Chapter 181 - 178: The First Light of Dawn
’When is this? Is this a past version of Earth?’
Though such questions swirled in their minds, no one voiced them.
It seemed the answer had already surfaced in their hearts.
As light grew scarce, much of the vegetation, already ravaged and devoured by monsters, also began to wither from a lack of nutrients.
But the world had not given up its struggle. To provide food for the remaining life, plants’ need for light diminished, and some species even evolved to survive on heat and nutrients alone.
But what did it matter?
A terrifying cloud of death settled over the land. Oppressive, suffocating despair washed over them in an endless tide, leaving everyone breathless.
’Where was the resistance? Had they given up? Had all those people—the ones like Superman, the beings like mythical beasts—all perished?’
’Had no new savior appeared?’
As eighteen spectators suffering from mental anguish, they were powerless. They were watching history unfold and could not interfere. Even if they could, they would only be throwing their lives away.
And yet, they yearned to witness a miracle.
They knew a miracle must exist, yet watching the world sink deeper and deeper into an inescapable abyss filled their hearts with a profound dread.
Some even began to wonder if they were truly living in that historical period. If no turning point came, the future world would cease to exist.
The rebuttals were fierce and frequent, but this only served to highlight the intense unease everyone felt.
The scene shifted once more, and the conference table came to rest in a frigid valley.
There were no corpses, no plants, no animals, and no sign of human life. Not even the chirping of insects could be heard. Everything was terrifyingly silent.
It was likely the dead of night; there wasn’t a glimmer of light.
The dozen or so people could only rely on the light from their phones to see each other and the conference table they depended on.
A long time passed, but the scene did not shift again.
"Don’t tell me... they’ve all gone extinct?"
A male editor muttered amidst the silence.
The others almost opened their mouths to object, but no one could find the words.
The biting cold assaulted their senses, their lips turning purple.
"Light! There’s light!"
Mo Shaoge, having trained in martial arts and swordplay for years, had the sharpest eyesight. Spotting a pinprick of light in the far distance, he shot to his feet.
The sudden movement pulled at the wound on his chest and abdomen, making him hiss and grimace in pain.
The others, as if waking from a trance, stirred into action. Some climbed onto the conference table, while others considered finding higher ground.
But with the surroundings plunged in darkness aside from that distant light, no one dared to wander off. Who knew if you fell somewhere and couldn’t get back, whether the conference table would leave you behind?
"Over there! There’s another one!"
the Count yelled in excitement.
Human satisfaction and happiness can be surprisingly simple. For someone starving, a plain steamed bun and a bowl of water is pure bliss.
For the group, who had been lost in darkness for so long, seeing two points of light was like seeing Hope itself!
"There’s more over here—two of them!"
"And here!"
"One, two, three, four... seven, eight, nine. Nine torches in total. Everyone, look around, see if there are any more in the distance!"
They could now tell it was the flickering light of torches.
After a thorough search, they found no tenth torch, but the nine that were drawing steadily closer were more than enough to raise their spirits.
’Monsters don’t use torches. It has to be people!’
’Humanity hasn’t been wiped out!’
At that moment, this ridiculously simple affirmation felt more precious than anything to them.
Finally, they drew near. The torches drew near. They were entering the valley.
They seemed to be converging on the approximate location of the conference table.
The people from the editorial department and Mo Shaoge left their seats, irresistibly drawn to get a closer look at the newcomers.
As in all the previous scenes, the figures couldn’t see them, but all eighteen observers could feel the effects of the environment.
The biting cold of the wind, the chill of the frozen ground, and the warmth radiating from the torches.
There were men and women, old and young. Some were built like oxen, while others were maimed.
Nine people in total. They gathered in the valley, holding their torches, stopping less than ten meters from the conference table.
Among them was a familiar face: the powerful man who had wept after slaughtering the Snake Monster in the first scene.
"So, you’ve come at last."
An old man spoke, his voice steady but laced with unconcealable excitement.
"We had no choice but to come!"
another replied, their voice equally thick with emotion.
The conversation was brief. As they gathered, a sense of power, like the tremor before a volcanic eruption, began to build in the air.
The nine torches were planted in the ground or wedged into the rock face.
A powerful aura caused the flames to burn brighter, their fuel seemingly something other than wood.
A substance-like power, somewhere between tangible and intangible, emanated from the nine. This was the first time since the scenes began shifting that the editors and Mo Shaoge had witnessed such an energy.
The valley trembled gently. Boulders swayed.
A slab of rock, cracked by the tremors, rose from the ground to form a simple, round stone table, around which the nine gathered.
"How long has it been since you’ve seen the Sun Shining Star?"
It was the old man again. His face was weathered, but his eyes were bright.
"Too long. So long I can’t stand it anymore. I’ve had enough of these filthy holes, enough of living in constant fear!"
This was the man who had slain the Snake Monster.
"HAHAHAHAHA~~~~"
A woman began to laugh.
"Yes, I’ve had enough, too!"
"HAHAHAHAHA~~~~" "Hahaha~~"
"Hahahahaha..."
All nine of them began to laugh, their laughter growing from hushed chuckles to wild, unbridled roars.
This was the first time the editors had heard laughter since their arrival.
"We might all die!"
The old man stopped laughing, his voice low as he spoke the words, which were neither question nor statement.
"But we’ll die a magnificent death!"
the person beside him boomed in response.
"We might fail!"
Another roared, their voice taut as a drawn bowstring.
"But we will have forged a path to victory!"
"We might be destroying humanity’s last hope!"
"But in doing so, we will shatter despair!"
"Perhaps no one will answer our call!"
"Hahahaha, then the nine of us will be enough!"
With every pause, someone would step forward to answer the roar of conviction.
"Perhaps... we can end all of this!"
The breathing of the other eight grew heavy, roaring like a hurricane.
"ROAR—"
The explosive, unified roar made the editors’ eardrums ache and their ears ring, but they forced themselves not to cover them.
"We WILL end all of this!!"
The nine roared in unison, the sound echoing endlessly through the valley.
They gazed at one another, and through the exchange of their Magic Power, everything was conveyed—including the light of faith in their hearts.
"By my flesh, by my soul, by my Magic Power, I swear! I will burn every last ember of my life to spread the Light of Dawn across this world!"
BOOM~BOOM~BOOM~BOOM~BOOM~BOOM~BOOM~BOOM~BOOM~
The Magic Power around the nine erupted, creating a violent gale as its brilliant radiance converged overhead.
It coalesced into a burning Day of Dawn, growing larger and brighter as more Magic Power poured into it!
The light was so brilliant it illuminated the entire "arena," lit up the entire valley, and even cast its glow over the surrounding mountains.
And it would surely illuminate the entire world!