My Mythical World - Chapter 19: Sacrifice of the World Tree, as the Heaven and Earth weep.

Jiang Ping marveled at the accumulated power of the human race over decades, witnessing the astonishing fusion of Earth’s technological prowess from the 19th century with the formidable might of their Dragon Cannons.   Contemplating the potential of this ancient human civilization being transported to the present world, Jiang Ping envisioned a formidable force capable of genuinely contending with modern armies in conventional warfare. With the integration of nuclear weapons and missiles on the battlefield, the outcome would become unpredictable.   In this relentless conflict between two forces, Jiang Ping, as the God of Creation, stood poised to emerge triumphant regardless of the victor. However, he harbored no intention of intervening, instead luxuriating upon the sofa, relishing the imminent clash of the ages while indulging in the remaining Elixir of life, its essence seeping through his senses.   In the Primordial world, the war had raged on for over three arduous years, leaving tens of thousands fallen.   In the escalating conflict, as the toll of casualties mounts on both sides, the lifeless bodies of voracious ants alone could encircle the entire globe a hundred times over. Meanwhile, a vast array of species, now transformed into a poignant testament of relentless bloodshed, blankets the earth in a chilling display of crimson.   Scarred and ravaged, desolate lands sprawled across the Earth, bearing witness to the profound madness that had engulfed both factions. The Dragon Cannons, refined and honed in a remarkably short span of time, required no lengthy calibration. Pushed onto the battlefield directly from the rear parlance, it unleashed ruthless bombardments upon the ocean of ant armies without a moment’s delay.   The Ten Thousand Races Alliance had suffered the loss of almost all their middle-aged warriors, turning the battlefields into abattoirs where shattered limbs soaked every inch of the ground. Each engagement site stood as a grim and merciless meat grinder, rending the hopes and dreams of countless combatants.   Surveying this harrowing mural of blood, Jiang Ping noticed the fragrance of the elixir in his hands had faded, his mind captivated by the infernal landscape unfolding before him. “There are no words more apt to describe the current battlefield than ‘hell’,” he mused, his voice resonating with a sense of somber realization.   Before him, the grand ballot of an era’s battle began to unfold, an epic tale meticulously transcribed for posterity.   Billions of creatures met their demise or suffered grievous wounds, their life tainted by boundless animosity and a murderous miasma that grew increasingly frenzied. As the source became corrupted, every creature harbored an insatiable thirst to slay their foes and obliterate everything in their path.   “Ah, are we approaching the end of our life?” Lahil, the divine tree, lamented, she ancient branches quivering as if echoing the weight of the ages. The pollution of the world’s source had caused it to wither and fade, her once-vibrant leaves turning a somber yellow, akin to a fading ember.   Suddenly, Wang Niya, the elven warrior who had recently perished in combat, materialized before Lahil. The divine tree recognized her as the one who had fallen alongside an ant hero not long ago.   Enduring countless deaths in battle, the consciousness of the previous six human Emperor had long dissipated, leaving only the flickering memories of Wang Niya’s past lives. Yet, even so, she continued to fight valiantly for the human race, driven by an indomitable resolve to keep sacrificing herself.   Such profound obsession lay embedded deep within her heart, an unyielding flame that refused to be extinguished.   Lahil sighed wistfully, her voice carrying the weight of countless eons. “I have witnessed the dawn of this world since the beginning of    time, bearing witness to the ebb and flow of existence and the emergence of God. I have experienced countless rebirths, all in the hope of seeing you again and returning to my ancestral abode, In heaven alongside the lord. ”   Buried ten thousand meters beneath the ground, Queen Bertha of the ant colony gazed vacantly into the void before erupting into a melodious laughter that resonated like silver bells. “Hehe, is this era finally reaching its denouement? So it was I who unveiled the curtain, hehehe!”   With affectionate eyes fixed upon her colossal abdomen, the queen gently caressed her swollen belly. “My offspring, it is time for your birth. Bring about the end of this era, decimate all races, and consume the Earth!” Her voice echoed with a commanding authority that sent shivers down the spines of all who heard it. In response, nine giant eggs emerged from her swollen form, bearing the promise of unimaginable devastation.   Soon after, nine peculiar ants wriggled their way out of the eggs, their newborn bodies radiating an aura that rivaled the mightiest monarchs of the era. And yet, they were but mere infants, bearing the potential to surpass the power of the gods themselves.   These extraordinary beings had been meticulously nurtured by Queen Bertha for half a century, combining the genetic material of thousands of different species, including that of the human race. Enhanced with specialized substances, each of them possessed unique attributes, their existence transcending mere species to become a formidable preeminent race, reminiscent of the interstellar Zerg in terms of power.   “From this moment forward, you shall be known as the Nine celestial wardens. Lead the entire army and initiate a final charge against the human race!” Bertha commanded with stern authority, prefixing their names with the divine title to signify her lofty expectations and the sheer terror they instilled.   The Nine celestial Wardens exchanged sinister grins, their eyes gleaming with a malevolence that sent chills down the spines of all who beheld them. Simultaneously, they surged toward the battlefield, galvanizing the entire ant army with their speed and overwhelming might. Their movements left behind phantom images in there wake, eluding even the keen vision of the queen ant herself.   With the intervention of the Nine celestial Wardens, the balance of the battlefield instantaneously shifted. Their strength and speed proved unparalleled, surpassing even the mightiest creatures shaped by the hands of gods. Their bodies blended invulnerably with various alloys, rendering them impervious to the head-on assaults of the Dragon Cannon, which could only leave superficial marks upon their indestructible forms.   Unleashing their overwhelming might, they effortlessly sundered mountains and rent the earth asunder with a mere flick of their limbs. With a single swing of their blades, they cleaved through the half-meter thick alloy of the Dragon Cannon, reducing it to nothing but shattered fragments.   In this moment of chaos and devastation, the formidable prowess and indomitable force of the Nine celestial wardens threatened to upturn the battle completely, leaving the fate of the battlefield hanging precariously in the balance.   The Alliance of Ten Thousand Races found themselves in a swift and harrowing retreat, witnessing the overwhelming defeat of 9/10 of the allied forces by the formidable Ant Clan. Even the once-mighty Elf Clan, known for their resilience and grace, was mercilessly vanquished by the divine guards, rendering their resurrections utterly futile.   At this critical juncture, it was the human race that bravely took charge, guiding all other races in a strategic retreat. Behind them lay the heart of the world—the sacred birthplace of humanity and the revered abode of the majestic Rahil, the sacred tree.   Ascending the battle-scarred high platform, The current Emperor of Humanity, renowned as the most formidable monarch in history, surpassed even Wuma, his forebearer, in martial prowess. Yet, in the face of such entity’s, he found himself bereft of power, a mere mortal against godlike foes.   Addressing the multitude of races gathered, Wang Qi’s voice filled with solemnity, carrying the weight of their desperate situation. “Fellow warriors, the encroaching ants advance relentlessly, and it appears that our fate is sealed this time.” The statement reverberated through the assembly, sending shockwaves across the monarchs of all clans. The despondent words echoed with a rare sense of resignation, a departure from his usual resolute tone.   Some whispered thoughts of surrender in the shadows, but they knew all too well that the devouring ants would show no mercy, even if they were to submit. It was precisely this understanding that bred staunch resistance within the hearts of all, their unwavering determination igniting like an unyielding flame.   Surveying the crowd, Wang Qi’s gaze pierced through the depths of their souls as he raised his voice, commanding attention. “My brethren, the human race possesses a supreme forbidden art—a solitary chance at victory.”   His eyes shifted towards the magnificent Lahil, the sacred tree, and his resolve hardened. His voice filled with grit, as if etched with the indomitable spirit of humanity. “The divine tree, Lahil, has granted my plea!”   The air in the room crackled with an electric mixture of curiosity and uncertainty as powerful beings from diverse races engaged in fervent discussions. Their minds were ablaze with questions, desperately seeking to unravel the intricate details of his plan and its connection to the World Tree. Yet, even the most sagacious monarchs furrowed their brows, haunted by a nagging query: why had this solution emerged only when their clans teetered on the edge of annihilation? The weight of the moment hung heavily, urging them to unravel the mysteries and grasp the last glimmer of hope before it slipped away forever.   The scene that followed sent shockwaves through the entire world, leaving countless races in awe. All eyes were fixed on the sacred tree, awaiting its revelation.   A resounding snap echoed in the world, interrupting the thoughts of Jiang Ping, the god of creation, as the empty bottle of elixir toppled over. Disbelief etched across his face as his gaze locked onto the sacred tree. “Sacrifice itself? She willingly sacrifices herself for the betterment of others.” Jiang Ping, felt a profound sorrow engulf his being, his heart heavy with grief. The small sapling he had personally planted emanated a resplendent tapestry of colors. Countless branches and leaves danced within the radiance before gracefully descending towards the awaiting king below.   In that fleeting moment, Jiang Ping envisioned the sapling’s tender sway, reminiscent of the distant past. Witnessing the self-sacrifice of the sacred tree, he felt as if a part of him had faded away—an emotion that defied temporal bounds, despite its recent birth.   Thousands of onlookers stood witness, their collective breaths held captive by the awe-inspiring spectacle. The colossal body of the world, towering at a height of nine kilometers, commenced its gradual disintegration, transforming into primordial energy that flowed into other living beings.   In this extraordinary moment, the radiance of the divine tree Lahil shimmered with breathtaking beauty, casting a spell of ethereal enchantment. Tears streamed down the faces of countless beings, as even the mesmerizing Jiang Ping stood awestruck, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.   Companion elves emerged from the disintegrating sacred tree, their graceful forms whirling around it in a farewell dance. With poignant grace, they bid their final farewell to the world they cherished, their movements imbued with elegance.   The mournful wails of the ten thousand races filled the air, a lament for the divine tree that had entwined itself with the fabric of heaven and earth. Sacrificing itself to preserve the world and safeguard the souls within, it transcended their mortal understanding, becoming a symbol of unparalleled selflessness.   Even the staunchest human warriors, who would endure the most grievous injuries without flinching, now wept uncontrollably. The sacred tree stood as their mother, sheltering the human race throughout history, and now it had perished for their sake, leaving them with an overwhelming sense of grief and indebtedness.   Tears welled in the eyes of Wang Qi, his voice choked with emotion, his words a testament to his people’s remorse. “We, the unworthy descendants, bear the shame of our forebears, for it is our actions that led to the sacrifice of the sacred tree. If fortune favors our survival in this battle, I vow to protect the sanctity of Lahil for eternity!”   The luminous aura of the divine tree enveloped all beings, akin to a tender mother’s touch, offering solace amidst the chaos. It brought unprecedented tranquility to their hearts, dispelling the looming dread of annihilation, a bittersweet comfort in their darkest hour.   A kaleidoscope of colors painted the sky, as if the entire world wept for the departure of its beloved guardian, each hue carrying a touch of sorrow and respect.   Amidst the sobs, a faint weeping resonated from the depths of the earth—a sorrowful lament from the primordial essence of the world itself, mourning the sacrifice of the sacred tree, a solemn elegy that echoed through the ages, immortalizing the noble act.   — END OF THE CHAPTER —   [Join Our Discord for regular updates and have fun with other community members: https://discord.com/invite/SqWtJpPtm9 ]