Chapter 339: The Master of All Endings

This was a day destined to be recorded in the annals of history as a dark day.

Black gates floating in the air appeared like portals to hell, from which boundless deathly auras rolled out, covering the skies and plunging the world into a reign of darkness.

Wherever the breath of death touched, rivers dried up, and flowers and grasses withered.

Even the mountains gradually succumbed to death, their rocks slowly turning into gray-white dust.

Accompanying these sights was an endless, ocean-like legion of darkness.

Liches, skeletons, zombies, burning skulls, gargoyles, and undead dragons. Countless undead creatures formed the bulk of this legion, but there were also human spellcasters, orcs, and even elves among its ranks.

These were the followers and minions of the Master of All Endings.

Among them were several demigods, leading the legion of death, taking direct orders from the god of death.

This king of the walking dead was not undeservedly renowned; his army was capable of destroying both the Netheril Empire and the Felin domain at once, surpassing the powers of this prime material world in both elite force and overall strength.

And these forces were but a part of the death god's full military might.

Beyond that, the lands of Felin began to tremble, especially in graveyards and desolate hills.

It seemed as if something beneath the soil was struggling, moving. After a moment, the ground burst open, revealing decayed bodies—some mere skeletons.

The dead returned from the realm of death, silently merging into the legion of death in an endless stream under countless horrified gazes.

"It has finally begun."

"This true war."

In the quiet canyon, the silver dragon lifted its head, looking towards the place where boundless deathly forces were gathering, its gaze narrowing at the portals strewn across the sky.

This scene in Ferun was now reminiscent of the dragon and elf war zones of the main timeline.

The divine army had precise targets and a vast scale. They generally did not strike at ordinary people, nor did they control the residual forces they unintentionally emitted. If you were affected, what else could you do but accept your fate?

Even Garon's canyon was not immune to the invasion of the power of death.

The once picturesque, bird-song-filled canyon was also enveloped by the aura of death, much of its scenery visibly withering and dying at an alarming rate.

This was the Master of All Endings unleashing his extraordinary divine power to transform Ferun's environment into a home field advantageous for his legion.

The mighty power of a deity is difficult to manifest in the prime material world.

But that does not mean it cannot show at all.

When a god, a deity with immense power, sets out to destroy a power in the prime material world, his wrath makes the entire world tremble.

"Teacher, it is indeed the Master of All Endings."

Karsus, also in the canyon, approached Garon, his voice deep.

"This deity led the Felin mages and Netheril to war."

"His hands are stained with the vivid blood of my Netheril's spellcasters."

As he spoke, Karsus's tone was calm, but Garon could see flames burning in his eyes—flames of anger, the great archmage's rage against the deity.

"Then, let's make Him pay the price."

The silver dragon looked down at Karsus.

"Karsus, my proud disciple, are you ready?"

Karsus nodded solemnly.

"I am fully confident in successfully casting the Deification Technique."

"Now I just wait for the Master of All Endings to be distracted, and I will make Him pay a painful price."

He spoke each word deliberately.

Garon nodded slightly, his massive body rising as his dragon wings slowly unfolded, a slight smile on his lips, "I have been dormant for too long, now it's time to stretch my limbs."

As he spoke, the magic network across Ferun shook violently.

Boundless elemental energies surged like tidal waves across the land, dispersing the relentless forces of death, and the darkened sky was restored to brightness.

At the same time, Netheril's spellcasters and the Felin mages of the Felin domain.

At this very moment, they were delighted to find that their connection to the magic network seemed deeper, allowing them to mobilize more elemental energy, simplifying the casting of spells and gaining greater power than before.

However, four portals guarded by demigods, connecting to the realm of death, still stood imposingly.

And once again, magical portals opened.

Naga, murlocs, orcs, elves, and human spellcasters of various races emerged from these portals, directly arriving at the borders of Netheril's land, silently guarding the area.

Troops from the Heart of Incantation, that is, the army

 of Missyrel's divine realm, descended.

Every soldier here was a spellcaster, standing in the sky and on the land, confronting the army of death from afar.

The divine decree of the goddess of magic also descended, stating that she would not ignore the unwarranted persecution of spellcasters and Felin mages by the Master of All Endings, as these two races included her own followers.

Called by the goddess of magic, many Felin mages and spellcasters rushed to the battlefield, standing with the army of Incantation.

During this time, the spellcasters were surprised to find some historically renowned but suddenly disappeared spellcasters among the ranks of the army of Incantation, having been absorbed into the goddess of magic's divine realm.

At the same time.

In one of the outer planes, the Gray Wasteland.

The realm of the death god, also known as the Underworld, was located in this plane.

Deep within a fortress built from countless bones.

Sitting on a throne made from the howling skulls of various creatures, the god of death opened his narrow, indifferent eyes.

His eyes were pitch black, without a hint of any other color.

Facing Him was like confronting the ultimate fear, the fear from the end of death.

His eyes reflected the death of all things.

Behind Him, a cloak moved as if alive, covering most of His body, only showing those pitch-black eyes. One of His hands rested on a thick register, the other holding a quill dripping with ink, as if He was writing something.

"Missyrel, are you going to be my enemy for the sake of a mortal empire?"

In the bone fortress, the Master of All Endings' chilling presence was palpable, but His voice, devoid of emotion, sounded almost like a murmur, echoing and spreading far and wide.

"Hehe, you say the spellcasters are your followers?"

"A bunch of arrogant, godless spellcasters, since when did they become your followers?"

The Master of All Endings seemed to have received a response.

He sat on the skull throne, one hand lifting to prop His head, continuing in a voice as cold as ice.

"So, no matter what, you want to help them withstand the end of death?"

The Master of All Endings slowly stood up.

His gaze was electric, piercing through endless space and planes, as if coming directly to the Heart of Incantation, meeting the resplendent goddess of magic face to face.

"Very well, Missyrel."

"Now let me see if your magic has improved over the years."

With that, the body of the Master of All Endings vanished from the Underworld.

Gods are virtually invincible in their own divine realms.

But gods do not fear leaving their divine realms; after all, they are never prisoners in their own realms, but supreme deities above all.

The Master of All Endings and the goddess of magic both left their divine realms.

In the next instant, these two mighty deities appeared in an infinite silver realm, within the Star Realm.

The deathly force that brings all things to their end, and the boundless magic capable of anything, erupted in this place, while the native inhabitants of the Star Realm skillfully ascended to various floating islands, trying to avoid the collateral damage caused by the battle of the gods.

Even so, every time deities fought in the Star Realm, it brought irreparable wounds to the inhabitants of this world.

But the inhabitants were used to it.

Because of the special nature of this plane, whether they were benevolent or malevolent, deities especially liked to battle here, unleashing their limitless power.

In the Star Realm, the battle of the gods began.

And as the gods clashed, the legions of the Master of All Endings and the army of the goddess of magic both received divine commands.

The Ferun continent, the prime material world that sparked the battle between these two mighty powers, reignited the flames of war, only slightly less intense than the wars between the Enther Empire and the orcish pantheon, arguably the second largest war in the history of this world.

Based around four portals from the realm of death.

The entire battlefield was divided into four main battle zones, with the legion of death and the army of Incantation fighting for their respective deities.

In the territory of Netheril, at the Dawn Mountains.

Above this mountain range, a portal to the realm of death floated, continuously delivering unending forces to the world of Ferun.

At the same time, a detachment of the army of Incantation, along with many great archmages and Felin mages, joined forces.

In the high skies, floating cities carried spellcasters who maneuvered among the clouds under the drive of magic, spellcasters from the army of Incantation hovered in midair, while on the ground and underground were the forces of the Felin mages.

In this battle zone, the legion of death

 had four demigods.

A death knight, a necromancer, an undead dragon, and a death demon wolf.

The strongest among the demigods was the undead dragon.

Being incorporeal, the undead dragon could avoid all physical attacks and was naturally immune to elemental energy damage below the legendary level. Combined with its powerful demi-godly force, it could roam freely across the vast battlefield.

From the Heart of Incantation, there were also demigods, entangling with the demigods of the legion of death.

At the same time, an ocean of undead surged, clashing nonstop with the army of Incantation, spellcasters, and Felin mages.

Boom!

It was like the light of dawn bursting on the horizon, endless brilliance momentarily purged tens of thousands of undead creatures, leaving a vacuum in the landscape.

A tenth-ring spell, Sunburst.

The first great archmage who developed this spell once destroyed a floating city with it, resulting in his own death.

High in a floating city, a great archmage exhaled, beginning to chant spells again, harnessing the power of the magic network, constructing spells.

With the support of the goddess of magic, this great archmage felt an unprecedented vitality in the magic network.

This environment was perfect for casting spells.

Dozens of floating cities surrounded the Dawn Mountains, spells from the archmages rained down from the sky, powerfully slaughtering swathes of undead creatures.

Fire, ice, sonic blasts, gravity, space—everything that constituted the world was a weapon for the archmages.

The soldiers of the army of Incantation were also spellcasters.

Together with the archmages, endless spells issued from the hands of the spellcasters.

The chanting of spells drowned out the undead creatures' roars and howls, the brilliant elemental lights as dazzling as the sun could blind the eyes of ordinary people.

Both the army of Incantation and the archmages performed well.

With the existence of the magic network, the world of Ferun, after all, was the home field of the goddess of magic and spellcasters; the legion of death was visibly losing ground here.

However, the performance of the Felin mages was somewhat lacking.

Their core ability was magic absorption, extremely effective against spellcasters but not as effective against other beings.

Since only a small portion of the soldiers in the legion of death were spellcasters, the Felin mages' abilities could not be fully utilized, leading to heavy casualties in a short time.

Then, under the guidance of the leaders of the army of Incantation and the great archmages.

The Felin mages reluctantly withdrew from the field, leaving the battlefield to the spellcasters and the undead.

Time quietly passed.

Spellcasters' magic crushed the ground and tore the heavens, the majority of the vast ocean-like legion of death was turned to dust, while the spellcasters suffered only minimal casualties.

However.

Just as the spellcasters thought they had easily won and were about to seal the portals.

A grey-black force of death swept through like a hurricane, passing over each undead creature reduced to dust.

A grave moment occurred for the spellcasters.

The shattered remains reassembled, the scattered flesh reformed, the legion of death that had been destroyed under their spells was reborn. The surrounding realm's force of death dimmed somewhat, but due to the presence of the portals, it was rapidly recovering over time.

The legion of death's frontal combat strength was not particularly strong.

But under the augmentation of the Master of All Endings' mighty power, they could nearly infinitely resurrect, returning from the realm of death.

As for the creatures that died under the wheels of the legion of death, they too would become its soldiers.

If it wasn't possible to quickly annihilate the entire legion of death, then over time, as one side waned and the other waxed, the legion of death would grow ever stronger, while its enemies would gradually weaken, until they lost all ability to resist.

By this time, some of the fallen spellcasters had risen, joining the legion of death, turning their blades against their former comrades.

The legion of the Master of All Endings, relying on its rather unscrupulous deathly power, was also among the most formidable of all divine armies.

After a month-long lockdown, today marks the lifting.

The author can't sit still any longer and is going out to have fun, so there's a little less written today. Tomorrow, expect a massive update.

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