Chapter 157: The End and the Beginning

Staring at the serene expression of the King of Dawn, the three of them suddenly felt a bad premonition.

This sensation did not stem from a spiritual warning of danger; in their perception, the aura of the King of Dawn was rapidly dissipating, no longer as surging and majestic as before. Previously, he was like a raging wildfire on a mountain, but now he was merely a dying campfire with only a few scattered embers left. He had exhausted his life force. The power brought by the Self-Slaying Technique was limited and temporary.

Yet, they still felt uneasy, having been tricked by this old fox several times after all.

"I have won, and you have lost," Atoskto answered his own question.

Taciturn, Dushi Sheng, and Daniel—these three high-tier powerhouses—instantly tensed their bodies, unleashing the last of their remaining "mana bars." Spirituality surged, and spell corridors unfolded around them.

The insidious craftiness of the King of Dawn had traumatized them, and coupled with their current condition, regardless of what he wanted to say, they decided to strike him down first just to be safe.

Just as the spell corridors in their hands were about to be unleashed, the King of Dawn suddenly faded out. In their perception, Atoskto’s meager spirituality vanished completely, making him feel like an ordinary mortal.

Their first reaction was that the King of Dawn had been completely burned away by the Self-Slaying Technique. The more powerful the force unleashed by the Self-Slaying Technique, the faster the rate of combustion. Everything came at a price; the King of Dawn had indeed been magnificent just moments ago, displaying the might of a Tier 5 entity, but every swing of his sword consumed his own life.

Of course, the primary reason was the explosive activation of the Sword of Dawn. Otherwise, given the King of Dawn's baseline strength, he would essentially have died from a single strike. After all, that terrifying power was equivalent to them going all out; they estimated they could probably only unleash such an attack about five times at most.

The explosion of power from the King of Dawn had been bought with his life. It was incomparable, and not worth the cost.

Gazing at their tense expressions, Atoskto, hanging from the chains, looked at them with utter contempt and asked in a calm voice, "Aside from Daniel, how long will it take the two of you to recover from your injuries?"

Injuries?

Their expressions froze in bewilderment, and they subconsciously checked their own conditions.

A strange force had taken root within them at some unknown moment, continuously disrupting the spirituality in their bodies. The damage was not severe, but it was extremely detrimental to their combat performance. For instance, a spell that previously took a single breath to cast now required at least three breaths, and constructing certain large-scale spell corridors carried the risk of failure.

Realizing this, the expressions of the two sank instantly.

"Old bastard!" Taciturn cursed in fury as a series of sharp spikes burst from the ground, piercing the king's body.

The losses this time were truly devastating; he had never suffered such severe injuries before. It would take him at least five to six years of recuperation to heal from these wounds. During this period, his strength would plummet, leaving him with virtually no option other than fleeing should he encounter an enemy.

Dushi Sheng’s expression was equally unsightly, though compared to the emotionally unhinged Taciturn, he managed to keep his composure.

He was indeed injured, but not as severely as Taciturn. He would only need a year or two to recover.

At the same time, he had virtually no external enemies, and the region he inhabited was teeming with all sorts of toxic creatures that no one else wanted. Even if enemies invaded, he could simply vanish into the deep, primordial forests and emerge only after fully healing.

At this thought, Dushi Sheng felt a hint of pity for Taciturn.

Due to generations of inbreeding, this fellow had inherited all sorts of ancestral flaws. His body was twisted, his soul disordered (borderline psychotic), and he was prone to dying of illness in childhood, living a much shorter lifespan than other humans. The only advantage was that it ensured the inheritance of extraordinary talents—the weak ones died directly, while the strong survivors became formidable transcendent beings.

This guy had a damaged brain, acted extremely erratically, respected no taboos, and had provoked far too many enemies. Once the news of his injuries leaked, a multitude of people would undoubtedly kick him while he was down, and Dushi Sheng himself wouldn't mind pushing him as well.

However, more pressing than that was figuring out what to do next.

Having suffered heavy injuries, it was clearly impossible for them to disrupt the upcoming succession ceremony of the Lord of Dawn. This also meant that a terrifyingly powerful Lord of Dawn would emerge in the future—a formidable monarch bound to them by a blood feud.

Facing such a Lord of Dawn, could they possibly withstand the tide of vengeance?

"Hehehehe..." Blood dripped from the corners of Atoskto’s mouth. "You lost. You lost utterly and completely. Hahahaha!"

"The rise of Dawn is unstoppable. In the near future, the light of Dawn will illuminate your lands, shatter your filthy walls, and tear down your banners."

Daniel spoke, "King of Dawn, the current empires will never allow large-scale wars to break out. No matter how talented your descendants are, they are no match for the empires."

"So the empires allow you to carve up Dawn? Hahahaha! Ridiculous! Truly ridiculous!" Atoskto laughed mockingly. "Weakness truly is the ultimate original sin."

The territory of the Kingdom of Dawn had been continuously annexed by neighboring countries, yet the lofty empires turned a blind eye. To them, this was merely a "childish game" between minor nations.

Daniel remained silent for a few seconds, offering no rebuttal. Instead, he said, "I am willing to return the territories annexed over the past few decades and offer certain compensations in exchange for peace between our two nations."

He had decided to yield; he had witnessed firsthand the power of the Sword of Dawn, which was beyond anything they could contend with.

As for taking the sword away, he was currently incapable of doing so, and he dared not even attempt it.

"I can agree to your terms, but the new Lord of Dawn will not. Both of those children are fiercely ambitious, no matter which one of them takes the throne. Sooner or later, they will step beyond these borders."

"The Kingdom of Dawn has declined for many years, severely lacking in extraordinary practitioners. A single powerful Lord of Dawn cannot reverse that alone," Daniel stated.

"Daniel, what is a country?"

"The king, the nobility, the transcendent, and the commoners."

"I used to think so too, but I was wrong—terribly, horribly wrong." Atoskto gazed toward the distant horizon, his expression turning somewhat distant.

"A country is formed by millions of homes. It is the sum of everyone, including the king, the nobles, the knights, and the common folk. A country belonging exclusively to a select few is not a complete country."

"Daniel, have you ever witnessed the power of millions of commoners?"

Daniel furrowed his brows slightly. Was the King of Dawn dying to the point of delirium?

"What power could commoners possibly possess? Without our protection, they wouldn't even be able to defeat the weakest green goblins."

"Hehehe... I have witnessed it. I once watched alone from the Eastern Border for three days and three nights. It was truly beautiful—a greatness that transcends everything. To build a road spanning hundreds of thousands of paces takes less than ten days; the running speed of ordinary mortals cannot even keep up with the pace of their construction. A single command from a leader can instantly mobilize thousands, tens of thousands, or even hundreds of thousands of people..."

"You need a piece of beast meat, and within a minute a hunter enters the forest. You need iron ore, and within a minute a miner steps into the cave. You need to build a palace, and the next day hundreds of thousands start working immediately. From a hundred miles away, stones are being hauled for you, people are carving furniture for you, and others are leveling the roads for you..."

Atoskto’s voice was filled with a sense of yearning, akin to a child's longing for a toy, yet it was also exceptionally faint and ethereal.

"A country where millions strive for a common goal, a country where countless individuals dedicate themselves, a giant united from top to bottom... I truly... yearn to see it just one more time..."

An aged hand stretched toward the distance, tears continuously falling.

As death approached, the King of Dawn realized that he was still deeply afraid of dying. He wanted to witness that magnificent spectacle one more time, to see just how far such a nation could go.

He yearned to witness the dawning of a new era—a magnificent and turbulent epoch.

Pity that he lacked the qualification. He was unworthy of witnessing the arrival of the brand-new era; he was merely the terminator of Dawn's old age.

"Grand Duke... Can Dawn become a great nation revered by all people..."

Father, it has succeeded.

Swish!

A flash of cold light sliced through the air, and Atoskto plummeted from the sky, traces of tears still lingering at the corners of his eyes.

"Old bastard, I'll turn your skull into a goblet! Exclusively for slaves to drink water from, hahaha!" Taciturn caught the head and bolted, his figure flickering a few times before covering hundreds of meters in the span of a few breaths.

Daniel snapped out of his daze and roared furiously, "Taciturn!"

Gathering his remaining spirituality, he gave chase, but the other party had long since vanished without a trace.

At this moment, across the ravaged and scarred earth, only Dushi Sheng, a massive golden-ringed sword, and a headless corpse remained.

Dushi Sheng stared at the Sword of Dawn planted in the earth. That crimson crystal was dazzlingly beautiful, and its mystical engravings radiated an ancient charm.

He swallowed hard, then gritted his teeth and turned to leave.

Such an item was not something anyone could simply claim. If it were so easily obtainable, some powerful entity would have taken it centuries ago. Before coming here, he had been confident he could take the sword, but after experiencing this battle, that confidence had been utterly crushed.

This sword was far too bizarre.

At that moment, the war came to a complete end.

After an unknown length of time, Mark arrived before the Sword of Dawn, dropped to his knees before the headless corpse, and paid a profound, solemn bow.

The headless corpse was placed into a silver coffin prepared long in advance, with the Sword of Dawn resting right inside it.

...

In the distant East, amidst a forest of reinforced concrete.

Irene was tirelessly flipping through the pages of a book in her hands, over and over again. In her mind echoed the knowledge she had acquired during this period, along with those awkwardly accented lingua franca words.

"Cultivating the collective spirit, sense of honor, and sense of power among the commoners. Through military posture and marching drills, forging physical memory to build the most fundamental collectivism... Continuously instilling ideological concepts through language and slogans to plant the seeds of falsehood..."

"Next is transforming the abstract into the concrete: planting agents among the populace, using the 'nobility' to oppress them, and then guiding them to resist. Through wave after wave of minor resistance, step by step, allowing them to grow and succeed..."

"Finally, launching a war—a war won purely by ordinary people..."

Irene muttered intermittently. This was the method she had synthesized and deduced through her studies.

It was a method entirely based on theory, one that even she felt was somewhat reckless.

Just then, a tear slipped down her cheek for no apparent reason, and a sudden wave of panic washed over her heart.

Knock, knock, knock!

A crisp rapping sound echoed on the door.

"Lady Irene, the Commander requests your presence. He has something to inform you."