After work, start to speedrun the other world-Chapter 157 - 43: The Hero Who Takes on a Thousand Enemies Alone_2

Chapter 157: Chapter 43: The Hero Who Takes on a Thousand Enemies Alone_2

"Come choose, whether you choose to be saved by the Goddess of Death or to be killed by the heroes,"

she addressed the praying believers of death.

"Those who wish to be killed by a hero, raise your hands."

"..."

"..."

Death.

The concept was terrifying, but only for those without the notion of Hell—at least for the followers of the Goddess of Death.

Reality was the true Hell.

And Hell was a place of bliss, where one needn’t suffer from hunger and could reunite with family, where the buried history of all its landscapes and celebrities offered sights beyond the current world’s imagination.

So the believers of the Goddess of Death did not fear passing.

And now a choice lay before them all, whether to believe the Goddess of Death would descend to save everyone.

Or to choose to die at the hands of the heroes.

It didn’t take long for the believers of death to answer with action—a multitude of hands raised, opting to be killed by the heroes.

Compared to having their souls taken by the Witch of Death, waiting for the uncertain arrival of the Goddess of Death, the better choice now was to die by a hero’s hand.

It did not go against the teachings against suicide.

And it was a chance to go to Hell ahead of time.

"Hahaha, there are still so many steadfast in faith," the puppet girl laughed, covering her face, then glanced at the statue of the Goddess of Death in the square.

"Oh merciful Goddess of Death, do you plan to fail your believers’ trust?" she taunted.

"Or do you intend to be a coward?" Her merciless provocation showed no trace of fear toward the Goddess of Death.

But from her unconsciously averted gaze and slightly trembling voice, one could feel her tension.

After all, she was challenging a deity.

She waited for a moment.

"Hee hee hee... weaklings, they are all weaklings. The Goddess of Death truly is a coward," she snickered, covering her mouth as she continued her mockery.

After confirming the Goddess of Death wouldn’t appear,

"Unfold, Puppet Kingdom." With a gentle clapping of the puppet girl’s hands, the vast city stretched across the sky as if two cities were overlapping at one point.

One by one, the puppets with people on their backs fell from the sky, grabbing the hand-raising believers of death and the heroes to the overlapping city above.

...

...

"What on earth is this?" Xi Mu glanced at the believers of death surrounding him and couldn’t help frowning.

At that moment, he stood in a vast arena with only a few cultists of the Witch of Death in the stands.

"It’s probably ’World Form’ capability," a mercenary holding a greatsword stepped forward, his smile broad and generous.

"Discontent with the existence of this world, vehemently desiring a particular form of existence, hence creating a self-kingdom with a reality different from ours."

He shrugged his shoulders.

"This guy must be obsessed with puppets to a certain degree, otherwise such a power could not have come into being,"

Xi Mu calmly replied, "Is that so."

In the game Mysterious Gate, the setting for self-kingdom stated, "The king of the inner world," where someone could awaken powers corresponding to the world they longed for if they desired it madly enough.

"Sorry, Hero." The mercenary posed for attack and apologized to the encircled hero, his steps relentless.

"You know the rules of ’duel,’ you can’t let yourself be killed without resisting, or it’s considered ’suicide,’ and then we can’t go to Hell."

"No worries, I will personally kill all of you." Xi Mu drew out the Hunting King’s Greatsword, and as his palm brushed the blade, it ignited with a crimson Ash Fire.

"Ahhh, sorry, I have no choice!" A skinny man with a dagger suddenly rushed out, stabbing with all his might.

To descend into Hell, one must fight with all one’s might, otherwise it would be seen as a desire for suicide, which violates both the doctrine and the rules of a duel.

So what she was doing now was a very mean thing to do; even though her opponent was helping her to go to Hell, she still intended to kill him with all her strength.

"It’s okay." Xi Mu’s voice was so calm that it was excessive, giving off a strangely compassionate feeling. He cleaved the attacking man in two with a faster stroke.

Then he turned to the death devotees rushing at him from all sides, listening to their apologies while they struck him mercilessly.

"Ahhh... sorry, Hero!!!" The mercenary wielding a large sword leaped in the air and swung it at Xi Mu’s head.

Soon after, he was skewered by a spear.

Xi Mu flung the spear forcefully, sending the corpse of the mercenary flying, and then began a massacre. Death devotees, as if driven mad, charged at him fearlessly, apologizing as they relentlessly tried to take his life.

The more the enemies appeared in front of him, the smaller the space to move became, but it also meant that the efficiency of the slaughter increased.

The spear could pierce through death devotees more quickly.

The greatsword could decapitate multiple enemies at once.

After slaying a death devotee, another immediately lunged at him, leaving no room for rest.

With every step and turn of the sword in his hand, a death devotee’s head would be cleanly slashed off.

Blood and fire seemed to engulf the entire duel arena.

After a long time.

The battlefield became empty.

Flames burned the bodies on the ground while Xi Mu walked forward, step by step. With each step, the charred corpses at his feet crunched audibly.

There were only three living persons left on the battlefield.

"Sorry, Lord Ahtal." A nun approached Xi Mu on her own, holding an exaggeratedly designed scythe.

Devotees of the Goddess of Death usually wield scythes, likely because the death devotees believed in the scythe’s ability to harvest life.

So their unified weapon of choice was the scythe.

"There’s no need to apologize." Xi Mu’s expression remained very calm, as his Hunting King’s Greatsword blocked the incoming scythe, and his spear pierced through the nun’s heart in a smooth movement.

As the nun felt her life ebbing away, she smiled with relief and said, "If I have the chance to meet you in Hell, I will surely apologize to you."

"..."

Xi Mu didn’t answer, walked past the woman, and looked towards the next living loot coming towards him—a knight in armor was approaching him.

"To die at the hands of a Hero, how fortunate." The knight in armor laughed heartily, gripping his undead-piercing spear, assuming a stance to thrust.

Xi Mu, noticing the knight standing still, immediately launched a battle skill of the undead-piercing spear, aimed directly at the heart.

The wind burst forth from the undead-piercing spear, penetrating the knight’s heart like a drill.

Actually, with the knight’s abilities, he could have blocked a few of Xi Mu’s strikes, but he chose to stand still and prepare for a thrust.

The battle skill contained within the undead-piercing spear was strong enough to take the knight’s life in an instant. After all, the spear was designed to target the heart, able to consolidate a wind that could pierce it once it had its aim.

It could also suppress the regeneration of the enemy’s heart.

"As expected of a Hero, such formidable weapons you possess." The only remaining devotee of the Goddess of Death moved closer to Xi Mu.

He held twin blades with a very serene demeanor.

"We are willing to be killed, so don’t feel guilty for slaying... a thousand of us." As he spoke, the man with the twin blades launched himself off the ground like a cannonball, his body flipping in the air with the blades twirling like a meat grinder.

"Bang!" The clash of blades sparked, and before the twin-bladed man could stabilize, Xi Mu pierced him through the chest with a spear thrust.

The spear was withdrawn, and blood followed.

"I’ll wait for you in Hell, Ahtal," the man with the twin blades knelt, smiling at the indifferent silver-armored knight not far off.

He then fell into a pool of his own blood.

Xi Mu shook the blood off the spear, calmly surveying the battlefield; where his gaze landed, there were only corpses, and the crimson flames burned them as fuel.

The firelight reflected off his silver armor, almost as if he was in Hell.

Next, it was time to harvest... the Hero.