564: Chapter 362 The Inevitable Existence Arising from Researching the Weave 564: Chapter 362 The Inevitable Existence Arising from Researching the Weave William nonchalantly enlightened Hill about the Demon Lord, since he had already appeared, there was no point in keeping secrets any longer.
He believed that Hill would definitely not be deceived by the devil.
Not only was Hill’s heart sufficiently resilient and kind, but also because in this world, there were probably very few people who could lie before Hill while suppressing the Natural Spirit Light within him.
William deeply understood why Hill was reluctant to stay in crowded places; the human world was primarily composed of a majority of lies, so evasions, and very little honesty.
If Hill were in a noisy place, it would probably muddle his brain, and the Natural Consciousness would constantly be crying out, “Lies!”
Spencer ca over holding a tablet: “Can the Undead Tribe only watch from outside now?
Can that Demon Lord close the seawater entrance?
They can still enjoy the spectacle and bet on when the devil will close this seawater vent.
But if there is nothing else to do, they won’t last long, right?
Besides, the number of devils running out for them to kill is diminishing; most are probably hiding up high, waiting for their master to return victoriously!”
William turned to look at the giant screen: “Have them build an Ice Wall around the capital, and it would be best if the Holy Rain never stops; if they can construct a Holy Wall, even better.”
“That Demon Lord?” Spencer asked doubtfully, “Won’t he make a move?”
“You’ll have to ask Hill how long that fissure can last!” William relaxed in his throne, “Given the temperant of the Eighth Monarch phistopheles, if it lasts too long, he might just give up resisting and return to Hell.”
“Six hours.” Hill answered a bit awkwardly; this was why he had always felt this spell was unusable.
A downpour lasting six hours could cause flooding, not to ntion this sort of waterfall-like pouring.
The only thing he could control was the size of the fissure, but even the smallest was 50 ters long and 2 ters wide.
Over the capital of the Magic Kingdom, that fissure which Hill had almost depleted most of his mana for, spanned a full 200 ters.
For this city, it was nearly a catastrophe; within just twenty minutes, seawater had already risen above the city walls and started to spread beyond the city.
Otherwise, phistopheles wouldn’t have abandoned the task at hand to co out and try to plug this fissure.
Whatever he intended to do was all typical devil’s work, absolutely intolerable while being purified by the Elental Seawater alongside doing it.
But if it took too long, he would definitely choose to give up.
Even if it was just an avatar, it should possess a similar temperant to the original body and would definitely not persist further upon realizing success was unattainable, as the words ‘take risks’ simply did not exist in the dictionary of this Great Monarch.
William was at a loss for words: “Then phistopheles will definitely run!
He has no genuine concern for protecting his subordinates.”
He instructed Spencer: “Have the Undead Tribe speed up the wall construction, and by all ans, do not stop the Holy Rain and Blizzard in the sky; if there is any gap, let phistopheles get slapped before he leaves—it’s his own bad luck!”
“Isn’t soone from Gerns supposed to co looking for him?” Spencer asked sowhat strangely, “You’ve already set up the battlefield!”
Although his fingers were continuously typing, his face was filled with doubt as he watched William.
If that person doesn’t show up, wouldn’t it render William’s use of so much Divine Power to break the Demon Lord’s Defensive Magic Array pointless?
Strong as Hill was, he lacked the ability to confront phistopheles alone.
William shook his head: “I don’t know if they will appear.
Clearly, phistopheles will not stay in this world; perhaps he’ll give up?
I also didn’t expect Hill’s spell to be so useful, almost completely purifying the city.
The devil’s accumulations over tens of thousands of years are ruined; they probably just want to withdraw now.
Devils and demons are different—they lack that kind of insanity to fight to the death.”
Hill understood what William implied; the Gerns World Will and the one who wanted to duel the God of Magic were so eager mainly because they were worried that William wouldn’t strive at his utmost.
If the God of Magic were to escape, William could walk away anyti, considering his task complete if this world mostly recovered.
But this world would still be under the shadow of the devil.
However, now, all of phistopheles’s plans had perished in this torrential pour of the Elental Sea.
With the Purified Weave central hub useless to keep, there was little left for him.
For phistopheles, establishing another Weave capable of enduring dark magic power in Gerns is basically impossible now.
Knowing that joining his Weave could either turn them into Puppets or devils, probably few humans will ever join his Weave to serve as his test subjects again.”
“I’ll set a ti limit for the Undead Tribe,” Spencer murmured, lowering his head, “Better to have a competition mode; otherwise, if it gets too boring, they will start fighting among themselves.
Competing in wall-building is definitely better than having an internal strife in front of devils”.
Hill looked back at William, slumped on his throne; the Divine Power in the King had only slightly recovered.
Apart from using the Divine Artifact, he was basically unable to fight further.
Hill frowned in anticipation, Gerns World Will, on behalf of whom was it speaking?
Silvermoon wasn’t likely; the sensation of being near death was too profound and entirely unlike the façade the Silvermoon Goddess of Teraxil had once portrayed.
Even if he were to wake up, he wouldn’t leave Silvermoon, for Black Moon and Red Moon could block his path to descend upon the world at any ti.
Hill pondered for a long ti, he sighed silently, as phistopheles was clearly getting impatient.
The Ring of Winter was a high-grade artifact, and his re avatar could not close the crack.
He also couldn’t determine how much ti was left, and moreover, that devil was obviously watching the Undead Tribe piling up walls.
All the Elental Water was blocked by ice walls within the city, making it aningless for him to keep resisting.
phistopheles, without hesitation, dropped his hand and hurled several infernal fires.
Flas burst forth, releasing odd-shaped Great Devils that charged directly at the Undead in all four directions.
He was planning to escape.
The Undead Tribe shouted as they t these devils with black flas, while the devils hiding in the city were also found by the Demon Lord, who ruthlessly drove those who decided to forsake their positions to desperately fight against the Undead Tribe.
Just as he turned and opened a dark grand door, a lodious song pierced through the sky.
A squad of five appeared before phistopheles.
Two Knights, a Bard, a Priest, and a Longbowman.
Three humans, two elves.
“Elves ca out?” William asked in surprise, “The elves of this world, they actually would fight to the death for the world!”
“There are many of the Kind Alignnt among elves,” Hill said resignedly, “His Majesty the King, don’t compare our world’s Elven God King with other elves.
Elves can belong to any alignnt, and not many are as brainless as he is.”
The Bard’s song rose spiritedly, filled with the roars of battles, the wails of death, the cries of war…
Like a furious storm rushing through the battlefield, invisible lights blessing his teammates.
Both Knights had already blocked phistopheles’s trident directly, while the large clumps of infernal flas thrown by the Demon Lord couldn’t do much harm to them before being extinguished by the rushing seawater.
“That Bard, very powerful, is the strongest in this squad,” William made his judgent.
Even though the Priest was continuously casting Divine Arts to purify and heal the Knights, the Elf Longbowman, evidently using a Divine Artifact, inflicted significant damage on the Demon Lord with every arrow.
But, to the discerning eye, the real powerhouse was the human at the back, who sang aloud while strumming the Ruth.
“Ah!” Hill pulled out a Knight novel from his ring, turning its pages rapidly.
As the Undead Tribe sold him more books, he found himself reading these Knight novels less frequently, but if the era was different, he would still glance through them, researching what special events might have occurred during that ti.
The world’s books were still most abundant among the Mages, who also needed entertainnt, hence many novels from tens of thousands of years ago were well-preserved.
Hill looked at the Bard on the big screen, flipping through books to one about a Singer in the tavern.
He played various string instrunts, swung handbells, hit drums of all kinds, and sang his self-composed ballads, teaching all the interested souls about the joys and sorrows of life.
The songs sung by the tavern’s female singers were all passed down from him.
He was very handso, but his face always bore a weary expression, his pale long hair neatly tied back, wearing a gray robe that though slightly worn, was always clean.
Hill glanced up from his book back to the Bard on the big screen who looked just the sa.
William couldn’t help but call out to him, “Found sothing?
Don’t just keep to yourself!
Look at my curious eyes~”
Hill, holding several books, said, “These are tavern songs that have been passed down from thirty thousand years ago, and the image of that Bard hasn’t changed at all.
It appears to be him.”
William was quiet, he observed the Bard more closely, becoming increasingly resigned.
“Goddess of Magic, you are really sensitive!” he sighed, “That broken Weave must have ford about thirty thousand years ago, right?
Have they started sending people to scout the enemy?”
Hill looked at William in surprise, was this the follower of the Goddess of Magic?
Her Harpist organization, although powerful, couldn’t easily cross the cosmic Crystal Wall, could it?
“Is this a Saint or an avatar?” William murmured, “Why doesn’t he just bring out the Harp to use?”
Hill was extrely curious, “Which deity is this?”
“Miliel, the God of Song, a loyal ally of the Goddess of Magic,” William stated lightly, “Once you guess who it is, you can recognize him from his essence.
His song carries a divine essence, that’s why those two Demigod-level Knights could withstand phistopheles.
It won’t be long before phistopheles figures it out.
That is Divine Power.”
Hill thought silently, it seed that the Goddess of Magic really was the third one to hold the title now!
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