Chapter 190: The Dissolution of Rules
Diverting disaster eastward—now that was a good idea.
The moment the Narrator clearly uttered the words “The Watcher,” the clouds that had paused in the sky suddenly gathered again. Countless fine but dense bolts of lightning lanced down from above, striking across the land of Cloud City in a carpet of silver light.
Compared to the earlier “targeted strikes,” this was more like a search pattern—as if the lightning were hunting for something.
It couldn’t directly locate the Narrator, but His form was too vast, and at such a crucial stage of His plan, there was no way for Him to evade those searching bolts. He could only endure as the lightning struck His enormous body again and again, transmitting His presence to the Watcher.
Damn it!
Realizing concealment was no longer possible, He decisively tore away all disguises and redirected every bit of the Midnight realm’s power into pulling the “sun” down faster.
Xu Zhi wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but as she watched the black sun accelerate its descent, she felt that it was falling straight toward her head.
“…No way…”
When the sun began to fall, the first stage of the formation had already ceased to function—it no longer drew life and souls from the ground. Zhong Lingfan and the others finally caught their breath, but before they could relax, they saw that enormous sun plunging down from above.
“…Is this a joke?”
Someone murmured blankly. His voice no longer carried fear or despair—only pure confusion, as though the sheer absurdity of what he was seeing had broken his ability to think. He just stood there, dazed, doubting his own eyes.
“This doesn’t look like a joke,” another said dryly.
“So… what do we do?”
The words fell, and silence spread.
What could they possibly do?
Hide? From a falling sun?
There was nowhere in this world to hide from that.
“We’ve done all we can. Now… we wait for death,” one of them said calmly, raising his head to gaze at the descending mass. His tone was steady, almost peaceful—he had already given up resistance.
At this point, rather than struggle in vain, it was better to rest, say a few last words to surviving friends, and take one final look at the world before it ended.
Meanwhile, as the sun continued its descent, the air grew thin. Even though they were supernaturals, they still needed oxygen to survive. At this rate, even if they weren’t burned alive or crushed by impact, they would soon suffocate.
Worse still, with the thunderstorm raging, it seemed the lightning itself had turned against the falling sun. The two powers clashed in the sky, tearing the world even further apart.
Air pressure failed. Gravity warped. The ground trembled violently as if it could no longer bear its own weight. Massive earthquakes rippled through the land; the sky split with thunder and lightning; the ocean surged inland in devouring waves.
Those still alive stood on fragments of shattering earth, and that last patch of solid ground beneath their feet became their Noah’s Ark, carrying the final flicker of humanity’s hope to live.
He ignored everything below, raising His monstrous arms higher to drag the descending sun down faster. The earth was breaking apart beneath Him; skyscrapers toppled in waves; enormous fissures split the land, spilling seawater into the Federation from nowhere.
Chunks of rock rose into the air, pulled by distorted gravity. The sea roared and foamed. And still the lightning rained down ceaselessly, hammering both Him and that black “sun.”
Natural order collapsed. The sun and moon no longer existed. The world was truly ending—even the rules themselves were dissolving.
The loss of rules would ultimately mean death for all things—even for Him. But in this moment, that very dissolution freed Him from His shackles.
Previously, the thunder’s judgment had suppressed His regeneration, forcing Him to endure pain endlessly. But now, as the rules melted away, His wounds began to heal rapidly.
[The rules of this world are breaking.]
It wasn’t text this time—it was a faint, almost ethereal voice that echoed in Xu Zhi’s mind, strangely familiar.
She didn’t bother wondering who it was—she already knew.
“The Narrator… you can talk again?”
The little creature in her pocket poked out its head, curious, swiveling around as if trying to spot where the voice came from.
[Yes. But only you—and your familiars—can hear me.]
[Recall your other familiars. Zhong Lingfan’s formation can’t protect them. You’ll need their strength to survive what’s coming.]
At first, Xu Zhi hadn’t brought her other familiars along—only the small creature and the cat stayed with her. She’d assumed that He would kill her immediately once freed, not realizing that He would instead focus on completing His plan first, sparing even an enemy like her temporarily.
To keep her other familiars safe—and because they weren’t strong enough to help—she had sent them to stay with Zhong Lingfan, where they could both assist and be protected.
Now, though Xu Zhi didn’t quite understand what the Narrator meant by “you’ll need their strength,” she still summoned them back.
As her familiars gathered around her, the Narrator spoke again.
[Now is the time. He’s locked in conflict—with It. Their battle will drain His power.]
[When the sun strikes the earth and the rift opens—that will be His most desperate moment, and your best chance.]
[Until then, while He is distracted, you must grow stronger.]
Xu Zhi blinked, taken aback.
“Grow stronger—now?”
How was she supposed to do that?
Before she could ask, her familiars had already reached her side.
Then the voice came again, soft and familiar—tinged with something almost like apology.
[Eat them.]
“…Huh???”
Xu Zhi stared in disbelief.
What kind of insane suggestion was that?!
[…Or rather, let them merge with you.]
“Oh.”
Why didn’t it say that in the first place?!
“Don’t say it like that next time—you almost scared me to death! How do I even merge with them?”
She had never seen that kind of “feature” in any system before.
[Relax. I’ll guide you.]
[It’s not difficult.]
[After all—they’ve always been a part of you.]
