The First Magic World War-Chapter 648 - 613, Let Him Become a Part of Me (Requesting Monthly Votes)

Chapter 648: 613, Let Him Become a Part of Me (Requesting Monthly Votes) Chapter 648: 613, Let Him Become a Part of Me (Requesting Monthly Votes) In the Christopher region of the New Continent, all of a sudden, everyone felt the entire landmass shaking, then most of the district’s residents witnessed a scene akin to the apocalypse.

A monstrous being, resembling a meatball but with countless tentacles, each dozens of kilometers long, rose slowly into the sky.

Most Transcendents, or those with a certain level of knowledge and experience, could not help but exclaim in shock, “Evil God Gampas!”

In another district of the New Continent, a similar omen appeared, a pool of black mire like a swamp, slowly emerged from the ground and wriggled toward the sea, sweeping everything along its path into the murky depths.

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When it finally submerged into the ocean, it eroded a long riverbed on the land, causing seawater to flow backward, creating a salty river.

Throughout the entire New Continent, eight such omens occurred, with countless wild beasts, poultry, and livestock gathering in one place, continually rotting to form an indescribable mass of foul-smelling flesh and bone mush, and some were drifting gray fogs with innumerable human shadows flickering within.

Without exception, they all plunged into the ocean, never looking back, and headed straight for the Old Continent.

The residents of the New Continent had no idea what had happened, nor did they know if these Evil Gods would ever return; they lived in constant fear.

...

The residents of the Old Continent were completely unaware and had no idea that danger was approaching.

A middle-aged traveler, carrying a suitcase, was strolling through a city in the New Continent and suddenly felt a connection with the entire world.

Looking up toward the sea, he couldn’t help but show a look of surprise and muttered to himself, “Why have these pieces of trash suddenly gone mad?

What are they doing in the Old Continent?”

“Hmm, should I also return to the Old Continent?”

“There’s no chance of becoming a deity here!”

“Although I’ve slaughtered two Evil Gods and absorbed their power, it hasn’t helped much in solving the fundamental problem.”

The middle-aged man suddenly felt a presence; he looked down the street to see a familiar figure and couldn’t help but smile slightly, saying, “Aren’t you supposed to be in the Old Continent?”

That figure strolled over leisurely and said, “The True Gods of the Old Continent have quite some tricks up their sleeves; they’ve completely turned the tide of battle.”

The newly appeared man was Zimmerman, who had not been seen on the battlefield for a long time, and no one knew he had returned to the New Continent.

Curiously, Zimmerman asked, “Should I call you Kahnstan, or Garibald?”

The middle-aged man carrying the suitcase hesitated for a moment, then smiled and said, “There’s no need to hide anymore, both are me.”

Zimmerman asked in surprise, “Aren’t you already a deity?”

Kahnstan replied indifferently, “I wasn’t able to preserve my own consciousness, nor was I able to preserve my soul.

If you call that thing a deity?

I suppose you could say so.”

Zimmerman looked incredulous and said, “Aren’t you quite normal right now?

I’ve never seen an Evil God as normal as you.”

Kahnstan said lightly, “Just as humans can give birth to offspring, allowing a mass of flesh to produce a new consciousness, I used a Secret Technique on my own body to give birth to a Conscious Seed.

This Conscious Seed, although it has drawn from Garibald’s memories, we are, in every sense, two separate beings.”

He pointed at his own head and smiled, “Funny, right?

I often think I’m Garibald, but I also clearly know that I’m a newly born consciousness, only drawing from Garibald’s memories; we are completely different entities.

The understanding of self has always troubled me.”

Zimmerman paused for a moment, then said in a low voice, “So the Blood Clan has such Secret Techniques, no wonder…”

He said nothing more, some intelligence wasn’t suitable to be shared with non-allies.

He and Kahnstan were not enemies, but they were definitely not friends either; such secrets could not be shared.

Kahnstan was unconcerned; of course, he knew what type of person Zimmerman was!

He had struggled countless times with Zimmerman in the New Continent, neither able to best the other: one an authentic Evil God with a lucid consciousness, the other retaining his consciousness, progressing toward True Godhood.

Even among the Evil Gods, they were among the most formidable.

Kahnstan said languidly, “You’re not someone who gives up.

What exactly are you planning to do when you return to the New Continent?”

Zimmerman flashed a dry smile and replied, “For the same reason you stayed in the New Continent, we both need to take down a few lone Evil Gods, to prepare enough sustenance for ourselves.”

Kahnstan asked, “Who have you set your sights on this time?”

Zimmerman didn’t answer but simply brushed past Kahnstan, whispering, “Definitely not you.”

Kahnstan wasn’t surprised; the two had clashed before and knew that killing one another would be difficult—they’d rather pick easier targets.

As Zimmerman disappeared down the long street, Kahnstan gazed faintly at the sky, sensing that eight Evil Gods had left the New Continent.

He stood on the street for a long time before saying indifferently, “I should head back.”

“Go and destroy that filthy thing that is my true form, make it a part of me.”

“Damned Blood Ancestor, nothing but trash.”

A faint blood mist emanated from Kahnstan’s body, and he vanished within it.

Charles suddenly awoke, but to his horror, he found himself not in the real world but pulled into the Deities’ realm by a force.

The most distinctive feature here was the endless black void.

And things emanating evil thoughts would often pass by.

Still, each time Charles encountered them, it was in the midst of a great battle between Evil Gods, so the battlefield instinctively repelled its kind, sparing him from Evil Gods encounters.

But this time was different—below the boundless black void, there was neither Holy Light Divine State Title nor Emilia Vessel!

He was utterly alone!

Charles heard a familiar whisper; it was so familiar that he initially thought he had never heard it before, but he quickly realized it was ingrained deep within his soul.

It was Kahnstan’s voice…

“Somebody is trying to kill me!

All my descendants, come to Byron’s Huting Lein Mountain!”

“I will grant you immortal life!”

“Quickly come to Huting Lein Mountain…”

Charles had summoned Kahnstan before, and because of Agmilas’s painting, had a second “encounter” with this Evil God.

Ah, it was quite unpleasant.

But because of that, he was very familiar with Kahnstan’s essence.

Charles could sense a familiar presence in the distance, a presence so forceful and unimaginably powerful, stronger even than any Evil God he had ever seen.

Yet it exuded an aura of decay, death, downfall, and impending destruction.

It was calling all its bloodline, but Charles could sense that a very unique force blocked Kahnstan’s summons.

In other words: He was the only one who could hear this Evil God’s call.