Chapter 408: Executing Ten Thousand Races, Venerable Divine Might!

Chapter 408: Slaughtering the Myriad Races, the Majesty of the Venerable!

The God-Chosen Battlefield, on the outskirts of Zone S-09.

The sky had been completely eclipsed by the radiance of diverse energies.

To the east, the "Sanctum Fleet" of the Protoss; hundreds of golden floating warships flickered in the clouds, their blinding holy light turning the earth as bright as day.

To the west, the Demon legions brought billowing black smoke, giants composed of hellfire roared within the haze, and the stench of sulfur overwhelmed the scent of the soil.

To the south, the steel torrent of the Machine race was undergoing modular reorganization, as mobile artillery batteries locked onto that seemingly crumbling human stronghold.

To the north, a mixed army of Titans, Beast-kin, Crystal beings, and countless vassal races gathered.

One hundred and twenty-eight races.

Over five hundred thousand elite warriors.

This was a military operation capable of obliterating a medium-sized galaxy.

And their target was singular:

That solitary Level 2 human stronghold, and the man sitting at its gate, sipping tea.

"This is too absurd... is a 'Star-Exterminator' level lineup really necessary for one human?"

"Even a lion uses its full strength to hunt a rabbit. That human is too bizarre; we must erase him with absolute firepower within the bounds of the rules."

"Hmph, I think he’s scared witless. To think he’s still sitting there, motionless?"

"One minute left on the countdown. After that, no tactics needed—just full-salvo fire. Vaporize him and that stronghold together."

In the livestream, countless humans covered their mouths, too terrified to even look at the screen.

"How can he defend against this? This isn't even the same order of magnitude!"

"Forty-eight hours... to hold out under this kind of firepower for two days and two nights? Even a god couldn't do it!"

"Venerable Qin... run! As long as the green hills remain, there will be firewood to burn!"

"He can't run. This is a war mission; leaving the stronghold counts as failure, and all of humanity will be erased."

On the screen.

Qin Feng slowly set down his teacup.

He glanced at the system countdown.

[Time until first wave of attack: 00 minutes 30 seconds.]

"Forty-eight hours."

Qin Feng shook his head, seemingly dissatisfied with the time limit.

"What a waste of time."

He stood up and brushed off his hem.

"Since the mission requirement is 'guard,' then as long as I extinguish every source of attack, the guarding is successful, right?"

He looked up, his gaze sweeping across the gods and demons filling the sky.

There was no killing intent in his eyes, only the calm of someone looking at trash waiting to be cleared.

"I'll give you one chance."

Qin Feng’s voice was not loud, but bolstered by the Primordial Dao Body, it rang out clearly in every corner for a thousand miles.

"Leave now, and you may live."

Dead silence.

Then, an explosive roar of laughter.

The leader of the Protoss, a six-winged Seraph, sneered from on high: "Arrogant heretic. Under the holy light of our Lord, be reduced to ashes! Attack!"

[Countdown reaches zero.]

[War begins.]

BOOM!!!

At the Seraph’s command, the heavens changed color.

The Protoss "Judgment Light," the Demon "Hellfire Burst," the Machine "Antimatter Annihilation Shell"... tens of thousands of destructive attacks converged into a multicolored torrent, crashing toward the human stronghold with the force to destroy everything.

The intensity of this energy caused the very spatial structure of the God-Chosen Battlefield to groan in agony.

In the livestream, everyone’s heart leaped into their throats.

Yet.

Qin Feng did not move.

He merely tapped his foot lightly.

"Rule Borrowing: Red Flame Copper Mine."

"Gravity Multiplier: Adjusted."

"Set value: One hundred million times."

Wum—!

A khaki-colored halo radiated from Qin Feng, instantly expanding to a ten-kilometer radius around the stronghold.

This was no ordinary gravity spell.

Using his understanding of the Law of Earth as a "Cosmic Venerable," Qin Feng had forcibly overdrawn all the spiritual energy of the Red Flame Copper Mine to construct a "Pseudo-Black Hole Field."

The next second, the torrent of energy capable of destroying stars underwent a bizarre curvature the moment it entered that ten-kilometer radius.

Light was captured by gravity.

Flames were snuffed out by gravity.

Antimatter shells were crushed into basic particles.

Those attacks filling the sky were pressed into the ground by an invisible, massive hand.

Rumble—

The earth shook violently. All the energy attacks slammed into the ground, creating a bottomless crater, yet the human stronghold remained unscathed, not even a ripple appearing on its shield.

"What?!"

In the sky, the commanders of the one hundred and twenty-eight races gasped in unison.

"What level of defense is this? Even the Titan's 'Absolute Barrier' couldn't block a concentrated fire like that!"

"Courtesy demands a return."

Qin Feng’s indifferent voice echoed.

He extended his right hand toward the crater filled with violent, swirling energy and made a grasping motion in the void.

"Rise."

The mass of mixed energy, suppressed and kneaded together by gravity, was forcibly lifted by him.

This sphere of energy contained divine power, hellfire, and antimatter—elements that should have repelled and detonated one another, yet under Qin Feng’s absolute command, they maintained a terrifying equilibrium.

"Returning this to you."

Qin Feng flicked his finger.

Whoosh—

The energy sphere transformed into a streak of light, not aimed at any single faction, but hurtling toward the very heart of the Allied Myriad Races.

"Detonate."

In that instant, the Chosen Battlefield lost all sound.

There was only light.

An extreme, blinding white.

A mushroom cloud, spanning over fifty kilometers in diameter, surged into the heavens.

Tens of thousands of vanguard troops at the epicenter were vaporized instantly, unable to even scream.

The shockwave swept across the horizon, scattering the majestic warships in the sky like withered leaves caught in a hurricane.

"..."

"..."

"Am I dreaming? Was that thrown by God Qin?"

"He caught their ultimate attack, rolled it into a ball, and threw it back?"

"This is what they call: returning the favor with their own methods! And with a super-sized multiplier!"

"This is impossible! It’s not scientific! It’s not magical!"

"What happened to that gravity field? The data overflowed! Is this still a battlefield for those below the Venerable rank?"

"Retreat! We cannot withstand this! This human is a monster!"

With one strike, a third of the field was cleared.

The once-aggressive Allied Myriad Races were now in total disarray.

Fear spread through the coalition like a plague.

"Do not panic!"

The Seraphim Commander of the Protoss forced himself to steady his stance, his holy sword burning with raging flames. "He merely borrowed the terrain! He cannot release an attack of that magnitude a second time! Everyone, disperse your formations and engage in close-quarters combat!"

"Correct!" the Demon General roared. "The human body is fragile; once we get close, he is as good as dead!"

The remaining dozen top-tier powerhouses exchanged glances, reaching a silent consensus.

Since long-range bombardment would only be "deflected back," they would use absolute martial technique and melee prowess to grind him into dust!

Swish, swish, swish!

A dozen figures tore through the sky, descending upon Qin Feng from every angle.

The Seraphim’s holy sword thrust directly at his brow.

The Titan’s warhammer crashed toward his crown.

The Shadow Assassin’s poisoned blade swept for his throat.

It was a flawless death trap, sealing every path of retreat.

Qin Feng remained standing where he was.

He watched these "powerhouses" rushing toward him, the disappointment in his eyes deepening.

"Is this what you call a Chosen One?"

"Too slow. Too weak. Too crude."

At the very moment their attacks were about to land.

Qin Feng moved.

Or rather, the flow of time around him seemed to shift.

Under the observation of the Eye of Guixu, these attacks, which appeared fast as lightning, moved like snails crawling in his vision.

He merely extended two fingers.

Killing move: Twofold Void Intercept.

Ding.

A crisp sound of impact rang out.

Qin Feng’s two fingers had clamped onto the tip of the Seraphim’s holy sword.

The blade, capable of slicing through alloy, remained motionless between his digits.

"You..." The Seraphim’s pupils dilated in shock.

Crack.

Qin Feng’s fingers twitched. The holy sword shattered.

The fragments, wrapped in Qin Feng’s internal energy, transformed into countless streaks of light, flying back at ten times the speed they had arrived.

Puff! Puff! Puff!

A series of blades piercing flesh echoed through the air.

The dozen top-tier powerhouses froze in place.

Each of their foreheads was pierced by a shard of the holy sword.

The Seraphim stared blankly at his own chest, where a hollow void remained; his heart had been pulverized by the fragments.

"Mortals... how can you... slay gods..."

He fell from the sky, consumed by endless resentment.

Like a kite with a severed string.

Qin Feng withdrew his fingers and lightly blew away non-existent dust.

"Gods?"

"I have killed more gods than you have ever seen men."

He then turned his gaze toward the remaining, terror-stricken remnants of the Allied forces in the sky.

"Now, there are 47 hours and 58 minutes left on the countdown."

Qin Feng took a step, his figure vanishing from the spot.

"But I am in a hurry."

The scenes that followed were, for the audience of the Myriad Races, a full-blown horror film.

For the human audience, it was a display of visceral, unadulterated aesthetic violence.

Qin Feng no longer bothered to defend.

He charged into the heart of the enemy formation.

This was no longer war; it was a one-sided slaughter.

The machine race position.

Qin Feng’s silhouette appeared above the colossal mothership.

He pressed a single hand against the armored plating.

"Physical law modification: metal fatigue."

Boom—

That thousand-meter-long mothership disintegrated instantly, dissolving into a sky full of scrap metal.

The dragon race phalanx.

Several dragons spewed torrents of dragon breath.

Qin Feng grabbed the tail of the lead black dragon, wielding it like a whip.

He swept through the ranks.

Hundreds of dragon warriors were pulverized into paste by the body of their own leader.

"Too weak. Not even worth a loach."

The demon legion.

The "Aura of Terror," the pride of the demons, had no effect on Qin Feng.

With every step Qin Feng took, a hundred demon warriors exploded into gore.

It was the pure, visceral shockwave of his physical vitality.

To these demons, the beating of his heart was the death knell of a war drum.

[Human Chosen One Qin Feng has slain the Titan leader.]

[Human Chosen One Qin Feng has destroyed the Machine core.]

[Human Chosen One Qin Feng has wiped out the Shadow Leopard race.]

...

The system’s kill notifications scrolled by with frantic, screen-filling speed.

The pace was so rapid that even the announcer could not keep up.

On the battlefield, only one white-clad figure remained, rampaging at will.

He used no world-shattering forbidden spells.

Every strike was a basic straight punch, side kick, or hand blade.

Yet, empowered by the "Primordial Limit Dao Body" and the "Cosmic Venerable Realm," these basic moves became the scythe of the Grim Reaper.

Forty-five seconds in.

The last alien Chosen One—a shapeshifter skilled in concealment—knelt on the ground, trembling.

"Don't... don't kill me! I surrender! I'll give you all my points!"

Qin Feng stopped before him, his clothes still spotless, his breathing not even slightly disturbed.

"Surrender?"

Qin Feng looked down at him, his eyes indifferent.

"The Ten Thousand Races Kill Order didn't seem to include an option for 'accepting surrender'."

Puff.

Qin Feng stepped down.

The shapeshifter dissipated into specks of light.

The world fell silent.

On the battlefield, the smoke cleared.

The original dense army of five hundred thousand was now nothing but scattered wreckage and gear.

Qin Feng stood atop a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, checking the time.

[War mission concluded.]

[Time elapsed: 00 hours 00 minutes 58 seconds.]

[Kills: 128/128 (Chosen Ones), 549,000/549,000 (follower units).]

[Stronghold damage rate: 0%.]

[Rating: EX (Beyond Mythical).]

Qin Feng shrugged.

"Ten seconds over. Seems I'm rusty from not fighting for so long."

He waved his hand.

Countless treasures scattered across the battlefield surged into the sky.

These were the life savings of 128 races.

Divine crystals of the God race, high-energy cores of the Machine race, dragon scales of the Dragon race, demon cores of the Demon race...

These resources, enough to trigger interstellar wars in the outside world, were piled up like trash by Qin Feng in the plaza of the human stronghold, forming a towering mountain.

[System Settlement:]

Point reward: Human points surged by 50,000, instantly catapulting them to first place on the overall leaderboard.

Resource plunder: Obtained Ten Thousand Races Resource Pack x128.

National destiny feedback:

[Martial Prosperity]: Spiritual energy concentration across all human territories increased by 100%.

[Ten Thousand Races Deterrence]: Humans now possess a natural "coercion" effect when facing these 128 races, with all attributes +10%.

[Technological Explosion]: Analyzed machine race wreckage, obtained intermediate interstellar warship manufacturing technology.

In the real universe.

The Terra Council Hall remained in deathly silence for a full minute.

Then, a cheer erupted that threatened to tear the roof off.

Councilors wept in each other's arms, tears streaming down their aged faces.

"We won... not just won, we crushed them!"

"First! We are first!"

"From this day on, who dares call the human race weak? Who dares?!"

And in the other corners of the universe.

The temples of the Gods, the abyssal depths of the Demons, the data hubs of the Machines...

A chorus of lamentation rose across the lands.

They gazed at the man standing atop a mountain of spoils, his back turned to the lens, a single thought searing their minds:

He must not be allowed to leave the God-Chosen Battlefield alive!

Yet, a more harrowing realization followed in its wake:

If such a force could not defeat him, who else remained to strike him down?

The God-Chosen Battlefield.

Qin Feng returned to the threshold of his stronghold and reclaimed his seat.

He lifted the teacup he had set aside earlier.

The tea was still steaming.

The temperature was perfect, not even scalding to the lips.

"Mmm, excellent tea."

Qin Feng took a sip, his expression one of serene contentment.

Within the stronghold, the hundred newborns, sensing the dissipation of the threat, began to coo and babble.

Qin Feng turned, the murderous aura on his face dissolving instantly, replaced by a gentle smile.

"Did I wake you?"

"It is alright. I was merely tidying up."

He looked up at the sky, toward the crimson scroll that had once signaled the "Universal Death Warrant."

The list was fracturing, crumbling into nothingness.

In its place, a new list emerged, shimmering with golden light.

[God-Chosen Combat Power Ranking]

No. 1: Qin Feng (Human). Evaluation: Immeasurable.

Qin Feng felt no stir of emotion at this ranking.

He simply closed his eyes once more, circulating his internal energy to digest the insights gleaned from the battle.

Though his opponents were weak, the act of leveraging the "Rules" to manifest "Gravity Wells" and "Energy Reversal" had granted him a deeper grasp of the fundamental code of this dimension.

"The Venerable Realm is not merely an accumulation of power, but an interpretation of the 'Dao'."

"The God-Chosen Battlefield... Heh, perhaps this place is the catalyst I need to transcend to the 'Late Venerable Stage'."

(End of Chapter)