Chapter Forty-Two: Situ Hong, The Path to Divinity

A profound silence fell.

Lin Fan’s voice echoed across the shattered battlefield.

For a moment, Elder Dao Wanqian, Mister Mo Buzhi, Xing Ye, and the others stood wide-eyed, their faces filled with disbelief.

“That… is it over already?” Wang Hu, who had just blocked a blow with his own body and was now wracked with pain, stared fixedly at the decapitated corpse of Jiang Chen.

It was all so sudden.

Everyone had fought desperately, combining their strength in a final assault, each of them drained to their limits. Then, just as Jiang Chen’s aura, previously withered, suddenly surged—like the awakening of a final boss—the group readied themselves for an even harder battle. Yet Lin Fan, with a single strike, cleaved the resurgent Jiang Chen in two.

This… this simply defied all reason!

Wasn’t this supposed to be the part where they, united in purpose, paid a heavy price to finally defeat this foe bit by bit?

“What are you all standing around for?” Lin Fan frowned. “Are you waiting for me to hand out certificates? Move!”

Instantly, at Lin Fan’s words, the members of the First Squad of the Godslayers—Dao Wanqian, Mo Buzhi, Xing Ye, and the rest—snapped out of their daze. They stared at the headless corpse of Jiang Chen. There was no doubt.

It was over.

The legendary Jiang Chen was dead—irretrievably dead.

And this youth, this boy, had slain the Corpse King with a single stroke.

At once, every gaze fell upon the slender figure standing by the corpse, sword sheathed at his side. Though his frame was lean, he radiated an overwhelming presence—a force as sharp as a blade, as domineering as thunder.

“At last, the battle is done,” Dao Wanqian sighed, relief in his voice.

In this moment, the threat was gone.

But whether among the First Squad or the evacuated workers, not a soul could find it in themselves to smile.

For the sight before them was too heartrending.

Broken bodies lay strewn across the ground, the earth stained with fresh blood—all of them so young.

These were newly enlisted soldiers, their lives cut short on the very day they began, their faces still bright with hope for the future.

Did any of them, when they signed up with such excitement, ever imagine their end would come so swiftly, so cruelly?

But even if they had known, they would still have chosen this path.

For on those stiff, youthful faces, there lingered a smile—one without regret.

No remorse.

Suddenly, a wild wind howled through the world, abrupt and violent.

It was as if countless voices wailed in the void.

No regrets for joining Great Xia in this life! In the next, I would be a son of Xia again!

Such is the soldier of Great Xia.

Even if they served but for a day, they were true soldiers—worthy of their homeland.

They did not betray Great Xia.

They had no regrets.

And among all the bodies, not one belonged to a worker.

Those raw recruits, enlisted for only a single day, had given their lives to protect the laborers.

And the veterans led by Situ Hong, driving their armed vehicles battered and ablaze, had charged at Jiang Chen without hesitation, without regret.

This battle, the First Squad of the Godslayers had won.

Yet no one could bring themselves to laugh.

The scene before them hung over their hearts like a pall of grief.

“Remember this moment,” Lin Fan said, his voice low. “You have witnessed the enemy’s strength.”

“This is no ordinary foe.”

“I can tell you, the gods we will face in the future will be a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand times stronger than this prematurely awakened Jiang Chen.”

“There will be more sacrifices.”

“But if we don’t give our all, if we don’t fight with everything we have, one day all of Great Xia will look just like this—corpses strewn everywhere!”

At that instant—

“I’ll kill you!”

A furious roar came from behind.

Situ Hong, her eyes bloodshot and wild like a beast, gripped her shattered military blade in both hands and, dragging her wounded body, staggered toward Jiang Chen’s corpse.

In this battle, she had witnessed the deaths of countless young soldiers with her own eyes.

She had seen her battle-hardened comrades, men who had fought by her side, drive their armed vehicles headlong into the invincible Corpse King, as if on a one-way charge to death.

She had watched as those veterans threw themselves at the monster, wrestling with Jiang Chen with their very lives.

Now, she wanted to tear that Corpse King apart, to avenge her fallen soldiers.

But—

She had not yet reached the corpse before—

Bang!

Lin Fan moved like lightning, kicking Situ Hong several meters back.

“Do you have a death wish?” Lin Fan seized her as she tried to rise, his voice ringing out. “You haven’t practiced the Godslayer Demonbane Art. If you get close, you’ll be infected—turned into a zombie!”

Situ Hong glared at Lin Fan, tears of rage in her eyes. “Why? Why did you only come now?”

At this moment, fury over her comrades’ deaths had clouded her reason.

This young female commander, known throughout the army as the “Ice Demoness” for her cold, unyielding demeanor, had always been harsh with her subordinates.

But in truth—

She only wanted to ensure no soldier died on the field from neglect or laziness in training.

No one could understand the agony of watching one’s comrades fall before their eyes.

“You were the commander!”

“Why did you come so late?”

“Why!”

With a sudden cry, Situ Hong drove her broken blade toward Lin Fan.

In that moment, the blade flashed like lightning, slicing through the air with a chilling gleam.

Lin Fan’s expression changed. He hurriedly raised his scabbard to block—but the instant they met, the scabbard shattered!

Shattered!

The force behind that blow forced Lin Fan, now half a step from godhood, back several paces, a metallic taste rising in his mouth.

“She… she’s awakened the path of the Wargod!” Lin Fan stared at Situ Hong in astonishment.

For a human to become a god, one must either seize a god’s divinity by force, or walk the path to godhood.

The former was not impossible—it merely required slaying a god and taking their divinity.

The latter, however, was infinitely more difficult. It demanded a profound upheaval of the heart.

It was the true path of apotheosis—a mortal becoming a god through their own body and will.

No need to borrow divine power from outside; to become a god by one’s own hand was a path far more formidable than seizing divinity.

And now, before him, Situ Hong, having witnessed the massacre of her comrades, had awakened this very path.

“No… this isn’t right,” Lin Fan’s thoughts raced. “Situ Hong was supposed to awaken her Wargod’s path three months after the Sea God’s invasion—half a year from now. History has changed again!”

In a flash, Lin Fan understood.

His early preparations, his construction of the Iron Wall, had disturbed the still-dormant, weakened Jiang Chen, causing him to awaken ahead of schedule. This, in turn, forced Situ Hong to witness her soldiers’ deaths and step onto the path of godhood earlier than fate intended.

And once the path is completed, she will transcend the mortal coil forever.

Moreover, the path of the Wargod—the one Situ Hong now walks—is a rarity even in the divine realm.

A weapon infused with the power of the Wargod can slay even gods themselves.