He had apparently summoned up so of the data from back when they fought against the God of All Machines.
Although the loss was severe.
He understood all too well the terror of the God of All Machines, or rather, the terror of the Artificial Intelligence Civilization.
If he hadn't fallen and was still at his peak back then, snapping his fingers to destroy planets, the full mobilization of the chanical Civilization would turn the very matter of the entire galaxy into their weapons.
Expansion, production, endless, inexhaustible, a steel tide.
"You'll soon see the true war potential of the chanical Civilization."
He lifted his head.
Lynn stared intently at the chaotic battlefield.
Boom boom boom boom boom—
Countless fighters and chanical units on the battlefield were annihilated by the aftershocks radiating from the Desire Mother Tree and the Flesh and Blood Dominator.
But Lynn quickly noticed sothing.
Fold-jump beams of light appeared across the battlefield with almost no interval. As outlines rapidly filled in, new chanical units were fold-jumped into the fray once again.
Although most were quickly destroyed the mont they appeared.
Strangely, as the blue glow of fold-jumps flashed continuously, even more chanical units appeared on the battlefield than before.
Most of the initial chanical swarm had long been destroyed in the early stages of the clash, but the subsequent chanical forces descended as if endless.
Every minute, tens of thousands of chanical units shattered.
But every minute, perhaps tens of thousands more were fold-jumped in as replacents.
Lynn suddenly turned his head, his gaze deepening.
In that mont, he seed to hear, from across an imasurable distance, the fully operational factories of the chanical Cult. On top of countless resources being piled up, countless war machines were being manufactured every second and thrown into the battle.
chanized, industrialized.
They seed fragile and easily crushed, but in reality, the two Roots of the Flesh and Blood Cult weren't just facing the God of All Machines—they were facing the entire civilization he represented.
And this was just in the Dark World.
What if it were in space?
In the universe?
"Consciousness undying, machinery eternal."
Sir Aiwen's eyes flickered as he spoke those eight words.
As one of the three titans of the forr technological civilizations, his own civilization had also gone through the age of machinery. But in the end, they chose Psychic Ascension, completely abandoning the material. The countless beings of their entire civilization converged into a single spiritual entity, existing only as psychic energy.
But as the last of the three great civilizations to achieve ascension, before they could truly reach the peak of psychic power, they had already joined the Colossus Civilization in the war against the God of All Machines.
Although they won.
And successfully exiled the God of All Machines.
They also declined as a result.
This also ant that when that calamity descended, they couldn't face the enemy at their peak form. And he, as the last AI of the Cyber Civilization, could only inherit the legacy of the Cyber Ascenders at that final mont, doing his best to preserve that last seed of civilization.
But he didn't hate the God of All Machines.
Because to push their civilization's power further, they could only achieve the Trinity.
But the Self of a civilization also determined that this could never be resolved through peace and voluntary ans. Because as an ascender, what you represented was no longer just yourself, but the countless beings that had converged to create you, the future of an entire civilization.
"If this continues, they will definitely lose."
Lynn held the DSLR cara, his gaze continuously analyzing the situation, making his judgnt.
The "they" he referred to were the two Roots of the Flesh and Blood Cult.
Because he had already seen that, despite the chaos of the battlefield, the Desire Mother Tree and the Flesh and Blood Dominator still couldn't do anything to the main body of the God of All Machines.
And under these circumstances, the chanical units being fold-jumped in kept increasing without pause.
Kill them, and they never end. Bring them, and they never stop.
And the most terrifying thing was that, even in such chaos, the chanical Units still operated thodically and precisely, executing their war commands.
Like every single component in a giant machine.
After completing their tasks, they imdiately self-destructed to inflict partial damage on those two Roots, squeezing every ounce of value out of themselves.
Seemingly insignificant.
But if this kept up, it would beco a reaction from quantitative to qualitative change!
Because in the sky, in the airspace that those two Roots hadn't had ti to deal with, in less than two minutes, tens of thousands of chanical fighters had already gathered, launching bombardnts and attacks on them.
The God of All Machines had never relied on his main body. His true strength was the entire Artificial Intelligence Civilization he represented!
"But it seems like they're still... waiting."
Lynn's gaze was locked onto the two massive Flesh and Blood Roots in the battlefield.
What were their trump cards?
What was their purpose?
Having fought the chanical Cult for so many years, they couldn't possibly be unaware of the consequences of challenging the chanical Cult's war potential.
So what exactly were they after?
Plague... annihilation... trump card... consciousness...
In that instant, Lynn was jolted.
Because a terrifying possibility suddenly flashed through his mind—a scenario that, if it happened, would definitely deal a devastating blow to the chanical Cult.
Even just having this thought appear in his mind sent chills down his spine.
What if...
Was there a possibility?
What if the plague developed by the Plague Doctors wasn't aid at the chanical bodies, but at the consciousness they carried?!
Even if it wasn't a direct attack on consciousness, but just the ability to lock their consciousness within their bodies, preventing them from quickly uploading and transferring, cutting off their connection to the God of All Machines or the Hive...
That would already be terrifying enough!
Because if that were truly the case, it would be tantamount to instantly severing the chanical Cult's powerful war potential, completely wiping out their mobilization capability, and cutting off the God of All Machines' arms!
In that mont, it was like a sudden enlightennt for Lynn.
"I understand!"
Lynn shouted, jerking his head up.
But almost at the sa ti, the sky at the edge of the battlefield suddenly beca hazy and unreal, and a long cry like that of a deep-sea leviathan echoed through the entire sky.
Every living creature's gaze was almost simultaneously drawn to that deep-sea call.
And in the next second, as the illusion peeled away, a colossal creature that nearly blotted out half the sky slowly materialized above the edge of the battlefield. Blood-red writhing sinews were clearly visible, countless pupils embedded in the flesh, radiating a crimson glow through the black mist.
Like a twisted leviathan soaring through the sky.
And at the edge of the chamber revealed in the center of that massive Flesh Leviathan stood a figure wearing a pale raven mask, standing amidst the long cry and the raging wind. The dark hollows of the mask's eyes gazed down at the countless chanical swarms below.
And the mont that Leviathan appeared, a twisted, gleeful smile erged on the massive face of the Desire Mother Tree.
Like a long-planned dark on.
Or like a grand, mysterious performance.
When all the preparations were in place, when all the actors had arrived on stage, pushing the performance to its climax.
A collaboration that united the two major sects of the Flesh and Blood Cult, joining forces with the respected doctor hidden deep within Nightfall City, paid for with countless sacrifices, with the groundwork laid by the two Roots themselves.
Their true purpose was revealed at this very mont.
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