Chapter 110
Our Discord Server: https://discord.gg/PazjBDkTmW
Chapter 110: Title
As Ye Linlang grappled with India’s crisis, developments in the Atlantic remained undiminished by the subcontinent’s turmoil.
Multiple superpowers had detected frequent appearances of American aircraft carriers in Atlantic waters through their investigations. The Atlantis legend, far from being obscure, fueled widespread speculation. The timing proved provocative – the deep blue beam of light manifested in international waters beyond any nation’s territorial claim.
This jurisdictional ambiguity sparked immediate action. Naval powers mobilized almost synchronously, dispatching investigative fleets to the ancient maritime area.
White House Situation Room
"Mr. President, containment’s no longer feasible. We lack legal grounds to bar foreign vessels from Atlantis’ coordinates."
"Then fabricate grounds. Declare military exclusion zones," retorted Chua-T without glancing up from his phone, where he drafted inflammatory social media posts about the phenomenon.
The aide suppressed a grimace. Only this reality-TV-turned-commander-in-chief would propose enforcing imaginary naval blockades across open ocean.
"Sir, the Global Special Events Association’s forum demands our official response."
"Since when does the Oval Office answer chatroom trolls?" The presidential thumbs kept scrolling.
The aide’s "Understood" died in his throat as he withdrew.
India
The subcontinent’s teeming masses had long surpassed Zhongxia’s population within a smaller territory, its wealth disparity fossilized since twentieth-century colonialism. Now, twenty-first century infrastructure strained under apocalyptic conditions.
Abyssal creatures swarmed through Mumbai’s Dharavi slums, their corruption spreading faster than fire through tinder. Ye Linlang’s brow furrowed. Why hadn’t India’s numerous extraordinary individuals contained this?
The Tier One global threshold naturally suppressed higher entities. Even Zhongxia’s tier-seven dragons dared not unleash full power, lest they destabilize reality itself.
High-tier abyssal incursions were rationed per national capability – a brutal calculus ensuring small countries faced only cannon-fodder horrors.
Yet control slips occurred. Ye Linlang rose from her World Tree observatory, crystal leaves swirling about her. Perhaps she’d underestimated India’s needs when designing the Awakening of Spiritual Energy.
The thought evaporated instantly. Cosmic balance permitted no favorites. Eastern cultivation systems rewarded self-perfection, Western theurgy depended on divine patronage – both valid paths.
India’s pantheon proved…complicated. When streamlining their chaotic mythos, she’d found certain deities peculiarly suited for antagonistic roles. Strategic placements followed.
Humans required existential threats to unite – better external conflicts than civilizational collapse through infighting.
Her sandaled foot touched Mumbai’s bloodstained concrete. Demons bartered souls through temptation; abyssal entities sought viral conversion. The slum’s air hung thick with both corruptions.
Those with wicked natures and fractured souls are most susceptible to the abyss’s gaze, being far more vulnerable to erosion or consumption than those of sound mind.
Ye Linlang could instantly access all records concerning India’s extraordinary individuals—after all, both the Awakening of Spiritual Energy and these superhumans were her own creations.
Concealed atop the slum’s highest vantage point, she observed the chaos below. The rampaging abyssal creatures could be annihilated with a mere flick of her finger. Yet she remained still. Such intervention would disrupt the natural order, granting unfair advantage to those undeserving of divine interference.
The name surfaced in her mind like ink bleeding through parchment—Neh. India’s mightiest extraordinary individual. Her lips curved in recognition. Wasn’t this the Kshatriya youth she’d tested during her last visitation?
"Where hides this champion when his people cry for salvation?" Her whisper conjured a luminous screen revealing Neh’s predicament. The young man stood trapped, his mid-tier one powers hopelessly mismatched against the mutated abyssal creature. To charge forth would be suicide—a futile sacrifice halting his nascent revolution against millennia-old traditions.
On-screen, Neh’s anguished face contorted as military advisors discussed nuclear options. "Anna, am I worthless?"
"Neh," his companion murmured, "this monster exceeds even your strength."
Ye Linlang’s gaze shifted abruptly. Targeting systems activated two kilometers west—a nuclear bomb’s trajectory now pointed directly at her position. "Seki," she chuckled dryly, massaging her temples, "you overachieving child." Memories surfaced of the little girl she’d healed and appointed as priest, never anticipating her protégé would aim for planetary annihilation.
The slum’s infestation made dreadful sense. Desperate souls, having nothing left to lose, became perfect vessels for abyssal corruption. Given time, these wretches would transform into abyssal puppets—final conversion requiring only the slightest push.
Her eyes narrowed at the shimmering horizon where India’s geography concealed the Evil God’s Prison. This sealed realm housed deities from local mythology—once noble divinities now warped by ancient exposure to abyssal power. The surviving pure-blooded gods maintained vigil over their fallen brethren, eternal jailers in this dimensional oubliette.
Seki’s meddling had accelerated the inevitable. The priestess’s pure abyssal energy—directly inherited from Ye Linlang’s guise as the Abyssal Deity—prematurely weakened the prison’s seals. Though designed to decay over centuries, the barriers now quivered under concentrated abyssal onslaught.
Ten real-world seconds sufficed for Ye Linlang’s godlike cognition to analyze the crisis. Tier three abyssal creatures remained vulnerable to nuclear annihilation—if missiles struck true.
A smile blossomed on her lips. Seki’s blunder provided the perfect pretext. While mere monster outbreaks didn’t warrant her involvement, escaping evil gods…
"Perseverance merits reward," she declared as golden radiance engulfed the surveillance screen.
Across the city, Neh’s guarded compound erupted in ethereal light. Guards scrambled as the young reformer vanished from his chamber, transported to a cosmic seascape where starlight rippled like liquid mercury.
"How—" Neh’s whisper died mid-sentence, the memory of golden luminescence burning behind his eyelids.
