Full-time Creation Master

Busan!

It was once an international metropolis where neon lights wove a canopy and traffic flowed like a galaxy.

Today, it has been transformed into menacing military fortresses by thick concrete walls and crisscrossing steel barricades.

The runes of each super-level magic array were patched up, but all of them had energy flowing through them.

But at this moment, this formidable pass, which should have been filled with artillery fire and alarms, was eerily quiet.

The only sound was the mournful whistling of the wind sweeping across the crenellations of the city wall.

It suppressed the throbbing in people's hearts, and it also suppressed the low moans of the millions of monsters outside the city.

The two alloy city gates, like the drooping jaws of a giant beast, stood wide open to the darkness outside the city.

At the city gate, the tank gun barrels hung limply, their muzzles covered with a layer of sand and dust.

The machine gun emplacement was deserted behind its bunker, the scattered bullet casings gleaming coldly in the setting sun.

Weapons and equipment were carelessly discarded, some leaning against the wall, others half-buried in the dust.

A few pieces of clothing stained with dried dark red lay draped over the weapons, like forgotten offerings, silently telling of the panicked defeat.

Outside the city, there is an endless horde of ghouls (zombies).

Millions of rotting bodies huddled together, forming a writhing black sea.

The exposed white bones gleamed with a chilling light in the twilight, and hoarse growls intertwined into a thick sonic wave that almost murky the air.

Strangely, these monsters, driven by their bloodlust, all stopped just three steps away from the city gate.

Their scarlet eyes were fixed on the city, and they let out unwilling sobs, but not one of them dared to cross the line.

It was as if an invisible divine decree had firmly pinned their ferocity to the spot.

Breaking the deathly silence was a bright red figure.

Step~··

Thump~~~

Sarang walked slowly towards them.

She wore a floor-length dress, as red as freshly congealed blood, or as intensely burning flame.

The skirt was made of extremely light silk, yet it didn't become disheveled in the wind; instead, it draped slightly with her steps.

When the hem of her skirt swept across the ground, it only stirred up fine dust, without disturbing even the scattered bullet casings.

The skirt is embroidered with dark gold patterns, which are the divine patterns she awakened after ascending to godhood.

As the light shifted, the patterns seemed to come alive, subtly exuding a chilling divine pressure, making that extreme red appear even more noble and dangerous.

Her long hair was loosely tied up, with a few stray strands hanging down her neck.

A ruby ​​hairpin of the same color adorned the end of her hair, echoing the dark gold patterns on her skirt.

With each step she took, the gemstone on her hairpin reflected a cold light, falling on the kneeling crowd like the scrutiny of a deity.

Her steps were not fast, but they carried a natural sense of rhythm.

Each step seems to be in step with the rhythm of the human heart.

Her ankles were slender and fair, and she wore a pair of minimalist red satin shoes.

The heel tapped lightly on the ground, making a "thump, thump" sound.

In this excessive silence, this sound became the sole conductor's command.

A faint, almost imperceptible smell of blood lingered around him, but it was neutralized by a crisp, cool fragrance.

It was an aura of divinity and carnage, inspiring both awe and fear.

This is Salam, who ascended to godhood.

Gone is the worldly malice; all that remains is divine indifference and control.

But those narrow eyes held an unyielding madness.

It is the arrogance of looking down on all living beings, the pleasure of controlling life and death, and the mockery of manipulating the entire city.

She concealed this madness with ultimate elegance, only occasionally letting a hint slip through her eyes.

She walked into the city, which she had personally ordered to open its gates, her gaze slowly sweeping across both sides of the street.

Roads, squares, rooftops—wherever there was a foothold, Koreans were kneeling in dense crowds.

Some were dressed in rags, their faces streaked with tears and grime, their hands pressed tightly to the ground, their knuckles white.

Some were tense all over, their shoulders trembling uncontrollably, yet they bit their lips tightly, not daring to make a sound.

Some had ashen faces, their eyes staring blankly at the ground in front of them, as if their souls had been ripped away.

Regardless of age or gender, they all prostrated themselves in the most humble posture, their heads pressed against the cold ground, not even daring to raise their eyes to peek at her.

They had no idea who this figure in red was—the infamous Cardinal of the Black Vatican, Sarang!

They could clearly feel the overwhelming pressure that transcended all things.

That was the aura of a god, the result paved with the lives of tens of millions of Koreans, a power that could easily decide their fate. High-energy chapter 342, "The Evil God Salang Enters Busan," updated! Read now!

Sa Lang's lips slowly curved into a very faint smile.

It wasn't a hearty laugh, nor was it a vicious mockery.

Rather, it's a gentle smile tinged with compassion and a hint of playfulness, like admiring a work of art that pleases your eye.

She stopped and lowered her eyes slightly.

My gaze swept over an elderly man in the front row who was trembling all over. The hem of his red skirt fell gently down, almost touching the top of his head.

Without any deliberate elevation, it caused all the kneeling people to involuntarily stiffen.

"Your choice is wise."

She raised her hand, her slender fingers adorned with nail polish the same color as the hem of her skirt.

Fingertips traced the void, as if caressing the outline of the city.

"Open the city gates, submit to me, and you can survive."

"This is my gift to you, and your only way to survive."

As soon as he finished speaking, the ghoul horde outside the city suddenly let out an even more violent roar.

Yet they were still suppressed by an invisible force, unable to move forward.

Sa Lang tilted his head slightly and glanced at the darkness outside the city.

The madness in his eyes flashed for a moment, then vanished, replaced by an elegant indifference.

She is the conqueror of this city, a goddess who controls millions of monsters.

These kneeling beings before her were merely the most docile subjects within her divine domain.

........

"Internal strife is always a fundamental flaw in human nature!"

Sa Lang's voice remained clear and crisp, but now carried a hint of world-weary indifference, like a fine needle gently piercing the eerie tranquility of the room.

The people kneeling at the front all froze.

Leading the group was Kim Tae-hwan—the former Deputy Commander-in-Chief of the South Korean Army and Navy, and also the highest military and political commander in Busan.

His once crisp military uniform was now covered in dust, his epaulets crooked, and his former majesty had been replaced by humility.

Standing side by side with him were the heads of the Lin, Li, and Jin families.

These three clans were originally top powers in the Southern Kingdom and were also among the high-ranking administrative officials of Busan. However, at this moment, they all abandoned their usual arrogance, their luxurious robes were crumpled and wrinkled, and their foreheads were pressed tightly to the ground.

There was another person, with slightly graying hair and beard, who was none other than Sun Xuewen, the former third elder of the Peninsula Magic Association.

As a peak-level mage who had reached the pinnacle of transcendental mastery, he should have been a figure of reverence, but at this moment he was prostrate with the others, his hands pressed to the ground, his knuckles turning slightly white.

Upon hearing Sa Lang's words, the faces of these people flushed slightly, as if their deepest secrets had been touched.

But it was only for a moment, and they quickly composed themselves.

He remained kneeling with his head bowed, his eyes darting away.

They acted as if it were none of their business, as if the "inherent flaws" that Sa Lang mentioned had nothing to do with them.

Two figures stood out even more beside Sa Lang.

Blue Bat wore a blue and white cheongsam with delicate dark patterns embroidered on the collar. The skirt was just above the calves, revealing her slender and fair ankles.

Fang Shaoli wore a blue and pink cheongsam, with tiny pearls adorning the hem, which rustled softly as she moved.

The two women, with their exquisite makeup and upright posture, stood in stark contrast to the crowd crawling on the ground.

Their eyebrows furrowed slightly, their eyes filled with undisguised disdain, as they glanced at Jin Zai and his companions.

That gaze was as if he were looking at some filthy garbage.

Such spineless cowards, who would betray their compatriots and kill each other just to survive, would only be trampled underfoot and respected by no one even if they joined the Black Vatican.

A little distance behind Sa Lang and his disciples, the queue had already been set up.

The Black Vatican's high-ranking mages, clad in black robes, were surrounded by a dense magical aura, their eyes as cold as ice.

The monarch-level undead, exuding an aura of death, had bones that gleamed with a chilling, eerie light, and emitted a low growl from its throat.

The Light and Shadow Wolf King sent by Chu Ming was agile, with silver-gray fur gleaming in the setting sun, and golden eyes full of ferocity.

There are also undead vampires, with pale skin, blood-red lips, and languid yet deadly gazes.

They all looked at the kneeling humans with the same gaze one would give a dead man.

In their eyes, these people who betrayed their own kind had long lost the dignity of the living and were no different from the dying.

"Get up, everyone!"

Sa Lang's voice rang out again, his tone light and cheerful.

People are in high spirits when they have good news, and she was in a great mood today. She also smiled generously when she looked at Jin Zai and the others.

This smile was both a reassurance and a reward—a reward for these "great heroes" who had taken the initiative to respond to her surrender order and "exerted their subjective initiative" to thoroughly eliminate the "stubborn elements" in Busan.