This military fleet consisted of dozens of transport ships belonging to the Glorious Kingdom Holy Church Legion, carrying five hundred thousand sailors and soldiers.
At first glance, this number seemed vast.
In reality, even if these five hundred thousand people were multiplied eight hundred times, reaching several hundred million, it would still be insufficient for others. For a witch like Mycenae who follows the path of Blood Sacrifice, devouring those hundreds of millions—flesh, bone, and soul alike—would only barely allow him to climb from a mortal state to the Morningstar level.
This is the most ideal result, assuming zero negative interference from fate.
This cultivation journey doesn't even account for the crucial Witchcraft that must be mastered and integrated, nor the massive amount of "foods" and experimental subjects required to research such arts.
Yet Seraphine, relying solely on the hateful emotions of these five hundred thousand people and the imagery of their desperate, mutual slaughter, effortlessly ascended to the Morningstar level. Furthermore, she condensed a physical form capable of manifesting or dispersing at will.
How could this be? Why is the gap so immense?
The reason is simple: because not all individuals are created equal.
Often, this disparity is as vast as that between a mortal and a god.
Take Seraphine, for example.
For an "Outlier" existence like her—whose life and spiritual essence far transcend human imagination, and who wields a vast array of ancient Gendaya Witchcraft and secret codices—achieving a ten-thousandfold effectiveness from a single portion of "food" is as effortless as turning over her hand.
"It has been a very long time since I experienced power of such low intensity."
Seraphine's eyes narrowed slightly, sensing the Power of Hatred flowing slowly within this body. "Hmm, the physical structure is mediocre. It needs to be reconstructed once more."
Whoosh!
A concentrated essence of hatred suddenly erupted from her in an explosive surge.
Hiss hiss hiss!
Within a thousand-meter radius, millions of tons of atmosphere and ocean were instantly agitated by this materialized hatred, emitting sharp, piercing shrieks.
In just a few seconds, the hatred surging from Seraphine’s body grew thicker and heavier, eventually manifesting into a physical state.
Streaks of reddish-black mist, carrying echoes of furious roars and screams, surged violently from every part of her skin.
Whirl!
The crimson mist gathered in increasing volume, washing through the air before suddenly condensing into clusters of dark, eerie vortices.
These vortices, teeming with boundless malice, eventually expanded to overlap and cover a vast area tens of kilometers in diameter around Seraphine.
Viewed from the distant sea, an immense sphere composed of countless crimson vortices suddenly loomed between the infinite sky and ocean.
At the very core of this materialized hatred, Seraphine appeared, her form reduced to a blood-red skeleton.
Hiss hiss hiss!
Surrounding her, streaks of crimson mist slowly condensed into jet-black filaments shimmering with a cold luster. These threads, seemingly alive, surged toward the skeleton’s surface and latched on tightly.
Like muscle fibers woven from pure hate, the filaments layered atop one another. Swiftly, Seraphine transformed from a skeletal frame into a flayed, muscular entity.
She raised an arm built from robust, materialized wrath and clenched her fist.
BOOM!!
The atmosphere detonated. Thousands of massive vacuum bursts roared outward, arcing through the air before slamming into the ocean.
CRASH!!
The vast sea, which had just begun to settle, was once again torn apart by cascading, violent waves.
Seraphine beheld the destruction and laughed:
"As expected, this optimized Malice Demon Body is far superior to that previous hollow shell."
Suddenly, the sharp clanging of metal echoed.
The bare muscle bundles of her demon form were instantly encased in thick, ferocious plates of heavy armor.
Indeed, there was no skin.
Seraphine had no intention of walking the Realm of Phantasm in a human guise.
In an instant, she transformed into a 2.5-meter-tall demonic warlord, covered from head to toe in crimson heavy plate armor bristling with dense, jagged barbs.
Just then, a dozen white-robed witches, radiating intense, glorious auras, streaked across the turbulent sea toward her.
"Coming from the direction of the harbor... Glorious Kingdom people? Did they discover the shipwreck?"
Gazing at the rapidly approaching witches with eyes glowing a deep, vivid scarlet, Seraphine shook her head and spoke coldly: "It doesn't matter. They've arrived just in time."
With that, she slowly opened her mouth and unleashed a sudden, violent roar at the oncoming group.
BOOM!!!
In a flash, a visible black sonic wave shot forth, striking toward the unsuspecting witches in a concentrated, unwavering line.
The black sonic wave traversed tens of thousands of meters in a flash, instantly engulfing the white-robed witches.
In an instant, their world collapsed into chaotic, blurred fragments. Left became up, down became back, and front became right. With every passing millisecond, their sensory directions randomized again and again.
Accompanying this distorted perception, every deep-seated memory of hate or love, family or foe, manifested before them. These phantoms unleashed the witches' own most terrifying trump-card Witchcraft, consuming their internal mana to strike back at them.
In the real world.
CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK!!
With a series of violent explosions, the witches frozen in mid-air inexplicably erupted with intense mana fluctuations, as if they were beating themselves to death. In a heartbeat, the entire group was annihilated.
"Those with fragile minds..."
Seraphine watched the dozen witches, whose flesh had dissolved and souls shattered in an instant, fall into the sea as mangled corpses. She spoke coldly: "Do not deserve to possess power."
In truth, that attack—the "Sound of Mournful Hate"—had no specific formula, ritual, or incantation. It was merely Seraphine playing with the essence of Realm of Phantasm: the unified manipulation of mana, information, and Tachyons.
Because of the existence of faster-than-light Tachyons, the transmission of power and information within the Realm of Phantasm is incredibly swift, far exceeding that of the physical universe. A single blink can span trillions of miles. This speed fluctuates easily based on a being's spiritual consciousness and influence.
Therefore, Seraphine only needs to think, and even a flick of her finger can strike distant regions. If she desires it, she can perceive information from across the horizon.
Seraphine stood suspended in the infinite sky with her hands clasped behind her, shaking her head with a sigh:
"The beings living within this Realm of Phantasm truly have no understanding of how to wield this power."
She believed that.
In a sense, the Realm of Phantasm is a space-time domain of information "disguised" as a material world. The precision of this "disguise" even reaches the level of elementary particles.
In other words, any existence whose perceptual abilities do not reach the particle level cannot perceive the true nature of the Realm of Phantasm.
Those capable of such sensory precision are known as High Sages in the physical universe, or Archaic Myths within the Realm of Phantasm. Only these lifeforms standing at the pinnacle of reality and illusion are qualified to perceive and touch the fundamental composition and essential structure of the Realm of Phantasm.
But Seraphine ( Divided Attention ) is an exception.
Currently, although her combat power and life level merely reach the "strong" City-Destroying rank, Seraphine ( Divided Attention ) has prematurely accessed a domain that only "weak" Galactic-level powerhouses like High Sages and Archaic Myths can touch.
This immediately grants her the combat strength to sweep through the Resplendent Moon rank and even duel those of the Shining Sun rank, despite being only at the Morningstar level.
"Glorious Kingdom."
Seraphine looked toward the coastline stretching thousands of miles away and suddenly smiled, "Since you are so close to me, let us say hello."
As she spoke, the vast, undulating surface of the sea below suddenly sprouted millions of pitch-black plant roots.
These were products Seraphine created by condensing materialized hatred upon the underlying informational structure of the Realm of Phantasm. In other words, she can now use ethereal emotions or thoughts to construct "real" matter layer by layer from the microscopic level.
That is, turning void into reality.
The hateful emotions and thoughts flowing everywhere in the world provide Seraphine with a continuous, inexhaustible supply of "materials." Every atom and molecule, as long as she wills it, can be easily constructed.
CRACK CRACK CRACK!
The countless black roots growing from the sea rapidly converged, suddenly blooming into massive flower buds the size of sports stadiums.
In an instant, nearly a hundred gigantic, black-and-red eyes appeared upon the vast sea, a sight that would make anyone's blood run cold.
"Fury Poison King Cannon."
Seraphine lightly raised her hand, controlling the hundred giant flower buds below to aim at the coastline a thousand miles away. She smiled softly, "Open fire."
All the buds slowly tilted upward and burst open, rapidly ejecting massive, pitch-black spheres reaching a hundred meters in diameter.
CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK!!
The first black sphere shot forth at tens of Mach. In just over twenty seconds, it crossed the thousand-mile distance, trailing layers of flames as it descended from the heavens, thundering toward the bustling harbor of the Glorious Kingdom.
The combination of massive mass and extreme velocity made the kinetic energy carried by the black sphere simply terrifying beyond measure.
Because the attack was so swift, the citizens of the Holy Sword Sun at the harbor only had time to raise their bewildered faces for one final look at the sky.
That single glance was the end of their lives.
BOOM!!!
Before the eyes of countless shocked people, the black sphere—erupting with fierce fire like a dark sun—instantly struck the earth.
At this moment, air, seawater, rock, and all other matter 'melted' into terrifying light and heat.
The entire harbor and a vast expanse of land were tragically transformed into a sea of scorching, blazing light.
Even more horrifyingly, the black sphere that achieved the first kill did not end its journey. It continued to leap and roll forward, collapsing several more regions before finally losing its kinetic energy, wedging its mangled 'body' into a mountain range two thousand miles away from the original harbor.
As the impact ceased, a mechanism within the black sphere was triggered. The massive amount of hateful emotions it had absorbed along its path of slaughter suddenly erupted, detonating the sphere.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
BOOM!!!
In an instant, the area for hundreds of miles shook with terror.
This majestic mountain range, stretching tens of thousands of miles like a winding dragon, was snapped in two by the explosion, tragically becoming a maimed dragon.
Simultaneously, the nearly one hundred black spheres trailing slightly behind also struck, covering hundreds of thousands of miles of the Glorious Kingdom’s territory.
In an instant, amidst these heaven-shaking and earth-shattering continuous explosions, hundreds of massive cities were destroyed in a flash, and the remains of hundreds of millions of living beings vanished completely.
In a short span of time, an endless torrent of hatred flooded nearly half of the Glorious Kingdom’s territory.
Amidst this apocalyptic scene, Seraphine, appearing as a demon lord, crossed the thousand-mile sea and descended upon this wailing, scorched earth.
"How marvelous."
Seraphine half-closed her eyes, silently sensing the thoughts of destruction lingering in the world. Her realm, previously stagnant at the early Morningstar stage, began to soar once again.
Suddenly, dozens of witches radiating powerful Morningstar auras flew in from all directions. Consumed by a rage that threatened to explode, they unleashed their strongest Witchcraft against her.
"It was just a greeting. Why are you all so agitated?"
As her soft words reached their ears, they ignited a fierce, inner fire within the souls of the Morningstar witches.
WHOOSH!
Pitch-black flames erupted from within their souls, instantly incinerating their spirits and spreading through their physical bodies. Without even a chance to scream, the witches disintegrated in mid-air, falling as charred lumps of flesh.
The destruction did not end there.
Within the corpses, the organs, flesh, and bones softened and collapsed at an incredible speed. Ultimately, every witch was reduced to a puddle of black blood emitting glowing flames.
This was a fundamental ability of Seraphine’s Bodhisattva of Radiance cultivation: Malice Core Overheat.
The weak must maintain absolute humility in her presence. They cannot harbor hate, nor can they remain angry. Otherwise, their own malice acts as fuel, using their internal mana to instantly ignite their soul and body. This invisible demonic fire does not affect physical objects, but it ruthlessly forces every cell and organ toward irreversible death, leaving behind only boiling, foul gore.
To resist this demonic fire ignited from the depths of the soul, one must possess an extremely high life tier, master absolute control over their flesh and soul at a microscopic level to sever the connection, or wield enough vitality to smother the flames.
For the weak, there is only the path of violent death.
At this moment, Seraphine’s soaring perception detected a faint ripple completely alien to the Realm of Phantasm—a material wave.
In this realm, matter is essentially information disguised as particles, much like intelligent NPCs in a massive open-world game; they possess Spirituality, but remain informational lifeforms. However, this emerging ripple clearly originated from true matter and actual elementary particles.
"So? A lifeform from the material world has actually reached Ansel?"
She slowly turned her head, gazing toward a point ten thousand miles away. That direction led straight to the fleet's destination—the Sea of Blood.
"Interesting. I wonder who it could be?"
Seraphine immediately employed a dozen types of Gendaya divination, prediction, and prophetic Witchcraft to calculate the identity and number of these Outsiders at the Sea of Blood. Mysterious and profound spiritual lights and mana fluctuations radiated from her body.
During this process, several more Morningstar witches attacked. Yet, all tragically self-combusted before they could even draw near, melting into puddles of black blood.
After a while, the spiritual light dissipated. Seraphine had successfully extracted all the information regarding the Outsiders located within the Sea of Blood.
BOOM!!!
Tapping into her unfathomable wisdom, Seraphine merged dozens of top-tier ancient Gendaya prophetic arts into a single Secret Art Ritual Array. Upon its formation, tens of thousands of materialized, mystical runes and ritual sigils converged around her, erupting into vast clouds of grey mist that swept across hundreds of miles of sky and earth like a nuclear shockwave.
The world turned hazy and hollow, veiled by the vast fog. Suddenly, a desolate and majestic horn blast, sounding as if it came from the dawn of time to question fate and karma, echoed through the air.
WOOOO!!!!
Amidst the low, coarse, and unending horn blasts, the chanting of thousands of women suddenly arose. Their voices, ranging from soft whispers to piercing screams, intertwined and grew in volume until they merged into an ancient, profound eulogy. This chant sounded hollow and eerie, yet it carried a heavy intent of praising life, the universe, and time.
As the earth shook violently under the weight of the horns and hymns, Seraphine, looking every bit the Purgatory Demon Lord, slowly raised her head. The moment she did, her crimson eyes, larger than a human's, recessed into pitch-black voids, transforming into two bottomless abysses capable of devouring all the world's secrets.
The appearance of these two micro-abysses caused the surrounding world to twist and tremble violently, as if they were about to pierce through time and space to consume an unknown, infinitely deep domain.
WHOOSH WHOOSH WHOOSH!!!
As the Secret Art reached its zenith, thunder roared and hurricanes howled, as if a ritual this terrifying simply should not exist. In Seraphine's vision, the hundreds of miles of scorched earth, the vast oceans, and the heavy clouds, everything obstructing her sight, became transparent and faded away.
BUZZ!!!
Two invisible and terrifying gazes shot forth from Seraphine’s blood-cracked eye sockets. These gazes did not follow a straight line; instead, they exploded outward, sweeping across all angles and directions toward the four horizons and eight heavens.
Their speed was so great that in a single thought, the vast regions of half the Ansel world, from the high heavens to the nine underworlds, were completely covered by Seraphine’s mysterious vision.
In an instant, the rolling mountains, winding rivers, countless towns, and infinite beings spanning tens of thousands of miles were all reflected within her abyss-like pupils.
Seraphine had no interest in this mundane data. She scanned the world with cold indifference before focusing her gaze exclusively on the islands bordering the Sea of Blood to find the Outsiders emitting the material waves.
Across the vast Ansel world, countless witches specializing in divination and possessing sensitive souls were caught off guard and struck with sheer terror by her glance. Thousands of witches leaped to their feet, staring around in panic, their calm replaced by trembling shock.
The force that had just practically torn through the River of Karma from the profound void was simply too violent. Historically, peering into fate and karma was a delicate task, requiring cautious touch and careful deduction. Never had there been a force so savage and outrageous.
"Terrifying, terrifying!"
"Who did this?!"
"What kind of power is this?"
"Which ancient monster is observing fate?"
Meanwhile, at the outskirts of the Glorious Kingdom, Seraphine, who had caused this massive panic with a single glance, was also caught in surprise.
"Oh? Even with such a powerful prediction art, I cannot see the origins of these few people?" Seraphine murmured, her eyes black as the abyss. "This causal isolation feels like a space-time fracture. What kind of entity could completely sever the origins of these four little ants, leaving them as a void? Fine, if I cannot verify your specific origins, I will look at you from a different angle."
At that moment, hundreds of thousands of miles away from the Glorious Kingdom's coastline, Dueng’s group had breached the Bone Chalice Church and the Blood Steel Tunnel. Carrying the Blood of Sorrow and Blood Steel ore, they boarded their laser UFO and were racing toward their next destination.
During the flight, Suhan briefed the team on their next challenge, the Corpse Amusement Park:
"The Grandma Wolf we seek never leaves the park, but she won't stay in one place either. Records say she is extremely fast and eccentric, wandering randomly between different areas and attractions."
"Grandma Wolf?"
In the UFO control room, Qunce asked lazily, leaning her chin on her hand, "If there's a Grandma Wolf, is there also a Little Red Riding Hood?"
"Ah, you're right," Suhan snapped his fingers and smiled. "Legend says this Grandma Wolf is the very wolf that successfully devoured Little Red Riding Hood. The data indicates it remains hunched and curled up, wearing Little Red Riding Hood’s skin and clothes."
"Oh?" Qunce said, intrigued. "This actually connects back to fairy tales?"
"That’s... hard to say." Suhan rubbed the Jewish symbol on his brow. "In the 《The Legend of Ansel》 lore collection, Grandma Wolf has a specific origin: she is one of the shattered obsessions of the Flare Star, Bourdieu."
Upon hearing 'Flare Star,' Dueng, who had been quietly smoking a cigar, suddenly spoke: "A Flare Star’s challenge rating is at least 21-star. If Grandma Wolf is related to him, won't this trip be dangerous?"
"It’s possible, but the probability is extremely low." Suhan shook his head. "Obsession entities like Grandma Wolf, split from the Flare Star, number in the hundreds or thousands across the Sea of Blood’s islands. Unless too many die in a short time to draw his attention, killing two or three is usually fine. As a psychic user myself, I know these obsessions are essentially 'hollow things'; they regenerate shortly after being destroyed."
"Hmm, strange." Dueng bit his cigar, his thick brows furrowing. "I'm no expert on the mind or spirit, but if it's 'something' from a Flare Star, why wouldn't he care?"
"It’s related to his origin," Suhan said, fiddling with his laptop. "Unlike other Shining Sun deities in Ansel who originated from humans or other races, the Flare Star Bourdieu is peculiar. He attained godhood as a vengeful spirit born from the tragic death of a human child. Thus, his soul power and willpower are far stronger than others. To him, Grandma Wolf is like a discarded fingernail clipping."
"A child? A vengeful spirit? Fingernail clipping?" Dueng and Qunce exchanged looks. Loneng remained crouched in the corner playing Marugami, completely indifferent.
"The lore records that long ago, in the far north of Ansel, there was a Shining Sun deity called the God of Joy.
This deity absorbed power from people’s happiness and delight. Consequently, his kingdom was filled with countless amusement parks, circuses, theaters, and zoos: and of course, red-light districts.
In one of the world's largest playgrounds, Bourdieu’s father, Old Tom, used the money he’d saved from years of working as a circus clown to open a modest haunted house. Though not wealthy, the father and son lived a peaceful, happy life.
"But in that massive amusement park, there wasn't just one haunted house; there were dozens.
As isolated outsiders, the father and son were frequently bullied by their competitors. These owners would tell tourists that Old Tom’s haunted house was boring and pointless. Consequently, their business struggled, and their lives remained impoverished."
Suhan pulled up several images related to the Corpse Amusement Park on his laptop and continued, "So, Old Tom came up with an idea: he had his nine-year-old son, Bourdieu, dress as a ghost to scare the visitors."
"Oh~" Qunce grinned. "That's an interesting idea."
"Yes, and it actually improved their business for a while."
Suhan glanced at the blood-mist clouds streaking past the UFO’s windows. "But the good times didn't last. The competitors caught on and mimicked the tactic. Not satisfied with just stealing the business, they devised a sinister plan.
They pooled their money to hire a group of thugs to visit Old Tom’s haunted house. These men were instructed to act overly panicked when Bourdieu scared them, using the confusion as an excuse to tackle him to the ground and beat him mercilessly.
By the time Old Tom realized something was wrong and rushed inside, his nine-year-old son was dead. Bourdieu had been beaten to death; his face was crushed, and his eyes had burst."
Suhan sighed. "The thugs vanished into the crowd. They were homeless drifters from out of town, making them nearly impossible to track. Given the chaotic nature of the incident, the instigators could simply claim ignorance; even if caught, they'd likely only pay a small fine.
The trauma drove Old Tom insane. He closed the haunted house and spent every night wandering the park, calling his son’s name. A few years later, he disappeared."
"And then Bourdieu became a vengeful spirit..." Qunce narrowed her eyes. "And came back for revenge?"
"Exactly. A few years later, Old Tom reappeared, looking revitalized and somehow possessing a vast fortune. His son, Bourdieu, also returned: still looking like the eight-year-old child he was, not having aged a day.
The other haunted house owners were terrified and stayed away from them. But months later, they saw that Old Tom’s business was not only normal but growing rapidly, beginning to dominate their trade."
Suhan adjusted the UFO’s flight path to autopilot and turned back to continue. "So, the haunted house owners tried their old tricks again, hiring another group of drifters to cause trouble. But everyone they sent disappeared without a trace.
Soon after, the owners themselves were found dead in their homes. When discovered, their bodies looked as if they had been dead for a long time, covered in bloody, bone-deep bite marks: the bite marks of a nine-year-old child.
Rumors spread that Bourdieu had become a vengeful ghost. Amidst the terrifying whispers, that amusement park was eventually abandoned. The townspeople also began dying mysteriously, and the entire area gradually became a wasteland.
Many, many years later, upon those ruins, a terrifying Corpse Amusement Park appeared."
As he spoke, the UFO began to decelerate until it came to a halt.
They had arrived at the Corpse Amusement Park.
"Oh? We're here." Suhan turned, steered the UFO to a slow landing.
As they stepped out and took in the scene within the park, all four were stunned.
"This is just... like a slasher film studio," Qunce stammered.
Before them stood a massive roller coaster spanning hundreds of meters. It was constructed from thousands of blood-stained, yellowed skeletons twisted together, interwoven with millions of dust-covered, twitching scarlet intestines and rusted iron scraps: stark and silent, as if waiting for its next brave challenger.
To their left, a three-hundred-meter-tall spiral mountain of corpses was in constant operation. It was composed entirely of mangled, bloody human bodies twisted into spinning "meat seats," rotating endlessly as it functioned.
To their right, a "living" drop tower, constructed from rusted steel and mutated flesh, walked slowly. It had no eyes, ears, or mouth: only two hundred-meter-long legs connected by a pelvis the size of a house.
CACKLE CACKLE CACKLE CACKLE!!
From the dark depths of the amusement park, a series of sharp, hideous shrieks echoed, accompanied by the heavy thud of hooves striking the ground. It was enough to make one shudder.
WHOOSH!!
A gust of wind carried a stench of blood so foul it made them want to gag, causing them to frown.
Suhan stepped forward, his expression grave. "In a place this twisted, I think we should scout first."
With that, his eyes turned white as he released a massive surge of psychic power to sweep over the park.
But at that moment, an icy psychic force that seemed to have been lying in wait suddenly appeared in Suhan’s perception.
"What's happening? Who is it?!" Suhan was shocked beyond words.
This force completely ignored his solid psychic defenses, piercing through layer after layer to instantly dive into the depths of his mind. Immediately upon entry, it infiltrated every part of his body: from his internal organs to his nerves and bone marrow, and even... into his hundreds of millions of cells.
"Interesting. Psychic power born from DNA-level mutation? Hmm, and some nanomachines... ah, and quite a few cybernetic plug-ins. Haha, your 'human' percentage is less than 50%."
A voice echoed within Suhan’s mind.
"The power expressed by your genes and your appearance remind me of someone... Yuri from Red Alert."
"Red Alert? You know Red Alert?!" Suhan screamed in his mind, unable to believe it. "Who exactly are you?"
The voice didn't answer his question, but continued its own musing: "An existence from outside the Realm of Phantasm, with genes that feel heavily engineered and a massive amount of android plug-ins... I suddenly have a suspicion.
Are you... from Divine Space, or something similar?"
"You, you, you..." Suhan was speechless with shock.
