Chapter 32: The dance of death
Jiang Ping had held unwavering confidence in the Ant King's victory, but the devastating impact of Gai Feng's final strike caught him off guard. However, even in the face of such destruction, the Ant King's resilience surpassed all expectations. The mightiest champion of the human race had fallen, but the Ant King had managed to escape wounded.
Little did Jiang Ping know that humanity possessed a colossal weapon, a trump card in their arsenal. After careful observation, he realized that this alchemical version of a nuclear bomb had been hurriedly crafted by the humans, who were on their last leg. It was a mere prototype, and yet its power had already been immense. One could only imagine the devastating force a perfected version would possess.
Jiang Ping's attention shifted to the ongoing battle, where the Ant King's invincible golden form lay shattered. Could he still defend himself against the onslaught? The battlefield was now engulfed in a dense haze of gunpowder smoke, obscuring the view.
The formidable warriors, who had journeyed from distant lands, resorted to wind-based techniques to disperse the thick smoke that shrouded the battlefield. As the haze cleared, a grim sight revealed itself—an expanse of black remnants, the lifeless bodies of innocent bystanders piled upon one another.
In the heart of the central battlefield, an enormous and unfathomable crater had emerged. With a diameter spanning a hundred meters and a depth immeasurable, it occasionally spewed forth scorching magma.
"Where is the Ant King?" the valiant human warriors inquired.
"To witness life is to witness ants, and to witness death is to witness corpses!"
Many warriors from various races arrived at the scene, their sorrow for the tragedy inflicted upon the innocent bystanders replaced by a relentless pursuit of the Ant King's traces. Even a peerless powerhouse like the fallen Ant King would inevitably leave behind some remnants. There had to be some trace, no matter how faint.
Meanwhile, deep within the ocean, the black ant clan retaliated, seeking to discover any signs of their king.
In a futile attempt, the battlefield erupted into chaotic combat as warriors from all races clashed with the ant army, each striving to be the first to find the remnants of the Ant King. The fate of all races hinged upon whether the Ant King had truly fallen. Jiang Ping, anxious and observing from a distance, contemplated sneaking closer to ascertain the truth. A sense of foreboding gnawed at him.
"The human race is doomed."
Damn it!
Sharp claws pierced into the searing rock formations as a diminutive figure crawled out from the depths of the pit and leaped onto the surface.
Silence ensued.
Amidst the cacophony of battle, one could hear a pin drop. The Ant King, now a mere fifty centimeters in stature, bore the scars of his recent devastation. One couldn't fathom how much of his body had been obliterated by the previous blow, yet the sight of his diminutive form sent shivers down everyone's spine.
The Ant King, too weakened to take flight, materialized a thought in the crowd's mind—dozens of formidable warriors launched a simultaneous assault on the Ant King.
However, a cold glance from the Ant King was all it took to shatter their attack, rending the attacking warriors into mere fragments along their path.
"I may be weakened for now, but that does not make you strong!"
His bloodshot eyes swept across the chaotic battlefield. "Ant warriors, unleash the full might of our army, consume every race, and leave nothing standing! This farce must come to an end!"
Countless Throng of black ants surged behind him, and the warriors of all races were plunged into despair. They gazed up at the sky, their eyes vacant. This time, no miracle would save them. The primordial world had embarked on a new chapter.
Jiang Ping sighed and averted his gaze, opening the ancient tome, Genesis, held within his hands.
On its second page, the chronicles detailed the ancient era, where the Ant King led the devouring ants to conquer the world. Gai Feng, the mightiest figure in the annals of the human race, brandished the Spear of Destiny—an artifact lost to time—and clashed with the unrivaled Ant King in the heartland of their ancestors.
In three swift exchanges, Gai Feng succumbed, the Stone Tablet of Truth crumbled, its fragments scattering to the far corners of the world. The Ant King, grievously wounded by the human race's secret weapon, the "Light of Salvation," embarked on a merciless massacre of the beloved creation of the God of Creators, Sha. The human race perished, and so did every other race. All things withered, leaving the world devoid of much life.
As Jiang Ping perused the creation log, he couldn't help but sigh deeply. "These devouring ants truly defy all odds!"
He had placed great hope in the human race, bestowing upon them three sacred treasures. Yet, in ancient times, the Stone Tablet of Truth had been stolen by the ant queens, laying the foundation for the triumph or failure of this century-long war.
"Such a belligerent creature! You have already brought the world to its knees, extinguishing the hope of all. What is your next move?"
A wry smile tugged at the corner of Jiang Ping's lips as he snapped the book shut and rose from his seat, stretching his limbs.
The battle had finally reached its conclusion. The primordial world had entered an era of devouring ants, and it was time for Jiang Ping to eat breakfast.
With that thought in mind, he ventured out in search of food, leaving behind the triumphant roars of the devouring ants from around the world.
The last bastion of the myriad races had fallen, the land drenched in rivers of blood. After ages of strife, the continent lay devoid of life.
Except for the relentless black ant warriors, who cruelly dragged the corpses of the vanquished races, no signs of life remained across the vast expanse of the world's largest landmass.
In the aftermath of the battle, the Ant King declared his retreat. The queens knew that their leader, Ant King Beiou, had sustained grave injuries in the final clash. Even the Stone Tablet of Truth lay shattered, casting a shadow over the Ant King's seemingly carefree demeanor.
Before retreating into seclusion, the Ant King commanded his loyal subjects to search high and low, even to the ends of the deep sea, in order to reclaim all the fragmented pieces of the Stone Tablet of Truth.
As he wielded the stolen Spear of Destiny, an eerie darkness enshrouded the heavens, casting an ominous aura that seemed to lock away the very light of the celestial realm.
Unforeseen by all, the Ant King's respite stretched far beyond expectations, leaving a trail of devastation in its wake. As the years rolled by, the primordial world became a breeding ground for insatiable hordes of devouring ants, their population swelling to an inconceivable hundred billion. No corner of existence remained untouched by their relentless advance. From the lofty heights of the heavens to the unfathomable depths of the abyss, and every crevice in between, life succumbed to their systematic annihilation.
Unquestionably, the devouring ants had risen to the zenith, standing as the unrivaled dominators of the world!
For every other alien race had been eradicated.
Once green and teeming with vitality, the continents transformed into lifeless deserts, stretching as far as the eye could see.
The boundless ocean, once the cradle of life, now suffered from the relentless depredation of the ravenous ant horde. Their insatiable voracity extended its insidious tendrils even into the aqueous realm, engorging upon all organic matter and dismantling the delicate tapestry of the world's ecological equilibrium.
A noxious miasma gradually wafted from the ocean's surface, permeating the air with a repugnant odiousness that surpassed even the most putrid sewers. The once azure expanse succumbed to an inky black hue, staining the waters with a malevolent darkness. Along the coastal stretches, an even more vile spectacle emerged—an insidious viridian hue enveloped the once pristine waves. Noxious bubbles erupted sporadically, releasing a lethal toxicity that claimed the lives of countless ant colonies, poisoning the very shores they once called home.
The firmament, once adorned in cerulean splendor, surrendered to a bleak and somber grayness. The avian denizens had vanished, their melodious songs replaced by the eerie silence, interrupted only by the occasional swarm of airborne ants disturbing the desolate expanse.
In the face of this grim tableau, a queen ant gazed upon the world with deep trepidation. The rapaciousness of the devouring ants, as they annihilated everything in their path, echoed as anguished cries from the very fabric of the world. The delicate balance had crumbled, and the queen bore witness to the unraveling of the natural order.
Years of devastation and insatiable consumption had precipitated a stagnation among the ant colonies, unable to restrain their inherent instincts. Some factions had turned against each other, locked in brutal conflicts that culminated in grisly cannibalism.
Finally, after a century of seclusion, the Ant King emerged from his sanctuary. Over the span of those hundred years, the ant tribes had diligently collected the shards of the fragmented Tablet of Truth, scattered throughout the realm. Through their tireless efforts, the Stone Slate of Truth was reassembled, and the formidable Spear of Destiny underwent a meticulous refinement. Thus, the Ant King arose, his form radiating an aura of indomitable power, wielding the once silver spear, now transfigured into an ebony weapon of death.
"Magnificent felicitations to the esteemed and exalted sovereign of the world," the queens extolled, their words an unending tapestry of flattery that resonated through the regal chamber. However, one queen dared to voice her concerns, venturing to remonstrate with the potentate.
"Your Majesty, while our esteemed clan has reigned supreme over the world, the cataclysmic collapse of the natural order has left the environment in utter ruin. Alas, our own kind has fallen prey to self-inflicted mutilation, precipitating our inevitable descent into oblivion."
Seated upon his austere throne of bones, the Ant King maintained an inscrutable countenance, his piercing gaze fixed upon the gleaming spear clutched firmly in his grasp. He granted the queen ant the opportunity to present her plea.
"In my humble opinion, it behooves our noble progeny to establish captive reserves, employing the remarkable genetic technology of the human race to meticulously curate and safeguard diverse organisms. Thus, we may strive to uphold the delicate equilibrium of life and preserve the harmony that once graced this world."
The Ant King, however, responded with a chilling detachment, his rhetoric laced with a belligerent lexicon. "With our prodigious population numbering in the billions, why waste energy on such futile measures? Let the bloodshed persist! The indomitable shall rise while the feeble succumb! Survival belongs solely to the most formidable!"
The ant queen stifled her disbelief, her voice trembling as she endeavored to reason with her sovereign. "My liege, this approach merely offers a transitory respite, failing to address the underlying roots of our plight. The world's equilibrium lies shattered, and such measures merely serve as a postponement of the inevitable!"
He pointed to the artifact in his hand, "Do you know what this is?"