novelODS Chapter 1219 - 831: The Vanguard of the Void
Chapter 1219 - 831: The Vanguard of the Void
Outside the small town.Old Jack, Bran, Eira, and Mog stood back-to-back.
Standing at the edge of the apple orchard that emitted an ominous purple glow.
The air was thickening with a sense of "void", as if sound and light were being slowly absorbed.
All around was unusually quiet, even the chirping of autumn insects had vanished.
All natural creatures living here had fled in instinctive fear.
Only the increasingly shrill and piercing high-frequency buzzing of the detector in Bran’s hand, and their own heavy heartbeats, remained.
"Index... index is off the charts! The detector... is about to overload!"
Bran’s voice was hoarse, his beard soaked with sweat, as he futilely tried to stabilize the instrument that flashed erratically, almost jumping out of its casing.
Eira’s bowstring was taut, the arrowhead trembling slightly, aimed at the most intense area of the purple glow.
She felt bouts of dizziness and nausea, signs of her spirit fighting against invisible erosion.
She forced herself to focus, staring dead ahead.
Old Jack gripped his standard longsword tightly, his knuckles white.
"I have to say, I’ve been through so many paths, facing the opening of a Void Rift like this, perhaps for the first time."
"Not many have truly experienced it; in this sense, we might even be fortunate, aren’t we?"
A few dry laughs came from beside him.
Though he certainly intended to lighten the atmosphere, now, none could truly lighten up.
That fear, coming from the instinct of life itself, wrapped around the heart like cold vines.
Old Jack couldn’t help but close his mouth, gripping the sword hilt tighter.
His gaze swept over the young people around him.
Bran’s focus, Eira’s stubbornness, Mog’s steady pulse from roots deep in the earth— they were his responsibility and his power.
Compared to him, they were all too young.
Would their bodies be preserved?
Would their souls truly return to the black and white dragon as the bulletin said?
Would they really come back under the power of the black and white dragon?
Facing death, facing a resurrection that seemed indeed possible.
He felt complicated.
"Remember," Old Jack’s voice was low and hoarse, yet as firm as a rock, "our task is not to destroy them, it’s to pin them here! Mark the location! Gain time for reinforcements! For Hamilton... gain every second!"
Mog’s heavy body emitted a low, earth-resonating hum.
His thick roots spread crazily underground, trying to sense the energy core about to break through space, spreading a faint, calming essence of nature to barely withstand the void’s life-eroding chill.
The world would provide certain help, and Cui Yu’s blessing would bring a guide of power.
But in the face of the void, in the face of absolute destruction.
It all seemed futile.
Just then —
"Crack!"
A slight yet incredibly clear sound rang out, like glass shattering or space itself groaning.
Just twenty meters ahead, the air twisted and tore suddenly like a shattered prism!
A slender fissure appeared out of nowhere, its edges flickering with unstable purple energy arcs.
The interior of the fissure was not darkness but a heart-stopping, utterly deep "void" as if even the concept of "nothing" was being devoured there.
The familiar cold and despair felt in the Void Pit, surging outward like a material tide, instantly engulfed the four of them.
Bran’s detector emitted a sharp wail, extinguishing all its lights entirely.
Eira grunted, enduring severe headache and nausea, zeroing her arrow rigidly at the rift.
"Here it comes!"
Old Jack roared, his voice unknowingly trembling.
The rift, through violent energy fluctuations, as if torn by an invisible giant hand, suddenly expanded to both sides.
"Buzz—!"
An indescribable, world-external shriek, not transmitted through air, but directly resonating in everyone’s spirit.
The rift instantly enlarged into an irregular opening, wide enough for a carriage to pass through.
At the opening’s edge, the purple energy flowed and dripped like viscous liquid, instantly eroding fallen grass leaves into ash-gray crystal dust.
Inside the opening, it was no longer pure "void", but a nauseating purple halo churning and surging.
Within the halo, countless twisted, grotesque contours writhed and gathered, greedily eyeing this vibrant world.
Immediately after, a terrifying arthropod covered in thick, irregular purple crystals suddenly reached out from the swirling purple mist.
Its form somewhere between an insect’s scythe-like legs and a raptor’s sharp claws, the joints bristling with sharp crystal spurs, glimmering an icy and sinister purple light.
It probed, clutching fiercely onto the reality of the rift’s edge.
"Sizzle—!"
The sound of space burning, harsh and piercing, as the rift’s edge’s purple arcs instantly became more frenzied.
That crystal talon, firmly clamped onto the edge of the real world, like a doomsday-proclaiming anchor point.
Void Rift, opened!
The Night Watcher outpost squad of four faced the gaping maw of destruction and despair, as well as the monstrous talon heralding the vanguard’s descent.
Their faces looked exceedingly pale under the purple glow, but their grip on their weapons tightened.
No retreat, only to hold the line, until the steel flood of reinforcements arrived, or... to sink with the land they protected.