My Pet Beast is really not an Evil God-Chapter 1733 - 498: Kings Shocked! River of History Riot! Taboo Truth Funeral!_2
Chapter 1733: Chapter 498: Kings Shocked! River of History Riot! Taboo Truth Funeral!_2
Without the support of the [King’s Court—Heavenly Dome Path], the Heavenly Dome Tree King could not withstand the doubled weight of the Divine Land with the added divine might, and crashed through the City of the Sky Summit, falling into the depths of the earth, instantly creating a Giant Pit.
Dust billowed, blocking out the sun and sky.
Boom!
The Ancient Kingdom continued to draw near, already half-revealed or even more, dyeing the world a ghastly pale.
Rustle, rustle, rustle, rustle!
From within that white hole, faint sounds of writing on paper could be heard, and an indescribable figure shrouded in the dust of endless history emerged.
However, at this moment, the reddish-brown dust above was rapidly receding, disappearing, and the phantom of the River of History faded away, transforming into a vast divine might.
The ancient Old Gods were returning to the mortal realm!
"This is bad!"
The Heavenly Dome Tree King tried to act again, yet he saw endless white paper covering him, imprinting his laws onto the paper and then forcibly adhering it to his blood and flesh; fresh blood stained the white paper, like a ritual of mummification, rapidly wrapping and covering him.
The horror of high-dimensional corruption eroded, persistently disrupting the use of laws.
Even with the ecological suppression of the Old Gods by the Mortal World, but...
The Paper Deity was once a top-tier Great Existence!
Even when suppressed, he possessed terrifying fighting prowess.
The Chaotic Spirit God Fiend sneered, "Give up your struggle; you... as well as the whole Spirit Race will become my nourishment."
"Next, witness the resurrection of the spiritual power Master and the birth of the Old Gods."
"Failed again, did I..."
The Heavenly Dome Tree King murmured, the light upon his body revealing his true visage with the white paper’s greedy consumption—a strikingly handsome middle-aged elf with emerald-green hair, profound and wise, yet with an undissolvable sorrow in his eyes.
At this moment, he was contaminated with endless dust, disheveled yet still noble, like a prince in distress.
Feeling the dust that stained his lips, his body trembled slightly, not in revulsion; tears fell to the Great Earth, and his True King-level spiritual power caused the vegetation on the earth to grow wildly as he murmured,
"Even if you decay into dust, I can still remember the scent of your memories."
He did not know when he became fearful of returning to the dust, fearful of becoming weak again.
He gave his all just for a chance to see her once more.
Even if it was just an unrealistic dream.
"It’s over."
The Elf Queen strove to attack with all her might, but was repelled by the Ancient Kingdom, staggering back and sitting on the ground helplessly, watching the broken Kingdom of the Sky Tree and the Old Gods eroding everything, with no intention of running away.
Without her father...
Without her mother...
Without her clan members...
Without her home...
Even if she runs, where could she possibly escape to?
Living like a dog that has lost its home is not her wish.
She gave a desolate smile, curled up her body like an abandoned puppy, silently waiting for death to come.
For some reason, she suddenly felt an urge to cry.
Even now, she had never felt the sensation of love.
It should be... very beautiful, right?
She muttered, "I hope that the sensation of death won’t hurt too much."
"The world after death is very boring; there’s no need to look forward to it."
A familiar voice sounded behind her, causing the Elf Queen to reflexively look back.
Then, she saw a figure slowly approaching.
That’s right, just a figure.
A disciple with only half a body remaining, his remaining left arm, revealing white bones, supporting himself with the Staff of the Dust-Stepper, walking slowly, elegant and composed, and...
Bizarre!
Sssss!
Surrounded by a red energy on the incomplete blood and flesh, with each step he took, he healed a part of himself.
By the time he reached Heristasha, he had restored the appearance of a disciple, dressed in deep red formal attire, smiling gently like an old gentleman.
He turned his neck, making a "crack, crack" sound.
"The Old Gods nowadays are really rude!"
Gary Smith slapped the dust off his body, unable to help but complain.
A fight might break out at any moment, but it was fortunate he merged with Mousie, inheriting the Indestructible Attribute—a mere minor injury of missing half a body was not fatal.
It was good that the lower half was not missing; otherwise, even restoration might not retain its original size!
Mr. Dragon from the Main World almost became a part of history.
Gary Smith pondered in his heart, looking at the Elf Queen, her face wet with tears and crying on his chest, he couldn’t help but admire her innate advantages.
She came with a built-in cushion at all times.
Probably enough to make Willow Tennyson, the swindling Young Girl, burst into tears.
However, after admiring the kingship medal for a few moments, Gary Smith, disinterested, withdrew his gaze, bowed slightly, offering a handkerchief, "Heristasha, the tears of the Star Cluster, yet the treasure of this world."
"Beautiful Your Highness, you should sparkle beautifully with a smile, not with tears."
With that sentence, the Elf Queen’s heart accelerated slightly, looking at the elegantly composed gentleman before her, she could not help but speak, her voice hoarse,
"Why are you still here? To make a mockery of me?"
He could have run away; why did he still appear?
"Of course, it is..." the disciple took the Queen’s hand, giving a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, saying earnestly, "to fulfill the promise from before."
The promise from before?
Heristasha was stunned for a moment, recalling he had once stated... after dealing with the Ancient Kingdom, not only would the Divine Land belong to him, but the Elf Race would also owe 0.9 percent.
But...
Even she, a False King, could not shake the Ancient Kingdom, and even the Father, a True King, had failed. So what could the disciple of the Chaotic Spirit God Fiend even do?
She couldn’t help but give a bitter smile, still taking the handkerchief, sighing, "It’s too late. The Divine Land has descended, the Old Gods have resurrected, and everything has become a foregone conclusion. As for your reward... let this Scepter of the Tree King compensate for it."
