Chapter 135: Great Upheaval in the Federation
Unfortunately, compared to the countless moths that continued to charge toward the flame, heedless of their numbers, the ones gathered around Xu Zhi were but a drop in the ocean.
Still, it was far better than just a few dozen from before.
This time, the illusion didn’t last long. When Xu Zhi awoke from it, she felt she had indeed reached the end of the path she could currently walk—not the end of the forest, of course.
But taking this path again would likely not be an easy matter.
She could no longer rely on simply consuming a few [Moth]-attribute cores to enter the forest.
Xu Zhi didn’t know how large this forest truly was, but she could tell she was still very far from the candle flame in the sky. In comparison, the number of moths she could attract remained pitifully small.
She felt she still had a long road ahead.
But she had little experience and didn’t know what might lie ahead.
Still, Xu Zhi had a gut feeling that the illusion she just experienced hadn’t appeared out of nowhere—it had to mean something. So upon waking, she immediately took out her handheld game console.
Sure enough, the narrator didn’t disappoint and gave her an answer right away:
[Congratulations, you’ve comprehended a small part of the knowledge in your mind, reaching the minimum threshold of understanding on a conceptual level.]
The minimum threshold…
It seemed her mysterious knowledge reserves were still far inferior to the power she now possessed.
“Even if it’s just the bare minimum, it’s still way better than being a semi-illiterate like before.”
“But now that I’ve met the requirement, has anything changed?”
[Of course.]
The narrator replied confidently.
[You should have noticed it yourself. Right now, you are—on some level—emitting light.]
“Mm.”
Indeed, in the illusion, she had been faintly glowing, drawing moths toward her like a flame.
“What does that mean?”
[It means danger.]
“Huh?”
That wasn’t quite the answer Xu Zhi was expecting.
She thought it would be something like: You now qualify for something great.
[Light is limited.]
The narrator explained slowly.
[Every time a new light shines, it signals the appearance of a new competitor. If you wish to keep glowing—perhaps even to become the brightest—you must extinguish the light of others.]
“That’s quite poetic.”
But in plain terms, doesn’t that just mean she has to kill her competitors?
She recalled that the narrator had warned her long ago—perhaps even from the very beginning—that this was a brutal competition.
“So… that’s why you warned me back then?”
[Yes.]
[Previously, even if you stood out among human Transcendents, you were still just an ordinary one—only barely stepping onto the track. You had no real competitiveness.]
[Now, you’ve emerged.]
Ah.
Xu Zhi understood. The tree that stands out in the forest gets blown down by the wind.
[Human Transcendents were never your true competitors. They are still too young. Your real competitors… they are the true danger.]
[Fortunately, they still cannot interfere too much in the real world, and you’re currently in Cloud City. Otherwise, your little spark might’ve been snuffed out in an instant.]
The narrator’s tone seemed tinged with relief. Yet just as it finished speaking, a new line of text appeared on the screen:
[Something’s wrong…]
Xu Zhi was just about to ask what’s wrong, when the screen on her game console suddenly went black—like a television losing power.
*
Outside Cloud City, in the Federation—
The Federation had been gradually stabilizing. The chaos from before had largely been quelled ever since Xu Zhi appeared and resolved the crisis with the Archbishop of the Capital. The[Cup]-attribute believers seemed to have been dealt a heavy blow, falling silent, which brought the Federation a much-needed breather.
Now, with the number of Transcendents steadily increasing and their strength gradually rising, the atmosphere of tension had just begun to ease—when another cataclysm struck.
The time was 3 PM.
More precisely, it happened just as Xu Zhi awoke from her illusion and finished her brief exchange with the narrator.
At the very moment the narrator said [Something’s wrong] and the screen went black—
The sky above the Federation darkened in an instant, like a game screen abruptly turned off.
“…What?”
“What just happened?”
“A solar eclipse? There was no announcement!”
Citizens stood on the streets in confusion, staring up at the suddenly darkened sky, bewildered. The sun, which had been high in the sky just moments ago, had seemingly gone out.
No—that wasn’t possible. The sun doesn’t just go out. What was it that had blocked it?
The moment the anomaly occurred, it immediately alerted the highest levels of the Federation. Soon, they received a report:
It wasn’t just a single region that had gone dark—it was the entire Federation.
“This… how is this possible?”
This clearly wasn’t a solar eclipse—no eclipse could completely blot out the sun like this!
*
Capital City.
In the high tower where the prophet was usually enshrined, the prophet looked up at the sky. But the eyes that once saw glimpses of the future were suddenly pierced by something unseen. Crimson blood began to stream from them.
As those around gasped in horror, the prophet bowed their head. Someone carefully placed their fingers under the prophet’s nose, checking for signs of life. Their expression grew increasingly horrified. After verifying several other vital signs, the person finally spoke, voice trembling:
“…Dead.”
Just one glance upward.
Just one attempt to foresee using Transcendent power—and they died without resistance.
Was it backlash?
Or had they angered something that should not be seen?
Panic began to spread in people’s hearts.
*
About ten minutes after the sky went completely dark, the black veil that had blocked out the sun seemed to recede slightly.
As light began to return, people initially thought the sun had come back. But they were quickly shocked to realize—What returned was not the sun.
It was a crimson blood moon.
Dark red “blood” streamed from the enormous moon in the sky, resembling the eye of a demonic god. The ichor dripped down, soaking into the land, spreading a foul, bloody aura throughout the entire Federation.
The cultists who had been hiding like rats emerged from the shadows. They stepped into the streets openly, arms spread wide, gazing fanatically at the blood moon—worshipping it.
In a basement, a frail boy chained in place saw the blood moon through a tiny window. His eyes widened. In that moment, countless incomprehensible things surged into his mind. The blood moon was reflected in his eyes, and his aura began to rise rapidly.
Within a sacrificial array, what had been a routine ritual was suddenly touched by the blood moon’s favor. Thick red mist engulfed the array, and a pillar of crimson light shot into the sky. The woman inside slowly rose into the air, floating as if receiving divine grace.
