantly boiled.

A torrential flood of information, like a bursting cosmic storm, surged into his mind.

Every treasure carried fragments of memory from its previous owner, and even the owner before that;

Every weapon recorded the enemies it had slain and the blood-soaked battles it had endured;

When this torrent of information touched Qin Feng’s soul, it was as if it had collided with an invisible, boundless, bottomless black hole.

His soul was of the legendary "Pure Black" quality.

His foundation was the unprecedented "Primal Singularity."

The combination of the two granted him an incredible, near-divine capacity for information processing.

The flood of data, capable of drowning a star sea, did not cause the slightest ripple the moment it poured into his consciousness.

They were instantly classified, organized, and indexed by a supreme, absolute order.

Just as billions of raging dragons were tamed into docile servants the moment they entered the temple, they were precisely deposited into their respective cages.

Qin Feng’s "thought" did not even fluctuate; all processing was completed automatically at the instinctual level of his soul.

His consciousness, like a monarch surveying his domain, began to audit the immeasurable war wealth he had acquired in this mythic battle of "one man against an army," with absolute calm and rationality.

...

First, an estimation of the total value.

Qin Feng’s consciousness acted like an invisible net, instantly covering the entire "galaxy."

What constituted this "galaxy" was not merely the Domain Lord treasures that formed its core, but the massive wealth hidden within the storage spaces of every treasure and every corpse.

God-gold, rare treasures, psionic crystals, secret manuals, special materials, potions, pills, array disks, runes... the variety and sheer quantity were staggering.

In his mind, images of countless items flashed by, their fair market value within the Human Empire’s system marked and tallied one by one.

"Star Iron Mother, a fist-sized piece, worth approximately three B-grade contribution points..."

"Void Secret Silver, three standard units, worth approximately twenty B-grade contribution points..."

"Three hundred and seventy-two 'Death Soul Flowers' containing a trace of the Law of Annihilation, total value approximately nine B-grade contribution points..."

"A rubbing of the Crystal Race’s core heritage manual, 'Prismatic Secret Art,' worth approximately fifteen hundred B-grade contribution points..."

"The entire fortune of the Stone Race’s divine-prodigy 'Shi Lan,' centered on a 'Great Earth Source Stone' of extremely high quality; this single item alone is likely worth no less than one hundred B-grade points..."

...

Supported by the Primal Singularity, the complex data stream was integrated and calculated with efficiency exceeding the speed of light.

After only a few breaths, a preliminary yet shocking figure clearly emerged in Qin Feng’s mind.

"All resources, excluding those that cannot be directly converted or are priceless rarities, have a combined value of conventional resources between three thousand and five thousand B-grade contribution points."

Qin Feng’s heart remained as still as an ancient well, but a profound light quietly ignited deep within his soul.

He had a clear understanding of the Human Empire’s contribution point system.

One B-grade point was equal to one billion contribution points.

One C-grade point was equal to one thousand B-grade points, and so on.

"3 to 5 C-grade contribution points..."

He calculated silently, "This wealth has far exceeded the limits of what an ordinary Domain Lord could imagine.

In the official trading houses of the Human Empire, it is enough to exchange for some Marquis-level resources."

For example, a standard primary Marquis-level treasure without any special attribute bonuses;

Or, the cultivation resources required to support a primary Marquis-level powerhouse for a short period of seclusion.

For Qin Feng, who had just stepped into the Domain Lord level and initiated the "Path of Extremity"—a bottomless pit destined to consume massive resources—this was nothing short of a shot of adrenaline.

"Every step of growth on the Path of Extremity requires the smelting of vast resources.

The evolution of the flesh, the upgrading of arrays, the nourishment of the soul... each is a gold-devouring beast.

With this startup capital, I can finally stabilize my realm."

This thought gave him greater confidence and conviction for his future path of cultivation.

Having estimated the total value, Qin Feng’s consciousness began to turn toward the classification and examination of the treasures that formed the bulk of his spoils.

His spiritual power swept across the entire galaxy of treasures like a tide, at once gentle and domineering.

First, the most numerous group—primary Domain Lord treasures.

Over thirteen hundred pieces.

This was a terrifying number.

Each one represented a Domain Lord-level warrior who could be considered elite within the Alliance of Myriad Races. Now, they were all in Qin Feng’s possession.

These treasures shone with different brilliance and took myriad forms.

There were giant war blades over a hundred meters long, burning with black demonic flames; silver orbs no larger than a palm that seemed to contain a rotating star field;

A primitive, heavy bronze tripod inscribed with the totems of ten thousand beasts; a crystal-clear glazed mirror capable of reflecting the flaws in a human heart...

Blades, spears, swords, halberds, axes, poleaxes, hooks, forks...

Bells, tripods, towers, furnaces, mirrors, seals, beads, wheels...

It contained nearly every mainstream and obscure form of secret treasure in the universe, a veritable miniature museum of artifacts.

Under the shroud of Qin Feng’s "pure black quality" spiritual ocean—vast and deep as an abyss—these masterless treasures, which should have been brimming with violence and defiance, now behaved like a school of docile fish.

Their inner radiance dimmed, trembling in instinctive terror, they dared not make a single move, suspended in silence as they awaited Qin Feng’s judgment.

Qin Feng’s consciousness swept over them, lingering for only a moment.

The quality of these treasures no longer caught his eye.

His attention shifted to a higher tier of existence.

Over one hundred and seventy intermediate domain-lord treasures.

Compared to the vast "school of fish," these artifacts were the sharks and whales of the deep.

Each radiated spiritual energy far more potent and refined than the primary treasures, with runes etched upon their surfaces that were clearer and more profound.

Their original owners were clearly the captains of elite squads from the myriad races—true paragons of power.

Their quality, craftsmanship, and inherent might were far beyond common goods.

Qin Feng could even sense a faint, lingering aura of a Marquis-level powerhouse on a few of them.

It was likely that their masters had been fortunate enough to receive guidance or even a blessing from a Marquis, leaving an indelible mark upon the artifacts.

But now, before Qin Feng’s will, these marks were like candles in a gale, easily wiped away.

Beyond these lay the sixteen most dazzling existences.

Advanced domain-lord treasures.

These sixteen artifacts floated silently in the core of the treasure galaxy, maintaining their indomitable will and powerful energy fluctuations even under the pressure of Qin Feng’s spirit.

They were the personal weapons and core treasures of the six God-Forbidden prodigies and ten other peak powerhouses whose strength was second only to them.

Qin Feng’s consciousness focused on a few in particular.

There was a stone blade carved from gray-brown rock, thick and heavy, exuding a primitive and savage beauty.

Now, it was covered in spiderweb-like cracks, as if a single touch would shatter it. A shocking notch marred its edge.

This was "Panshan," the blade of the Stone Race’s God-Forbidden prodigy, Shi Lan.

Qin Feng could clearly perceive the essence of the "Laws of Earth" and "Laws of Gravity" contained within.

Even on the verge of collapse, its residual energy was staggering, emitting an aura that would make ordinary primary domain lords tremble and avert their gaze.

Next to Panshan lay a pair of Void Blades, thin as cicada wings and nearly transparent.

They floated in silence, as if fused with the surrounding space; had it not been for Qin Feng’s extraordinary soul perception, he would have barely detected their presence.

The blades bore faint, almost invisible fissures—permanent scars left behind when the fabric of space had been forcibly torn by a greater power.

These were Wuhen’s "Interspace Twin Blades," carrying the lingering, razor-sharp essence of the "Space Cutting" law.

Beyond these were Ba Xia’s "Mystic Shell Heavy Shield," seemingly forged from the shell of a dragon-turtle, now pierced by a terrifying, clean-through spear hole; and Jue’s "Judgment Spear," once shimmering with holy majesty, now dim and lusterless...

These six divine weapons, once representing the pinnacle of domain-lord combat power, were now nothing more than broken spoils of war, silently testifying to the terror and might of their new master.

Finally, Qin Feng’s spiritual power swept toward the summit of this galaxy of wealth.

There, the peak domain-lord treasures should have resided.

Yet, the sight that met his "eyes" left him slightly surprised.

There were only six intact peak domain-lord treasures, and without exception, they were severely damaged—far worse than the weapons of the six God-Forbidden prodigies.

The rest could no longer be called "treasures."

They were a "cloud of dust" composed of countless fragments shimmering with various hues.

These fragments, some no larger than a fingernail, others finer than dust, were the remnants of the highest-quality peak treasures, shattered and pulverized after enduring Qin Feng’s ultimate, destructive spear strike, "Inch-Light," which had carried the force of ten thousand times the speed of light.

Seeing this, even with Qin Feng’s current state of mind, a thought could not help but surface.

"What a pity. Every peak domain-lord treasure is worth a fortune, essential nourishment for forging the foundation of a Marquis. To have destroyed so many..."

It was an instinctive regret for the loss of something precious.

Yet, the thought flickered for only an instant before he extinguished it, replacing it with a more domineering will.

"However... it matters not."

The thought resonated deep within his soul.

Almost simultaneously, inside Qin Feng’s body—forged like divine gold and serving as the core of the "Limit Array"—the top-tier domain-lord treasure "Tianyan Armament," which had long since fused with his flesh and resonated with his soul, emitted a faint tremor that only he could hear.

Hum—

A sense of greed and longing flowed through the array pathways spanning his body, transmitting itself with absolute clarity to his soul.

It was the "desire" of the Tianyan Armament.

Having merged into the Limit Array to become the power core and control hub of this unprecedented "Limit Body," the essence of the Tianyan Armament had undergone a radical transformation.

It was no longer a mere external weapon, but a true part of Qin Feng’s own body.

The longing it transmitted now stemmed from the supreme path Qin Feng had just established—a path without predecessor, and destined to have no successor: the Path of the Limit!

"With the Tianyan Armament fused into the array, the Limit Body gains the property of 'devouring.'

To ordinary martial artists, these broken peak treasures are waste, a cause for regret.

But to me..."

"Intact treasures are nourishment, and these fragments, containing the purest spiritual energy and essence of divine gold... are also prime nourishment! Perhaps even easier to absorb!"

"The Path of the Limit is to break all shackles and transcend all conventions! Its core tenet is to smelt all things and make them one's own! To devour all, to refine all!"

"Be it intact treasures or shattered fragments; be it pure spiritual crystals or chaotic flesh and blood; be it sacred scriptures or evil curses...

On this path, nothing has a distinction of good or evil, high or low, complete or broken!

Their only attribute is whether they can become a stepping stone toward the 'Limit,' whether they can become the foundation for the growth of my 'Limit Body'!"

Qin Feng’s will surged and roared.

He "watched" the cloud of dust made of treasure fragments, his eyes devoid of regret, replaced by a burning hunger, like a gluttonous beast beholding an ultimate feast.

"Within these fragments lie the law imprints realized by the powerhouses of the myriad races, and rare divine gold formed at the dawn of the universe.

As I devour and refine them one by one, my Limit Array will be completed, my 'Primal Furnace' will decipher more mysteries, and my flesh, my 'Limit Body,' will grow and strengthen with every act of consumption and evolution!"

In his mind, a magnificent vision of the future slowly unfolded.

"One day, as I devour more and more treasures of higher and higher rank, my very body will become a 'living Dao artifact' that transcends all treasures!

Until... I reach the end of that path, the pinnacle of the Divine Dao!"

At this thought, an indescribable sense of exhilaration and heroism erupted from the deepest part of his soul like a volcanic eruption, flooding his limbs and bones, stirring his very spirit.

This was the supreme joy of pioneering one's own path!

Fragments of secret treasures, rare alloys, severed corpses, and shattered formation disks; all these things can be devoured to further elevate my ultimate physique.

Furthermore, I can master these secret arts.

Qin Feng slowly opened his eyes.

Two beams of nine-colored divine light, as tangible as reality, flashed deep within his pupils, scorching two pitch-black, slow-to-heal fissures into the void before him.

He lifted his head and scanned the vast, deathly silent battlefield once more.

...

His deep, dark eyes reflected the scarlet sky and the fractured earth.

As he gazed out, at the edge of the battlefield, over ten thousand human soldiers stood in silence, forming a solemn and hushed phalanx. They wore the standard-issue power armor of the Human Empire, much of it still marred by gruesome scars and dried blood.

In this moment, not a trace of their former despair, numbness, or deathly apathy remained in their eyes.

In its place burned a fanatical, ecstatic flame, one bordering on religious devotion!

That fire blazed in every pupil, converging into an ocean of conviction.

Their gazes were locked firmly upon the solitary, towering figure in the center of the battlefield, as if he were the only light, the only totem of faith in their lives.

The silence was shattered.

"War Marshal... is invincible!!"

It was unclear who first exhausted every ounce of strength to scream this title with a hoarse throat.

The sound was like a spark, instantly igniting the entire plain.

"War Marshal!!"

"War Marshal!!"

"War Marshal is invincible!!"

Cries like the roar of mountains and the surge of seas erupted from the chests of ten thousand battle-hardened soldiers, coalescing into a torrent of rolling thunder that buffeted the firmament of the Dead Meteor Island, causing the broken earth itself to tremble.

They were no longer chanting Qin Feng’s name.

They were chanting "War Marshal."

It was the most humble, yet most exalted honorific in the military.

Qin Feng was worthy of it.

Amidst this thunderous cheering, a streak of light shot forth from the front of the formation, tearing through the sky and landing precisely before Qin Feng, revealing a figure trembling with agitation.

It was Cang Lang.

At this moment, Cang Lang—a veteran who had campaigned on Dead Meteor Island for tens of thousands of years, long accustomed to life and death, his resolve as firm as stone—was shaking.

This was not from fear or exhaustion, but from an extreme, incomprehensible surge of shock and awe.

His voice was hoarse with over-excitement, thick with disbelief, as if he were still dreaming: "War Marshal... you truly did it! You alone swept away the million-strong army of the myriad races!"

He spoke word by word, each syllable a struggle.

Because he had witnessed this mythical scene with his own eyes.

From Qin Feng’s emergence from seclusion, to the single shot that blasted the "Death Passage," to the slaughter of the six Great Divine Prohibitions within five breaths, and finally the annihilation of the hundreds of thousands of remnants... the entire process was too fast to process, yet too profound to ever forget.

Watching the shock contort Cang Lang’s face, Qin Feng merely smiled faintly.

To him, this was simply the inevitable result of his strength reaching its ultimate zenith.

He reached out and patted Cang Lang’s sturdy shoulder armor, producing a dull, resonant thud.

"Our heroes should not remain buried in silence."

The simple sentence struck like lightning, instantly piercing through the chaos in Cang Lang’s mind.

Cang Lang jolted awake, his bloodshot eyes suddenly erupting with a brilliant, radiant light called "hope"!

"Yes! The Resurrection Marks!"

He gasped, his voice cracking, "War Marshal, by the supreme laws of the Dead Meteor Land, you are the supreme commander of all surviving humans on the outer island, possessing the authority to mobilize all Resurrection Marks!"

Cang Lang’s breathing grew ragged, his face flushed with a near-sacred anticipation.

"We can... we can resurrect Marquis Qingtian and the others from the inner island! And Marquis Liewu, Marquis Jian, Marquis Bingxin... all the fallen heroes!!"

Qin Feng nodded, his expression remaining calm, as if he were discussing a triviality.

"Very well."

He spoke: "The battles of the Marquis-level powerhouses are fought over cosmic crystals on the inner island.

Their battlefield is no longer a level we can participate in.

The only thing we can do now is provide them with enough Resurrection Marks so they may fight without any worries."

He paused, seemingly calculating the figure he had tallied while counting the spoils of war, and asked Cang Lang with a hint of uncertainty:

"I have about three million seven hundred thousand Resurrection Marks here. I wonder... is that enough for them?"

The words fell.

The entire world seemed to hit a pause button in that instant.

"Three... three million... seven hundred thousand...?"

Cang Lang’s mouth opened inch by inch, slowly, until it was wide enough to fit an egg.

His brain, upon hearing that number, suffered a total system crash, plunging into absolute, pure emptiness.

Boom!

He felt as if a nine-colored divine thunder had descended from the heavens, striking his crown with pinpoint precision, shattering his thoughts, his cognition, his common sense, and even his soul into the most insignificant dust.

Silence.

A deathly, absolute silence.

"Three... three million?!!"

"No! Three million seven hundred thousand?!!"

The number roared and echoed in his mind, each syllable like a ruthless giant hammer slamming into his heart.

He thought of himself.

He thought of his thirty-seven thousand years on this Dead Meteor Island.

In those thirty-seven thousand years, as a veteran, he had spent most of his time fighting in the bloodiest, most high-pressure front lines.

He had survived more near-death situations than he could count.

He had watched countless comrades fall beside him, eventually becoming the commander-in-chief himself.

He had exhausted every ounce of strength, risked everything, yet in all those long years, the total number of Resurrection Marks he had ever accumulated had never once exceeded ten thousand!

Ten thousand was already an astronomical figure.

Yet now...

Qin Feng, before him, had spoken that number with the casual tone of someone asking, "How is the weather today?"

Three million seven hundred thousand.

Three hundred and seventy times the sum of all his previous merits!

And how long did it take Qin Feng to achieve this feat?

From the moment he stepped onto the Island of Dead Meteors until this very second, three thousand years, by the most generous count!

What a terrifying, absurd, and utterly despairing chasm this was!

Watching Cang Lang frozen in place, his worldview undergoing a violent reconstruction, Qin Feng said no more.

His consciousness sank deep within, yet this time, it did not enter the subspace storage unit; instead, it linked with the omnipresent primordial rules that blanketed the entire Island of Dead Meteors.

Hum—

An invisible interface, composed entirely of runic laws, slowly unfurled within his mind.

This was the command authority interface belonging to the battlefield commander of the Island of Dead Meteors.

At the very top of the interface, he saw a striking, rapidly fluctuating number: 3,712,544.

This was the total number of resurrection marks currently in his possession.

Beneath the digits lay a long, dimly glowing list.

It was the register of soul imprints for every human who had fallen since the war began.

Qin Feng’s gaze skipped over the dense rows of ordinary soldiers and landed at the very top of the list.

There, names that once thundered like drums, representing the backbone of the human race, rested in silent rows.

[Marquis Qingtian]

[Marquis Liewu]

[Marquis Jian]

[Marquis Bingxin]

...

Each familiar name was etched into his soul as if carved by a blade.

He remembered clearly that only a short time ago, he had witnessed these heroes in the "City of Unyielding" within the inner island. Facing enemies that outnumbered them many times over, they had exhausted their final resurrection marks and chosen to ignite their Dao seals, launching that tragic, desperate, and irreversible charge.

Their fall turned into a sky full of blood rain, a grief shared by heaven and earth.

It was the unyielding war song of the human race, and a blood debt carved into the bone.

Qin Feng counted; there were one hundred and twenty names of Marquis-level powerhouses on the list.

He did not hesitate, nor did he waver.

His intent transformed into a supreme command, thundering through the interface of rules.

"Resurrect... all the fallen heroic souls of my human race!"

The moment the command was issued, the massive number representing three million seven hundred thousand at the top of the interface began to burn, flicker, and plummet at a terrifying, unprecedented speed!

Simultaneously, across the blood-stained lands of the outer island, brilliant golden pillars of light—invisible to the naked eye but teeming with life and law—erupted from the void and surged toward the heavens!

These pillars ignored the chaotic, violent spirit-energy storms of the Island of Dead Meteors, ignored the impenetrable spatial barriers, and even tore through the natural spatial isolation layer between the inner and outer islands!

Their target was aimed with pinpoint precision at the depths of the inner island, at that city now reduced to ruins... the "City of Unyielding"!

Heroes shall return!

Blood debts shall be paid in blood!

...

At the same time.

Island of Dead Meteors, inner island, ruins of the City of Unyielding.

This place was now a complete wasteland.

The magnificent fortress that once served as the core of the human inner island, a symbol of the unyielding human will, was now nothing but broken walls and shattered pillars.

Towering walls had collapsed in sections, creating bottomless craters.

The foundations of the super-defensive arrays, once used to repel the frenzied assaults of the myriad races, lay exposed, their countless profound runes stripped of light, dim as dead stars.

The smoke of war had not yet dissipated, and the air remained thick with the destructive aura left by colliding laws.

Above these ruins, over three hundred Marquis-level powerhouses from the myriad races were scattered in small groups, like greedy hyenas, savoring the fruits of a hard-won victory.

Among them were the Stone Race, ten thousand meters tall and forged from indestructible "Soul-Martial Rock"; the Spirit Race, light-bodied and wreathed in pure psychic fluctuations, as if incorporeal; and the Insect Race Marquises, covered in hideous bone armor, their mandibles dripping with corrosive fluid...

At this moment, they were enthusiastically using various violent means to crack the final defensive arrays left behind by the fallen human Marquises.

These barriers protected the spoils they had accumulated in the city—[Cosmic Crystals].

Boom!

A Crystal Race Marquis, his entire body formed of brilliant crystal, threw a punch. Pure light energy erupted, shattering the light screen before him.

As the barrier broke, a Cosmic Crystal the size of a human head, with real star rivers swirling within, was revealed, radiating a Dao aura that intoxicated every Marquis present.

"Hahahaha—"

The Crystal Marquis snatched the Cosmic Crystal, letting out a hearty, triumphant laugh: "These humans are truly the most industrious worker ants in the universe!

To think they accumulated so many Cosmic Crystals for us in such a short time!"

Beside him, a Shadow Race Marquis, shrouded in darkness with only a pair of scarlet eyes visible, licked his parched lips and spoke in a voice as raspy as grinding metal: "It is fortunate... fortunate that we won this battle for the inner island!

The stubbornness of the humans is beyond imagination.

Had the absolute military force on the outer island not crushed their last hope and caused their collapse, we would have had to pay at least three times the price to take this 'City of Unyielding'!"

"In the end, it is because the human style of conduct is too overbearing. They fancy themselves the protagonists of the universe, tolerating no dissent and making enemies everywhere, which is why they have fallen to this state today."

A Feather Race Marquis with gorgeous wings on his back snorted, his tone filled with disdain. "If not for this, how would we myriad races have set aside our mutual hatreds to join forces against them here?"

As he spoke, he gracefully waved his wings, conjuring a wind blade to slice through another barrier and pocket the Cosmic Crystal inside.

"They thought that with the seemingly solid defenses of the outer island, they could stall our million-strong army and buy time for the inner island?

By now, those humans on the outer island must have been slaughtered to the last! What utter fools!"

Similar conversations rippled across the ruins among the reveling Marquises of the myriad races.

"However, everyone, we must remain cautious.

The humans have suffered such a massive loss this time; given their nature, they will never let this rest.

When the entrance to the Island of Dead Meteors opens next time, they will likely dispatch an unprecedentedly terrifying army to seek revenge."

A Demon Race Marquis with two horns on his head and a steady aura warned in a low voice.

"Hmm, that is a reasonable point."

Another Marquis of the Machine Race, whose body flowed like liquid metal, chimed in, "The humans are best at strategic withdrawal, followed by gathering a force several or even ten times superior to launch a thunderous counterattack.

They can endure what others cannot, and they are ruthless enough to do it.

Perhaps these hundred-plus fallen Marquises were merely pawns discarded by their high command, sacrificed solely to trade for greater strategic gains on other, more important battlefields."

Let us not dwell on such distant matters; our immediate priority is to gather every cosmic crystal scattered here.

A hot-headed Marquis of the Star-Beast race grumbled in a deep, gravelly voice, "We shall surely face a brutal battle when we depart the Isle of Dead Stars."

"That is not necessarily true."

The well-informed Marquis of the Machine race, a flicker of data streaming through his eyes, replied, "According to the latest intelligence from my kin, the ultimate battlefield between the Human race and our myriad clans, the Land Forsaken by God, has fully opened. All supreme beings above the Saint rank are now bound by the laws governing that realm.

Furthermore, the Mountain of Eternal Life—that supreme opportunity concerning the path of every Monarch—is soon to manifest.

At this moment, the Monarchs of all races are making their final preparations for that event.

Thus, when the exit of the Isle of Dead Stars opens, there may not be many top-tier experts waiting for us outside."

"Oh? Is this the truth?"

"If so, then this is truly magnificent news!"

"Hahahaha, it seems we shall leave here with our coffers overflowing!"

The news brought by the Machine Marquis caused the lingering tension to vanish into thin air.

The Marquises of the myriad clans, while gleefully dismantling the final restrictions, indulged in visions of their glorious departure, the atmosphere turning light and jubilant to the extreme.

A few cautious Marquises instinctively checked the remaining resurrection counts of their coalition.

One thousand three hundred and fifty-two.

Seeing this figure, they set their hearts completely at ease.

This number was more than sufficient to handle any unforeseen contingency.

In their eyes, the Human race was already thoroughly defeated.

Even if—even if those one hundred and twenty Human Marquises managed to exhaust their own resurrection marks and return to life, what of it?

With an absolute numerical advantage of three hundred and seventy against one hundred and twenty, and the trump card of over thirteen hundred resurrection chances, it would merely be... a matter of killing them once more.

Victory was already within their grasp.