Chương 224: Chapter 221 - Unstoppable, Immovable Force vs Undying Immortal Army

The torso of the [True Shapeshifter] was falling into a ravine deeper than the Cataclysm Abyss. She cared little for the blood and viscera that was falling out of her body, cared little for the darkness that was swallowing her, and cared little for the Tyrants that were about to destroy an entire Sector. It hurt. It shouldn't have. Both the Witch Tyrant's Legend and her own Legend had been torn apart. Technically, neither Legends had a hold on her anymore.

You would think that would mean that she was back to herself… But how could you go back after what she'd just experienced? After all, her brain had changed to be the Witch Tyrant's. She still remembered them, the memories of her daughter, the emotions of a parent. Gamielle is dead. My daughter is dead. Pinkie… for that was her real name, did not know if she wanted it back or wanted to flee or wanted to just… Never to feel anything again. —— The Realm… This time, every single person's [Dangersense] went off.

Even those without alert skills felt a cold shiver of death go down their spines, as if they could die at any moment. Messages flew across The Realm, many just wanting to contact loved ones, others just trying to figure out exactly where the disaster was located so they could get the hell away from it. A continent sized beast rose high the mists, uncaring about adventurers seeing it. It rushed for a leveled zone.

Adventurers all stumbled away from the giant beast, those that were too slow or too curious were burnt alive in foxfire. A rogue spirit, powered by a system portal rushed further away from Sector Ten as far as he could, swearing all the while.

"Knaves! Knaves and blasted scourges!" And Sector Thirteen, the new Sector… All of the remaining rogue spirits felt it at once. A few had been gathering together, those that that had more control over their faculties, those that were older, had been gathering, plotting, trying to understand the new opportunity and threats at hand. When they felt it, all of them threw the idea away. And every adventurer got the notification at the same time. Realm-Wide Quest complete! Settling the new Sector!

Congratulations on quelling or defeating any and all challengers to The Realm. All monsters will now no longer be able to stake claim on the entirety of The Realm. Note: All monsters that had passed the threshold to stake claim on The Realm can never do so again. —— Sector Ten… Hans, her Fallen [Chieftain] was gone. She felt it when [Mantle Ripper] ripped through him. His essence was torn from the great webbed tree that was [Remembrance of the Fallen].

The Witch Tyrant had theorized that it was always possible, that with the right amount of power and precision, even a Legend could be damaged. What she didn't expect was a precision strike from a Legend that was called [Mantle Ripper]. It was a pure physical active Legend that was designed to rip up the mantle of a planet. Somehow the Passive Tyrant had channeled that into a tiny concentrated attack that cut away at everything. Tiny was, of course, relatively speaking.

The new ravine of Sector Ten was still at least ten yards in width. Nothing compared to the last time it was used. That time it had effectively caused a cataclysmic earthquake that reshaped the landscape of an enormous amount of Sector Twelve. Considering Ayla's nature, it was unlikely that she had been practicing that move in secret. Most likely, she had thought of the idea and it worked out on her first attempt. Still a grave mistake. She should have expected the impossible from Ayla.

A wave of dizzying lights surrounded the Witch Tyrant. Dozens of orbs of light that spun in a circle around her, forming the outline of a formation while being a destructive bombardment on the creature that was chasing her. Not that it worked. Beams of pure light that melted holes through enchanted armor and dragonslayer skills… only singed the Passive Tyrant's skin slightly.

[Indomitable Flesh] + [Endless Pursuit] One made the Passive Tyrant's body as tough as her willpower, the other made her faster and faster the more she chased. The worst part? They were both passive skills. There was more than a little truth in her title. While the Passive Tyrant's vision was taken up by the barrage of lights, the Witch Tyrant was rapidly casting [Acceleration Gates] and splitting into twelve different clones, each woven with different fates, concepts, faith, mental energy and magic.

Even the Archmage Tyrant would find it impossible to spot which one was the real one in any short amount of time. Not the Passive Tyrant, she had already adjusted to the weaving of faith into the illusions. No hesitation as she went right for the real body, each step in the air accelerating herself as the [Endless Pursuit] kept her close. The Passive Tyrant's hands started to form a circular afterimage around her, as if she had infinite fists.

The Witch Tyrant dragged her mind back from almost every clone and focused in full. Ayla had decided to skip their usual tests and went straight to her second strongest move. One mistake here and even the Witch Tyrant was dead. A dragonslayer tier [Juggernaut] appeared in front of her, then launched by an [Acceleration Gate] towards the Passive Tyrant. His shield bared forth as the speed and momentum had him immediately intercept the path of the Passive Tyrant.

All of the momentum and speed of an acceleration gate, the Juggernaut launching forth with all of his skills. [Relentless Charge] + [Unstoppable Wall] + [Momentum is My Power] And the Passive Tyrant pasted a [Juggernaut] at the height of his power and unity. She barely needed to adjust her hands to launch the dragonslayer out of the sky with crushed shield and torso. He had bought her one second. It gave the Witch Tyrant the briefest of moments to put her hands together, as her combination Legend activated in full.

Her eyes turned into pure white with countless squirming pins of black. [Remembrance of the Fallen] + [Illusion and Reality Entwined] Golden weaves surrounded the body of the Witch Tyrant as a real Legend Manifestation was brought into reality. A giant tree of golden woven light formed instantaneously in the air with her as the center. The world shook once more, both the Witch Tyrant and reality itself finding it difficult to keep everything stable.

Giant concentric rings of folded space covered half of Sector Ten and were visible from all of the surrounding Sectors. With the locus in place, the true summoning began. All of the Fallen that she had prepared ahead of time. Those that would obey her if it meant they got to continue to live and interact with the outside world. Some had their gear with them, many had their original gear manifested by the Legend of illusions.

With a combination skill, even the Trial System granted the long dead trialists their trial classes and Trial skills back. The Fallen stepped out of the golden tree like heroic warriors from a time long past. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. Gamielle had once said that over ten percent of alive adventurers were actually Fallen.

The number increased if you remembered there were plenty of confirmed dead adventurers, and the percentages were far, far higher for dragonslayers. Especially after having slaughtered nearly thirty of them herself. Sixty-Two dragonslayers. Over ten of thousand evolved adventurers were being summoned. They were all layering skills as planned, many of them expecting the fight of their lives. Though nothing could have prepared them to immediately face the Passive Tyrant's second strongest attack.

They looked upon the Passive Tyrant visage and thought they were seeing a raging deity out of many eastern mythologies. Thousands of arms behind her back… only… [Extended Blows] + [Combat Art: Lu Baizhen's Infinite Requiem of Shattered Fists] They were all fists. —— Rodstead burst out of the tree in excitement, his team's buffs pushing him to the limit beyond, perhaps even reaching the speed of dragonslayers. He had an unfortunate end at realm nine but his dream had always been to match the Passive Tyrant's speed.

Even if he couldn't do that anymore, he could at least try to see how far he was off. Hit her just once, and all of this would be worth it. Only—Rodstead frowned, the air was warped and looked indented, everywhere. Plenty of other adventurers had lowered their weapons as they stared dumbly at the world around them. What is that? Why is it coming closer?

"What's that around us?" It took half a second before Rodstead's jaw dropped. They were surrounded by giant fists the size of dinosaurs in Sector Eight. He looked at his little sword in comparison. —— Everyone looked in horror as quite literally an endless number of enormous fists surrounded them. It made the ten thousand adventurers feel like they were the ones surrounded. It made the Witch Tyrant's combination Legend feel small. It made the world feel like it was too small. Though the dragonslayers did try.

They were the crazy ones after all. [A Hundred Layer Barrier] Shattered by two fists. [Boosted–] Shattered by a fist before it could form properly. [Skill-Breaker] + [Flurry Stab] Took down three fists before the [Rogue] was overwhelmed. [Aegis of the Emerald Dragon] Was pushed back by four fists before a fifth shattered it. … Twenty-seven skills from dragonslayers, boosted by hundreds of support skills were used to buy two seconds from the continuous requiem of fists.

More than enough time for the Witch Tyrant to make an assessment and organize the teams.

'Plan 2c, scenario Fall. Adjustment, squad Hinder begin setting down spatial traps. [Bloodsworn Knight], use your [Damage Transference] on squad c. Ignore Kedark.' The telepathic communications happened in less than a second. The adjustments were made in another half a second. The Witch Tyrant did not trust Indigo's [Bloodsworn Knight] to use [Damage Transference] on herself or her manifestation. Everyone else that had been summoned here were those she trusted to behave.

Indigo's [Bloodsworn Knight] was only listening to her because of her threats—not something she could rely on for a crucial moment such as this. Magic and curses could not make it past the endless barrage of fists. Qi attacks and adventurers could not make it past the endless barrage of fists. Nothing could break past the encirclement. Nothing that hadn't been planned beforehand. A clone of the Witch Tyrant in the stratosphere pointed her finger down and summoned Kedark and squad c.

Ozyell stood above, playing his keyboard like it was an electric guitar. [Rhythmic Descent] + [Grand Entrance] A fully boosted Kedark at the height of his power came down like a flying comet, two adventurers by his side. Kedark activated a boosting skill that surrounded them all. [Death March] Red and black surrounding the trio, their blood boiling until the ends of The Realm. The Passive Tyrant took note and threw tens of fists their way. More than enough to look like an overwhelming strike of endless proportions.

A dragonslayer [Healer of Ancient Blessings] took the front. [Part the Ocean] + [A Moment's Reprieve] The barrage of fists flying towards them parted. It elicited a stronger, more concentrated fist from the Passive Tyrant. That was where the second twelfth realm [Dragonslayer] came in. [Ultimate Parry] A single blade to parry a serious strike from the strongest creature in The Realm. The sword and the [Swordmaster] broke first.

Though it swerved the fist just enough to let Kedark maneuver around the gigantic fist and run down it. [Death March: Die] All three of squad c died as Kedark activated his skill. The crimson sword started to cut through the [Extended Blow]. A red streak of stubborn bloodlust, drawing power from all the death around them. Even the Fallen. Hundreds of adventurers dying every second, being pulverized to dust became the fuel for the demonic [Warlord].

Kedark began to remember the lesson he had learned from the fight with Mezhar. One of classes, skills and unity. The Realm began to shake once again, the surroundings trembling as another uncontrolled Legend began to form. One not aided by the Trial System. The ides of war. Always but a lone man. Pitted against the impossible. Drowning in a sea of blood and death. No skill in their blade, no art in my craft. In this hell, the only thing is true is the blood you're willing to spill.

The infinite barrage of fists slowed its assault on the Witch Tyrant. The Passive Tyrant focused her combat art to deal with the crimson line that was dodging and cutting through every single fist she had thrown at it. A punch directly aimed, bigger and diffuse. Kedark grinned as he felt the peak of his power destroy the fist and went straight for— SLAM! Two smaller but still large fists crushed Kedark from the sides. Breaking both the diffuse fist coming from below and the potential Legend that was forming.

The new Legend manifestation died right there. The giant fists came apart, revealing bloodstained knuckles. Like someone had crushed an annoying mosquito in the sky. Though that focus had required the Passive Tyrant to ease up on the barrage against the grand golden tree. Now thousands of adventurers dotted the sky, spread out instead of being huddled around. They flew in formation. Directed by the Witch Tyrant herself. Ten thousand to one. Kedark stepped out of the golden tree, back to his full strength.

As if he hadn't just been crushed like a bug. Undeterred, he moved forward again, using even his own death and blood as fuel for his continued growth. They charged. And the Passive Tyrant decided to stop trying to destroy everything from afar and moved ahead. All offense, no care about the damage to her body. Skills? Formation? Tactics? Classes? Unity? All were useless against the furious Passive Tyrant. Attacks pinged against her skin, piercing strikes caused bruises that regenerated in microseconds.

Stray attacks were flying miles away, killing everything in its path A tide of fists that moved through all of them without pause. This wasn't the first time, but the Witch Tyrant cursed Lu Baizhen once again. Him leaving his scrolls and recording crystals for the Passive Tyrant had been like giving a tiger wings. Before, there had been no combat school or combat art that could keep up with the Passive Tyrant's endless physical might and growth.

Out of all of them, a cultivator's art, Lu Baizhen's art was the one thing that the Passive Tyrant had found to suit her. A simple, stupid combat art with no flaws. It tore apart the ranks of adventurers like they were paper. With only the slightest consideration for some of the strongest dragonslayers like Kedark, the Passive Tyrant pushed all the way until the end. It took her eight seconds to get to the tree.

Blood soaking the sky, the land and— She was just getting ready to use her Legend to cut the tree in half when— The Witch Tyrant smiled and unmanifested her Legends. A teleportation matrix on the back of her robes pulled her into a spatial tunnel. The Passive Tyrant stepped forth, bending space to follow. [Endless Pursuit] You could not simply run from the Passive Tyrant, she would follow you through any emergency escape method you used.

The Witch Tyrant fled through the bend in space, traveling vast distances in moments— The Passive Tyrant's fists flew in motion, shattering every single trap team Hinder had laid down in the spatial tunnel. The Passive Tyrant's fists broke through the spatial portal and appeared in The Realm, landing down and raining destruction on the path to their destination.

—— A drake tribe pushing their way in Sector Eight looked up as— The entire tribe and the adventurer team that was with them were pulverized without warning. —— Ayla stopped attacking the spatial traps and just let it hit her on the way, it slowed her but she trusted in her [Endless Pursuit] to let her catch up. And that she did. The Witch Tyrant jumped out of the tunnel as both of them tumbled out into paved dirt, Ayla grabbed the Witch Tyrant by the robes and lifted a fist.

And a thick green arm held the Passive Tyrant back.

"What are you doing, Ayla? Friends should not look like that to other friends." Ayla's eyes flashed gold in annoyance as she realized this was what the Witch Tyrant had wanted. She had been brought to the only person that was capable of stopping her. A jolly gentle giant of an orc, though for once, he wasn't jolly, just concerned. The Strongest Tyrant, The Friendly Giant, America's Traitor and The Leader of the Tyrants, The Chieftain Tyrant." Paul, let go, she needs a reset to the brain.

You don't know what she's done." The Witch Tyrant spat out some blood, showing feigned weakness.

"I think our little Ayla has gotten a little too excited in our fight." Paul gave Ayla a stern look.

"Anger is not good, Ayla. You must remember that we are not all strong like you." The Passive Tyrant gritted her teeth.

"Paul listen to me, Lihua's gone crazy, you don't know what she's done, she-she's mindfucked Pinkie–""Language, Ayla, there's children watching." It was only then that Ayla looked around and realized they were in the middle of the street, in Vitalia. People were watching them and had their phones out. The Passive Tyrant with all her fists out in fury grabbing the Witch Tyrant in anger. The judgmental looks she cared little about.

It was about the fact that if she actually did raise a strong enough blow to kill the WItch Tyrant, she'd be dooming a fifth of the city with it. The Passive Tyrant lifted Witch Tyrant with one hand as the orc moved to also stop that. Ayla ignored Paul to shout at her friend.

"Y-you, who the hell even are you!?"

"I don't know what you could mean, Passive Tyrant." It was then that the remaining clone in Sector Ten began to move. Almost instantaneously, the Passive Tyrant turned her head towards that direction. And finally realized the trap. The Witch Tyrant was never planning on fighting her without Hans, all of this had been a backup plan, to get her away from Pinkie. She threw the Witch Tyrant to the ground and tried to move—only Paul still held both her arms tightly.

"Let go of me Paul."

"No, we should all sit down and talk. Friends should not fight each other like this."

"I'm not playing around Paul. Let go." If you were smart and in the crowd, you would drop your phone and run for the hills. If you were smarter, you'd realize that you were dead anyways unless you had a teleportation skill. Those people kept recording.

"Paul, I'm not killing her today, I need to stop—" Paul looked at Ayla pleadingly.

"It's been some time since we all sat and ate together, I think we should do so again. Please?" Ayla Winters looked at her Chieftain, and she truly did consider him her [Chieftain]. The gentlest of the Tyrants and the one person that was her natural counter. She could not put more force into pulling her arm back without causing damage to the city and she could not truly hit Paul without feeling like shit. Ayla sighed.

"Tell her to call off her clone. She's doing something sneaky." Paul looked down sternly at the Witch Tyrant.

"Is that true?"

"No."" Lihua." The Witch Tyrant raised her hands, about to lie again when Paul's class looked at her with deep, true concern. Her [Chieftain] gave her a hopeful look once more. The Witch Tyrant held that gaze for a second, sighed, and made her clone disappear. Though she hid a smile as she did. That had been enough to do most of what she had wanted to do anyway. Pinkie would come back to her, sooner or later.