Read Novel Full Chapter 1333 - Taming the Old World - Seconds
Chapter 1333 - Taming the Old World - Seconds
Furthermore, it hardly mattered what desperate countermeasures the small humans decided to deploy… They would inevitably fall short.
The ancient entity locked within the mutant meat chassis harbored the unshakeable certainty of a being that had already weathered the apex of human strength.
It had already tasted the absolute ceiling of Ren's draconic output. And it had survived.
During their initial clash, this stitched-together mutant vessel had been significantly smaller. It had not yet absorbed the stolen guardian cores currently sitting in its chest, and its overall physical mass was a mere fraction of its present towering state.
Even in that incomplete, fragile condition, the ancient parasite had successfully endured the synchronized, maximum-output barrage from Ren and the kingdom's heaviest hitters. It had been sealed away in the end, true, but it had not been broken.
It had walked away from the most devastating strike humanity had ever managed to coordinate.
Today, the half mechanical titan was a vastly superior weapon.
It possessed overwhelming physical mass. It wielded the raw ether of the stolen cores, actively feeding through the blind spot in the harmonic interference grid. It commanded a sheer output that had previously proven sufficient to shatter Ren's best tower, a defensive construct boasting a structural density rivaling true adamantium.
If it possessed the strength to fracture an adamantium-grade shell, then no pathetic human artillery was going to slow its ascent. Defeating the ancient machine in a straightforward brawl was a mathematical impossibility. Engaging in open combat was, by a massive margin, the most foolish tactical route the Vanguard could have possibly selected.
Yet the only viable alternative, reconstructing the runic lock, would not save them either.
The parasite had run the equations meticulously during its long, silent days of captivity. Regardless of whatever meager advantages the Vanguard hoarded, and no matter how meticulously they prepared their ritual, weaving a suppression matrix of that magnitude required a tangible investment of time.
The very second they breached the steel dome to initiate the overhaul, the creature would reclaim its connection to the purple energy network. It would instantly shatter the compromised bedrock floor before the Tamers could finish their incantations. It would slip seamlessly into the deeper basement of the castle, claiming the ultimate prize it had sought from the very beginning, long before the humans could secure even the first runic node.
At this juncture, a total victory was an inescapable certainty.
Consequently, when the Vanguard actively cracked the prison wide open, momentarily pinning the mechanical chassis in place with a net of shadow magic just to launch a frontal assault, the primordial entity almost laughed.
They had actually chosen to fight…
They had selected the worst, most profoundly idiotic path available on the board. It was the exact brand of suicidal arrogance it had come to expect from insignificant pests who deluded themselves into believing they could challenge the divine.
♢♢♢♢
The light energy impact crashed down like a divine judgment.
Ren's strike, heavily amplified and completely overcharged, descended upon the beast carrying the crushing weight of a lethal draconic overload and the synchronized fury of six elite shadow commanders. Against any standard creature on the continent, that single blinding flash would have spelled instant annihilation.
The ancient machine simply raised its stolen artifacts to weather the storm.
The indestructible limbs snapped upward, interposing themselves between the falling mass of ether and the creature's vulnerable core, soaking up the staggering force exactly as they had absorbed every previous assault.
The purple mind actively measured the incoming pressure while holding the line, analyzing the damage output with the chilling calm of a predator that already knew the final score.
The current barrage was even weaker than the boy's previous masterpiece.
It was not a huge difference, yet the drop in raw power was undeniable. Ren had failed to chamber the strike to its maximum capacity. Something had fractured the human's singular focus, siphoning away a crucial percentage of his destructive potential.
Against this newly upgraded, towering chassis, the compromised blow would barely inflict systemic damage to the thirty or forty percent of the outer meat armor it failed to shield completely.
It was nothing the creature could not instantly regenerate. It was nothing that would genuinely halt its ascent from the dark.
The Vanguard was not going to win a war of attrition with a half-hearted swing.
The ancient parasite processed that undeniable reality as the indestructible artifacts glowed white-hot under the crushing pressure, holding their ground without yielding a single inch. It decided to simply let the storm burn itself out against the heavy armor. The very second the human's barrage dissipated, the machine would pivot, shatter the already compromised bedrock floor beneath its feet, and plunge directly into the castle's deepest vault. It would finally claim the buried treasure chest, securing the final victory it had spent so much time waiting to seize.
The pathetic vermin had officially played their heaviest card.
And it was insultingly weak… A half-baked strike.
A lock that would inevitably buckle under this pressure. A besieged capital full of exhausted mortals hopelessly fighting a corrupted tide that would bury their walls by morning regardless of what happened in this dome.
Was this truly the climax of their resistance? Was this fractured, desperate offensive the best humanity's greatest champion, the young man blessed with such ridiculous luck, could muster against a genuine god?
The primordial purple mind, thoroughly convinced of its impending triumph, braced its metallic legs against the onslaught and coiled its internal springs to tear its cage apart.
The game was already won.
The only chore left on the itinerary was to weather this brief, glowing storm, step over the ashes of the resistance, and claim what rightfully belonged to it.
Blinded by its own infallible certainty, the entity completely failed to sense the subtle ethereal currents shifting just beyond the blinding glare of the attack.
It failed to realize that the devastating strike was not the focal point of the human strategy.
It had never been the actual point.
While the ancient parasite hid behind its indestructible shields, entirely consumed by the effort of resisting the blast and savoring the sweet taste of an inevitable victory, six ruin crystals and six primordial cores were already spinning in a tight orbit around Ren's shoulders.
The twelve nodes were being seamlessly stitched together by a sprawling, golden network of luminescent hyphae, actively woven at breakneck speed by a thoroughly hysterical symbiotic mushroom.
The purple mind failed to recognize that Ren's barrage was missing half of its destructive ceiling not due to weakness, but because the other half of the boy's monstrous brain was entirely dedicated to runic architecture.
It never dawned on the ancient god that the brutal brawl it believed it had just won was, from the very first millisecond, nothing more than a flashy distraction.
The mechanical dragon weathered the glowing storm, smiling inwardly with the suffocating arrogance of a divine predator that had faced the end of the world and survived to tell the tale.
It did not see the true trap closing around its throat, a flawless hexagonal cage meticulously woven by the ghost of a dead engineer, a suicidal human boy, and a loudly complaining mushroom.
Not quite yet.