Chapter Seventy-Three: The Malevolent Beast

Hall of the Gods.

Within the golden projection cast by the Primordial Stone Tiles, the Blood God Beast turned its blood-red eyes, sweeping a cold gaze over all the heavens and worlds, as if it could see the gods peering through the Hall of the Gods to spy on the monstrous beast army.

With a cold sneer, the Blood God Beast unleashed the sea of blood and murderous clouds swirling around its body, erupting suddenly and surging toward the Western Wasteland like a tidal wave.

Boom!

The golden screen flickered abruptly, now showing only the Western Wasteland shrouded in endless blood-red clouds.

Clearly, the Fiend Emperor had already strengthened the Western Wasteland’s defenses, cutting off the Primordial races’ surveillance.

Staring at the blood clouds on the screen, Nanluo remained calm, withdrawing his divine sense and dispelling the projection from the Primordial Stone Tiles.

“Honored ones, the beasts are about to launch a great invasion of the Primordial Lands and target the myriad races. I wonder if any of you have devised a strategy?”

Seated upon the Throne of All Gods, bathed in radiant gold, Nanluo’s golden eyes swept over the gods as he spoke with serene authority.

After a period of silence, the gods were no longer as panicked as when they first heard of the monstrous beasts. Their expressions were grave, contemplative, each deep in thought.

Since the calamity of the beasts could not be avoided, one must flow with the tides of fate and find advantage in the smaller currents.

“Your Majesty, to devise a strategy, we must first discern the beasts’ target. The Western Wasteland borders the Central, Northern, and Southern Wastelands. Which region will they strike first?”

Fang Yan, God of Letters, dressed in snow-white robes, spoke calmly.

“The Central Wasteland is home to the Unmeasured Mountain, which suppresses the beasts’ power. They will not attack there first.

“The Southern Wasteland harbors the Phoenix and Titan Clans, both formidable enough to oppose them. The beasts will not open their campaign there, either.

“The Northern Wasteland is chaotic, lacking any great power to resist the beasts. They could sweep through it swiftly.

“In my view, the beasts will strike the North first,” said Wu Po Tian, God of Martial Ways, clad in blood-tinged armor, his tone even.

The gods nodded in agreement with the Martial God’s assessment, all save for the lofty Nanluo, the unfathomable Miaoyan, and the wise Fang Yan.

Fang Yan, in flowing white, lightly fanned himself, a mysterious smile playing on his lips, exuding absolute confidence. He chuckled, “Martial God, your view is mistaken. Tactically, the beasts should do as you say—but strategically, they ought to seize the Southern Wasteland first.”

“Oh?” The gods turned to Fang Yan in surprise, their faces startled.

“What is the difference between tactics and strategy?” Wu Po Tian, fixing Fang Yan with a cold gaze, felt none of the other’s profundity, only his self-satisfaction, and repressed his irritation as he asked in a flat tone.

“Tactics concerns local gains and losses; strategy concerns the fate of the whole,” Fang Yan replied, lightly fanning himself.

“Well said!” The gods were startled by his insight, each secretly acknowledging the wisdom.

Even the ever-proud Wu Po Tian found himself at a momentary loss for words.

For a time, silence reigned in the Hall of the Gods.

“Pray tell, why would the beasts seize the Southern Wasteland first? Lord Fang Yan, please enlighten us,” Lord Miaoyan broke the silence with a gentle smile.

High above, Nanluo took in the scene, approving of Miaoyan’s timely intervention.

Miaoyan—truly one fit for great responsibility!

Catching Miaoyan’s seemingly calm yet profoundly deep golden gaze, Fang Yan quickly responded with a smile, “You flatter me, Lord Miaoyan; I dare not presume!”

Of all the gods, except for Nanluo, whose power and destiny were supreme, Fang Yan respected none but the unfathomably wise Miaoyan.

“Tactically, the beasts could indeed swiftly subdue the chaotic and weak Northern Wasteland, expanding their territory and power. But strategically, this would only give the Primordial races time to unite and prepare.

“Facing a wary and united front, the beasts would pay a hundredfold price to conquer the races, perhaps even suffer defeat.”

Wu Po Tian frowned. “And what if they strike the Southern Wasteland first?”

“If the beasts seize the Southern Wasteland, they will wipe out the Phoenix and Titan Clans, removing two great threats. Of the Primordial races, there are only five major powers: Dragons, Phoenix, Lions, Titans, and Qilin. With two gone, even if the other three join forces, defeating the beasts would be a nearly impossible task.

“Thus, I believe the beasts will move on the Southern Wasteland first.”

Fang Yan looked at the other gods, finally turning to Nanluo and bowing respectfully.

Nanluo nodded slightly, admiring Fang Yan’s wisdom, and declared with authority, “Indeed, as Fang Yan deduced, the beasts have already marched against the Southern Wasteland!”

“Oh? How does Your Majesty know this?”

The gods, already awed by Fang Yan’s insight, were now astonished that Nanluo had learned the beasts’ objective.

If the Fiend Emperor had not severed all external surveillance of the Western Wasteland, tracking the beasts’ movements would be easy. But now, with all eyes blinded, how had Nanluo discerned their target?

Nanluo extended his right hand, a beam of golden light shooting from his fingertip to the projection screen of the Primordial Stone Tiles.

Instantly, the projection narrowed to the Ten Thousand Mountains of the Southern Wasteland, where hundreds of red dots appeared.

These red dots were swiftly infiltrating the Ten Thousand Mountains.

“These red dots are assassins from the House of Shadows,” Nanluo said calmly upon his throne.

The gods’ golden eyes widened, their brows furrowing in confusion. What were the assassins doing in the Southern Wasteland’s mountains?

“The House of Shadows has another identity: it is the assassination arm of the beasts, controlled by the Dread Lord Wusha, tasked with eliminating the strongest of all races.”

Nanluo’s golden eyes remained as sacred and imposing as ever, yet deep within them flickered a trace of concealed dread.

“What?” The God of Devouring, Devourer Prime, his plump face contorted in shock, cried out.

Not only Devourer Prime, but all the gods stared wide-eyed, incredulous.

The impact of this revelation, even to such seasoned immortals, was no less than a spiritual tempest.

“How could this be?!” A chill surged through the gods, freezing them to the marrow.

For a hundred millennia, the House of Shadows had slain countless champions of all races, and yet it was the beasts’ own assassination force.

Thinking of the myriad lives lost to the House of Shadows over the ages, the gods could not help but picture the bloodthirsty, towering Blood God Beast, to whom millions of monsters submitted.

What a ruthless beast race! What a merciless Fiend Emperor!

The gods could scarcely imagine the terror that would engulf the world should this secret ever be revealed.