70: Chapter 70: The War of the Gods Ends, the Underworld Emperor of the Aztec Kingdom

Pei Duo couldn't be bothered to listen to the loser's wailing anymore.

She slowly raised her right hand, which was hidden within the wide sleeves of her robe, and aimed it at the puddle of sludge kneeling on the ground, palm facing down, pressing down in the void.

"Noisy."

Boom — —!

There were no fancy moves.

The rule of gravity, refined to its absolute extreme, descended instantly.

Mateo didn't even have time to scream. The obsidian divine power armor that he was so proud of, the one impervious to blades and spears, shattered instantly like a brittle cookie.

With a dull thud.

The once arrogant and peerless strongest Gods Chosen One of Mexico was forcefully pressed into a uniform, flat, black and red smear of flesh under that single palm strike, deeply embedded in the rock crevices.

Physical silencing was the most fatal.

Even his soul was shattered directly by that imperial might, leaving him no chance to even turn into a ghost.

This was the true weight of the Great Emperor of Fengdu.

"Gulp."

Xu Mo, who had just revived, swallowed hard, looking at the 'Mateo' on the ground, feeling a chill run down his spine.

At this moment, Lin Sa also groaned and woke up.

She sat up dazedly, looked at the lively Xu Mo, and then looked at Pei Duo, who stood there like an empress descending to the mortal realm. The sealed memories surged into her mind like a tide.

"Pei... Pei Duo?" Lin Sa rubbed her temples and smiled wryly, "We actually forgot about you... for an entire instance."

"It's fine, didn't you pull me back too?"

Pei Duo dispersed the imperial might from her body, took off the ridiculously oversized daoist robe, carefully folded it, and placed it back into the qiankun bag, instantly reverting to the appearance of a girl next door.

She clapped her hands and pointed at the intact altar camera at the end of the cliff.

"Alright, stop spacing out. Since everyone is here, let's take a picture."

Pei Duo blinked, revealing a hint of sly amusement, "After all, a family should stick together, neat and tidy."

Xu Mo and Lin Sa exchanged glances, both seeing the relief of surviving a disaster and that trace of awe towards 'power' in the other's eyes.

The three walked side by side to the camera.

This time, there was no scheming, no betrayal, and no sacrifice.

"Three, two, one."

Click!

The flash lit up.

In that pale light, three slightly disheveled but vibrant smiling faces were fixed.

At the same time, an ancient and relieved sigh came from the void.

It was the voice of the guiding God Cultivator, Lothel: "Thank you... It's finally over."

[Ding — —!]

That cold and grand mechanical voice instantly echoed above the entire Thriller World.

[Congratulations to the Dragon Country Team for successfully clearing the Mythic Instance 'Day of the Dead in Mictlan'!]

As the announcement faded, three brilliant beams of white teleportation light descended from the sky, instantly enveloping the three people on the altar.

The next second, the light shot upwards, piercing directly through the Aztec's scarlet sky curtain and vanishing into the vast void.

Leaving behind only a devastated ruin and that pile of unheeded meat paste, telling the tale of the 'fair' duel that had taken place here.

...

At the same time.

Inside the crumbling scarlet divine palace of the Aztec Divine Kingdom.

"No — —!!"

A shriek filled with endless resentment and terror exploded.

The Aztec's Queen of the Underworld, the wife of Mictlantecuhtli, watched with her own eyes as her last gamble—that Gods Chosen One—was smashed into pulp, and watched as the three humans swaggered away.

Rule backlash, Divine Kingdom collapse.

"I want you all to be buried with me! I will drag the entire Eastern Underworld..."

The Queen of the Underworld, with her hair disheveled, was about to detonate the final divine core.

However, the roar abruptly ceased.

As if a sound system's power had been cut, the world fell into a dead silence at that instant.

In the center of the divine palace, an ancient, ink-black longsword had appeared at some unknown time.

And beneath the tip of the sword.

The Queen of the Underworld, who should have been standing there, had already vanished.

"Noisy."

A faint whisper drifted vaguely from the void.

...

The smell of disinfectant was somewhat pungent, mixed with a faint scent of jasmine.

Xu Mo suddenly opened his eyes, his body instinctively tensed, and his right hand subconsciously reached for his lower back—it was empty.

"Stop touching it. This is the highest-security ward of the Jiangcheng Special Operations Bureau, not Mictlan's hell."

A familiar yet languid voice came.

Xu Mo pushed up the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose and turned to look.

On the adjacent hospital bed, Pei Duo was happily crunching on a bag of chips. The shocking xuan qing daoist robe was long gone, replaced by a loose blue and white striped patient gown.

On the other side, Lin Sa leaned by the window, carefully wiping off the blood kiss in the sunlight, her eyes having lost some of their tense murderous intent and gained a touch of everyday softness.

Outside the window, the sun was bright, and traffic bustled.

It was no longer that despair-inducing scarlet sky curtain, nor were there any rule-based strange tales ready to swallow people whole.

They were back.

The ward door was pushed open, and the Director of the Special Operations Bureau, Zhao Guobang, strode in.

This iron-blooded director, who usually remained composed even if Mount Tai collapsed before him, now looked at the three with an extremely complex gaze.

"Awake?" Zhao Guobang's voice was somewhat hoarse.

Xu Mo nodded, regaining his usual composure: "Director Zhao, how long did this instance take? What is the situation in the outside world?"

"Time taken?"

Zhao Guobang gave a wry smile, walked to the window, and pointed at the bustling street outside.

"Within ten minutes of you entering that 'Day of the Dead' instance, all phenomenon of Thriller Instance descent globally paused."

"The entire Thriller Game completely ceased for a full six hours. It only resumed to normal just now when your three vital signs stabilized."

Zhao Guobang turned around and gave a standard military salute to Pei Duo, who was still eating chips.

"Miss Pei, although we don't know exactly what that person did down there, according to our monitoring... the fluctuation of bizarre phenomena domestically decreased by a full thirty percent during those six hours."

"Thank you for coming back alive."

Xu Mo's pupils contracted slightly.

The God War began, and ten thousand ghosts retreated.

He had guessed that Pei Fei might make some moves, but he hadn't expected such a large impact.

...

Meanwhile, deep within the Nether Void.

The coordinate point that originally belonged to the Aztec Divine Kingdom now had its boundary wall shattered, with countless spatialturbulence raging like ferocious beasts.

"Boom — —!"

A pitch-black rift was forcibly torn open.

Six massive, fallen black wings obscured the void. Satan, the Lord of Hell—Lucifer—descended here, holding the Fallen Holy Sword burning with black flames.

His handsome face wore a greedy sneer.

"Mictlan's two fools really died at the hands of the Easterners."

Satan licked his lips, a calculating glint flashing in his eyes. "Mutual destruction is best. Although Pei Fei is strong, fighting across realms and killing two gods must have severely depleted his energy. The resources of the Aztec Underworld and the Divine Kingdom's territory belong to me now."

This was his plan.

Drive the tiger to devour the wolf, then reap the benefits as the fisherman.

As long as he devoured the origin of the Aztec, his Hell Legion's strength would surge. By then, let alone the Eastern Underworld, he would even dare to wrestle with that hypocritical 'old man' above.

"Lesser ones, enter! Harvest!"

Satan waved his hand, and countless demon armies behind him let out excited roars, rushing towards the shattered gate of the Divine Kingdom like locusts.

However.

When Satan kicked open the remaining divine palace gate and saw the scene inside, his arrogant expression instantly froze on his face, like a duck whose neck had been choked.

The expected ruins did not appear.

The masterless spirits he anticipated were also nowhere to be seen.

What met his eyes were Black Dragon Flags planted all over the mountains and fields. The single large Qin seal character 'drunkenness' (Feng) on the flag fluttered in the sinister wind, exuding an ancient and brutish dominance.