1000 Years Later, Even My Weakest Follower Has Become A Demon King

Chapter 121 - 121 Cliché



Blake’s remains fell onto the obsidian round table. The two crows perched on his shoulder flapped their wings in shock and flew up. But in the next second, they were blasted into a black mist by an invisible force and slowly sucked into Coles’ body.

“How is it? How does it feel to be completely betrayed?”

Memory fragments kept flashing in Coles’ mind. Beatrice’s voice seemed to come from afar.

Coles was speechless for a long time. He did not immediately experience the power that the quasi-Void Sovereign stature gave him, nor did he feel Black Crow Gaze, which he controlled three-quarters of.

He only silently looked at the charred burn marks on his palms.

In the Moon Realm, will was power itself, and the memories left behind by the other party burned his palm like scorching flames.

Although he, who had already advanced to a high-level Moon Realm existence, could completely repair this charred wound in an instant, he chose not to do so.

The remains on the round table began to turn into dust and dissipate; Blake’s body had long dissipated in the sarcophagus at the Holy Sepulchre.

The wound caused by this memory was probably the last trace of the other party’s existence.

Coles slowly looked up at Beatrice and said, “Nothing much. You worry too much. We’ve already come this far. I don’t need such matters to prove my determination.”

The Whispering Empress had asked him to use Betrayal to seize Blake’s remaining power, which was undoubtedly the final test.

However, there was no need to test him at all. This was because ever since the time he stood in the Holy Sepulchre a thousand years ago… No, ever since he had read about the Void Sovereign’s ascension ritual, this day had already been destined.

After Coles finished speaking, the scene in the surrounding round table collapsed. In its place was an extremely gorgeously decorated temple. Under the shining crystal chandelier, marble pillars filled with magnificent relief sculptures slowly rose, and exquisite lamps were lit up.

Gold and silver maids carried trays as they walked through the temple, carrying never-ending wine and delicacies to the long table covered in pure-white table cloth in the middle.

The bread placed in front of the Lady of Starvation, Camilla, quickly grew spots of mold. Maggots constantly crawled out of the steak and roasted chicken beside Her.

Seeing that mold began to appear on the white tablecloth, She asked, “Should I stay away from here?”

“These things are only decorations on the surface. Before obtaining the Seed of Hope and completing the final ‘reversal,’ my grasp of the authority of hope is extremely limited,” Coles, who was sitting at the end of the long table, replied.

“Then, the problem is when will that person bring over the Seed of Hope.”

The Pale Poet, Pock, picked up the golden goblet and took a sip of wine.

“Or perhaps he won’t come,” the Lord of the Dark Tide said.

The food in front of Her also began to rapidly deteriorate. However, unlike rotting, the food slowly melted into a pool of thick black liquid that emitted a foul smell.

“No, he’ll come,” Beatrice only replied simply.

Then, She continued, “And that clown will also be here, so let’s begin the ritual now.”

Following the direction indicated by the coordinates, William flew in the unpredictable Moon Realm.

William was dressed strangely. He looked like a bandit who relied on robbing caravans to build up his trove of equipment.

He wore a gorgeous blood-red helmet with bat patterns and a pair of bright silver hollowed-out gauntlets. Although these two pieces of equipment didn’t match, they looked like extremely complicated and exquisite noble equipment. However, he was also wearing a tattered tan robe. Moreover, the robe was wrapped in circles of rusty chains, making him look more like a sinner about to serve his sentence.

For weapons, other than Judgment 2, which had never changed, William ultimately chose a crystal staff covered in spikes. It looked rugged and heavy. He felt that other than being a magical medium, it could also be used as a melee weapon.

In addition…

William looked at the ten rings of different colors and shapes on his finger and couldn’t help but think.

This can’t happen in-game…

In-game, players were limited by the equipment bar. They could only wear a ring on both hands, but there was no such restriction after transmigrating.

Therefore, his chances of winning this battle correspondingly increased.

Of course, in terms of combat strength on paper, the chances of winning were still very slim.

But then again, he knew that the Moon Realm’s trap was waiting for him ahead, so why did he persist in entering?

For some reason, William suddenly thought of this problem.

Ever since he learned of that matter a thousand years ago, he had been constantly thinking of a solution—how to stop Coles from becoming the 14th Sovereign, how to stop the possible plane fusion…

However, it was only now that he seemed to have thought of the choice of escaping with the Seed of Hope.

Why did he bet his life on stopping this disaster?

He wasn’t in-game now where there were countless opportunities for trial and error, and countless walkthroughs to refer to. If he failed, it was a failure; he didn’t have a chance to do it all over again.

However, this question didn’t trouble William for long. He quickly received an answer.

William Kane wouldn’t make such a choice.

William Kane wouldn’t remain indifferent when the entire continent was under the threat of the Moon Realm. He wouldn’t prevent loyalists from obtaining the rewards they deserved, nor would he prevent traitors from receiving the corresponding punishment.

From the moment he made up his mind to use this name, he couldn’t disgrace the meaning behind it—the meaning he had once given it.

William Kane didn’t need a reason to do so.

As if to match William’s current state of mind, the surrounding chaotic Moon Realm suddenly cleared up. The originally unpredictable Moon Realm instantly obtained a symbolic appearance. This also meant that he had entered a Moon Realm domain.

Black Crow Gaze, the Moon Realm domain of the 14th Void Sovereign that hadn’t been born.

This place looked like a sea enveloped by a storm, and in the middle of the sea, an ethereal lighthouse flickered.

William glanced at the seemingly unreachable lighthouse.

His gaze was quickly attracted by a figure not far away.

A thin youth wearing a robe made of feathers had a pair of pitch-black wings spread out on his back.

It had skin as pale as milk and amber pupils like a ferocious bird. Cold claws extended from its hands.

Although it was in a storm, its body didn’t show any signs of being wet. It was as if the rain was consciously avoiding it.

“Presiding Judge, it’s been 1,008 years. It’s been a long time,”

the high-level Moon Realm existence spoke. Its not-so-loud voice passed through the surging storm and reached William’s ears clearly.

William smiled and replied, “Is that so? It’s not too long for me. It seems like only a little more than a month has passed.”

When William said this, he used the Storm spell, Voice of Berserking.

Visible sound waves attacked Coles with storms and waves.

However, before they could touch each other, three claws instantly slashed across, tearing apart the storm.

After the storm caused by the Voice of Berserking dissipated, Coles wiped the water off its face and said calmly, “Even if you didn’t want to catch up, you didn’t have to use such an attack, right?”

“I just can’t stand another person talking to me in a dry state when I’m drenched. It feels condescending,” William replied calmly.

Although the storm was torn apart, the tonnes of seawater still struck Coles’s body, soaking it wet.

Coles seemed stunned for a moment before shaking its head and saying, “These words don’t sound like you from before. Looks like a thousand years is indeed long enough.”

Without waiting for William to reply, he continued, “Although this is a little cliché, Presiding Judge, you shouldn’t have come here today.”

William nodded and said, “This sentence is indeed very cliché as your last words.”


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