Apocalypse Forecast-Chapter 732 - 595 Compensation_2

The teacup in his hand had been poised mid-air for quite a while, already at his lips, yet he kept forgetting to drink. His gaze remained fixated, unwavering, on the scenes transmitted on the screen. In his other hand, he clutched the emergency recall activation switch, but he could never bring himself to use this final safeguard. It was just a little bit more, just a tad... He couldn’t help but lean closer, his entire being almost pressing against the screen, watching Huai Shi’s last struggle, anticipating the emergence of a miracle.

But at that moment, Huai Shi’s movements suddenly froze for an instant, his eyes wide, his outstretched hand rigid in the air. Immediately after, he was completely engulfed by the viscous Sea of Darkness. He vanished without a trace.

Above the towering summit, the slender thread of pure white light rapidly diminished, torn apart by wailing cries.

Hell was consumed by darkness.

In the utter silence that followed, the large screen on the Iron Crystal Throne showed only restless static and a crimson warning.

[Signal Interrupted]

"Luo Su!" the Great Grandmaster bellowed. "What are you waiting for!!!"

Just a bit longer, Luo Su unconsciously moved closer, staring at the screen before him. Just a moment more... it’s not yet time to give up.

Cracks from tension gradually appeared on the surface of the teacup in his hand.

An excruciating silence descended.

Only the laborious ticking of the second hand resounded.

Huai Shi felt like he was about to melt away, like a sugar cube dropped into ink; the presence of his Soul was fading. Yet the agony became progressively more distinct. It purely manifested in every part of what he thought was his nervous system, though he doubted if he even possessed nerves in his body anymore. It was as if millions of him were plunging into millions of different Hells, each enduring entirely different torments. He wanted to struggle, but he could not withstand the gravitational pull of this Dark Ocean. Despite his relentless attempts to awaken the Stigmata, Soloist gradually became unable to respond to his will.

The miracle was drifting away from him.

Too much despair; it was like staring at the death of an innocent child over and over again.

The Buried Sacred Place that sheltered his last consciousness had begun to crack.

It was about to collapse in its fall.

The glow of the Sword of Virtue was rapidly fading, no longer able to withstand the encroachment of despair, falling apart.

The final straw had broken.

It was just short of that last bit... Huai Shi wanted to give a wry smile, but he didn’t even have the strength left to do so. In the darkness, he closed his eyes. He just wanted to sigh. You’re a fool, Huai Shi. No one is coming to save you this time. A meaningless wager of life. In the end, I couldn’t save anyone...

It was in that instant that a hand emerged from the deepest depths of the Sea of Despair, supporting his back and halting his descent.

Huai Shi turned around in astonishment, seeing a rust-covered and fractured face in the darkness. It seemed familiar. Was that... the Variator? Indeed, that was the figure he had once seen in the control center: the King of Casting who created countless Steel Beasts! A smile, like an illusion, emerged on that continuously flaking face.

Disregarding his fragmented body, he stretched out his arms and propped up Huai Shi, lifting him higher!

Then, another hand stretched down from above, grasping Huai Shi’s wrist.

"You don’t belong here... this is not your place to die."

A final blaze burned above the majestic and fierce iron-cast face. The Forger known as ’The Constant’ pulled him, saving him from the brink of dissolution. Afterward, The Constant disintegrated in the darkness.

Then, The Grower. Its arms, twisted and cracked like tree branches, extended from the deepest depths of the Dark Ocean, lifting Huai Shi’s body with difficulty.

"Go, stranger, to the place you belong!"

One after another, fragmented silhouettes emerged in this Dark Ocean. The former Kings of Casting, using the last vestiges of their Power, lifted him from the depths of ultimate despair, upwards. They would not allow him to fall into such a wretched state. As they passed each other, they entrusted their last hopes and Power into his hands.

In the deepest darkness, a light began to glow, illuminating Huai Shi’s eyes.

It was the Remnant Souls, awakened from their eternal dreams of despair. They opened their arms to part the Sea of Darkness just a sliver, bit by bit, clearing a transient path for him.

This was the last gratitude of countless frenzied Souls, offering a humble gift to their Savior.

"Thank you..."

The voice, like an illusion, faded into the laments of Hell.

Huai Shi stood in place, looking incredulously at the small flicker of light in his palm.

"Do you see, Huai Shi?" a distant voice echoed in his ear. "Within the deepest despair, hope still remains for you."

The Phantom of the Flying Bird locked gazes with him, telling him, "This is not a fluke, nor is it any previously established norm. It’s unrelated to me or others; it’s a change you brought about yourself, a miracle you created. No one but you could have earned such an honor. What you’ve done is not meaningless."

Huai Shi didn’t speak.

Just then, in that instant, the outline of a Sword Blade emerged from the feeble glimmer. It was aflame. From the deepest darkness, it lit up Huai Shi’s eyes. It ignited everything, tearing apart the deepest Dark Ocean, silencing all the wails, and becoming a wild and mighty blaze of light that proclaimed its existence.