Chapter 580: A Silent But Drastic Change

Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

Baal knew that the Voidwalkers had escaped death.

“Humans are a joke. Has nature failed to teach them that the sky is more treacherous than the earth?” Baal smirked. “Come to me, lightning and thunder. Tear these fools apart.”

Almost immediately, the dark clouds above released arcs of gold lightning. The sudden expulsion disturbed the air, quickly forming gales.

“Damn! They sure are heartless!” The Archmage was alarmed. He quickly issued an order to the city guards: “Quickly, the barrier!”

A magic barrier appeared over Arfin City, and only moments later, the arcs of golden lightning struck the barrier hard, resulting in a blinding white explosion.

When the lightning dissipated, the magic barrier — despite being a powerful Forbidden Spell — was riddled with cracks.

“If the barrier is struck by that thing three more times, it is finished! Everyone, put your all into maintaining it!” The Archmage yelled.

The crowd did not need any more reminders. The Voidwalkers, students, and teachers rushed to the key points of the barrier, quickly doing whatever they could to repair it.

“Where the hell is our lightning rod?!” The Alchemist Walker shouted.

“We’re in midair, you dolt! How do you expect us to ground a lightning rod?!” The Engineer Walker, who was rushing to a key point of the barrier, yelled, as he examined all the war toys he had created so far: a spring-loaded marionette, a magic camera, a solar-powered flashlight, a cat-shaped money bank that mewl every time someone dropped a nickel in it. None of them was enough to change their current predicament.

The Voidwalkers soon realized that lightning was not their only problem. A fierce tornado was headed for the magic barrier. It looked powerful enough to destroy the floating island.

The Charlatan Walker — who had just returned after conning the Church — lost his cool. “First Mr. Majesty Walker! Please use the unstoppable technique called ‘Fifth Walker’ to do something!”

“Dale! Somebody tell Dale to fetch the Third Walker right now!” The Archmage shouted. “And tell her to get that damned bear and that tree! This is an emergency; if that talking bear is still reluctant to help, I’ll turn it into a stuffed bear!”

Thick arc of lightning struck the magic barrier once again, expanding the cracks that the crowd had failed to fix in time. It was clear that the lightning would shatter the barrier before the fierce tornado arrived.

Tisdale rushed back into Da Xue.

The third and fourth lightning strikes pounded down the barrier in her absence. The barrier, riddled with cracks, was about to collapse. The tornado was now so close to the island, it was a challenge for the crowd to stand.

The Archmage considered his options for a short time, after which he ordered the students to leave the barrier. He told them to take shelter in buildings on the island and brace for impact. After all, one more lightning strike was what it would take to shatter the magic barrier.

Suddenly, a dragon, clad in shiny metallic armor, crossed the dark sky; it was Mordred the Menace! She flew up to the next lightning strike, and a smaller metal dragon could be seen atop her back. A bear somehow hung from her jaw, and a tree was seen sheltered by her claw.

“Throw these two good-for-nothings into the center of that tornado!” The smaller metal dragon bellowed. “We’ll handle the lightning and thunder!”

“With all due respect, Sir Divine Dragon! I’ve contributed too much blood and sweat for the Voidwalkers and the academy! You can’t do this to me!” Mr. Bear protested; he could have freed itself with his mighty druid powers, but Mordred’s reminded him of someone from his past life: someone who forced him to become her pawn.¹ After this episode, the bear lost its determination to retaliate.

The tree druid was worse. It was so lethargic that its entire protest amounted to a pathetic whisper, “I’m… as weak… as a saplinnnnggg —”

The tree and the bear were thrown into the tornado by Mordred the Menace without hesitation. Then, she positioned herself in midair as per the Third Walker’s instruction, her head raised tall and proud while anticipating the lightning.

“Never forget this, my child. This is the true power of us Silver Nagas!” The little dragon roared. “Yield, lightning!”

Power pulsated from the two dragons. Amazingly, the lightning strikes did bend under their will, zigzagging away from the floating island and snaking down into the boiling magma below instead. The tornado, on the other hand, seemed to be mollified by the “peace offerings” of the bear and the tree. It actually looked like it was moving away from the island.

Had the Voidalkers successfully averted their end?

The answer was unfortunate. Nature had more to offer for Archangel Baal than these tricks, and the determined Angel would not allow even a second of breathing space for the Voidwalkers. Pulling out the last Arbiter’s Right his superior had gifted him, Baal unleashed his most critical and cataclysmal attack yet.

The Archmage scarcely drew a breath when a new sense of dread weighed him down. “Not good…Why do I suddenly feel so heavy?”

It was not his imagination; everyone around him felt the same. The island itself suddenly gained an enormous weight enough to override the levitation system’s upward push. The Archangel had altered the Law of gravity on the floating island so that it could plunge into the maw of the frenzied earth!

The levitation formations continued to function to their limit, but it was no match to the power of gravity itself. Students and teachers had crashed onto the ground as the control over their hundred-tonne body left them. Parting their lips to scream had become impossible, as did the ability to move their legs. Their bodies were pinned to the ground, their eyes peeled open at the slow descent to their death.

“I hope that lingering in every second as you lay dying is enough to humble you,” Baal said quietly. The island’s slow descent was intentional; the Archangel had decided to amplified the gravitational effect in small increments to prolong his enemies’ bleakest moment.

“Can’t hold on much longer…” The Archmage heaved out his final decision. “Save the kids… Get back to Da Xue…”

By this time, the old man could no longer move a finger. His only hope now rested on the Walkers, like the Caveman and the Warrior, who may be strong enough to rescue as many people as possible in his stead.

Suddenly, deep within his mind, an emotionless, stonecold voice boomed:

“Awaken the Fourth Walker.”

The Archmage’s thoughts stilled for a second before he hurriedly contacted Tisdale to carry out this mysterious command. Soon, his heavy eyes found their way to the silhouette of a lone figure exiting from Da Xue’s portal. The man the Archmage had never talked to was slowly making his way through the city ruins, apparently unaffected by gravity.

He occupied the cheapest and most ubiquitous armor in the market that was only good for displays. It paled in comparison to the ones every other Walker was wearing, yet at this moment, he was the only one who could soldier through the city’s cracked pavements, unmoved by the horrors around him and unweighed by Baal’s power. His presence mystified the Walkers; they had almost forgotten this oddball who “played” all of Baiyi’s MMORPG by being AFK. They had no idea what power or abilities were concealed underneath that nondescript frame, and they were even more baffled that Baiyi wanted them to summon someone he openly belittled.

The Fourth Walker had said nothing since making his appearance. With the same uncanny muteness, he extended his palm to the fort where Noirciel slept.

Divine Energy poured out from the black cube containing Noirciel’s destructive power. Strangely, instead of the mess it once was, the energy flowed like a mellow creek gently surging into the Fourth Walker’s armor.

He looked up and saw the two dragons pressing back the tempest, the druids struggling to rein the tornado, and faces, pale with hopelessness, pinned to the ground by gravity.

Finally, he raised his head to meet the world in the eyes and spoke in a voice devoid of gender, “I am Nehemiah, the Lord of the Future.”

His voice was normal, but everyone heard it. At the sound of his name, the fingers of the comatose Noirciel twitched.

No one had ever heard his voice, even Baiyi. Suddenly, the unrelenting thunder, earthquake, storm, as well as the students’ desperate pleas and the Angels’ quiet hymns — stopped. It was as though the world was paying respect to this person by observing absolute silence, patiently waiting for his next words.

“Verily, I declare unto you…”

Time stopped, and the lightning dissipated. The earth and air became still, and people stopped breathing, frozen on the spot.

“No land below me shall fall!”

Time began to flow normally again. The chaos was back as though nothing had come to pass. But those with heightened awareness, like the Archmage and the Archangels, knew better. Even without pomp or noticeable signs, the world had changed.

The last bit of Arfin stopped sinking. The lightning and gales from Baal’s storm moved away from the Island.

With a meager amount of Noirciel’s Divine Energy, Nehemiah the Fourth Walker had altered the Laws governing Isythre.