Reading settings
**Chapter 61: The Death of Deacon**
In endless roars and despair, Deacon was split into five separate parts, with his main body locked inside Optimus Prime.
A vast amount of Allspark Energy was being expended, seemingly possessing some miraculous substance capable of severing Deacon's bodily connections at a particle level. The moment Deacon was completely separated, his doom was sealed.
"Is it over?"
The Old Bartender walked over, somewhat dejected, and plopped down on the ground. As his long-awaited enemy met his demise and his wish was granted, the Old Bartender felt a sense of disorientation.
Blade was covered in blood, his face silent. He had gone through a major upheaval in his life and felt that many things in the world had lost their meaning at this moment.
"Not quite, at least Deacon's main body isn't dead yet."
Several Transformers opened their respective sealed compartments, revealing dried blood. Only Optimus Prime's remained shut, tightly sealed, from which Deacon's panicked curses could still be heard.
Tony's expression was grim. Under the gazes of the three, Optimus Prime proceeded with layer-by-layer separation and dissection of the imprisoned Deacon.
Deacon's power was immense. He furiously pounded at his confined prison, but it was futile. Layer after layer of metal continuously fragmented and weakened him; a new generation's Blood God was steadily approaching his end.
When the prison was finally opened, Deacon had been so weakened that he could no longer maintain a Humanoid Form, leaving only some viscous blood. Deacon barely managed to form a face, staring at Tony with malevolence and hatred. It was this person before him who had destroyed everything he had, this Mutant who had ruined years of his efforts.
Deacon let out a mournful wail, like the last struggles of a dying Beast. He lunged at Tony, attempting a final desperate attack, but it was useless; Tony slapped him to the ground.
"I am the Blood God, I am the Blood God, I am the Supreme God..." Deacon's remaining head mumbled in the viscous blood. His eyes were glazed, his will completely broken, leaving only utter despair and numbness on his face.
"You're not that strong. At least, not as strong as you imagined. Even we unconsciously overestimated your power... In fact, I suspect any second-rate Sorcerer from Kamar-Taj could easily take you down."
Tony wasn't lying. From beginning to end, if they hadn't risked discovering the Allspark's peculiar properties, they would truly have been in dire straits. Physical attacks were almost useless against a creature like the Blood God.
Deacon's eyes were dull, losing their luster. It wasn't just the desire to survive, but the pain of a shattered dream. He didn't understand anything about Kamar-Taj; he only knew that everything was over.
Tony finally raised a blade and plunged it into Deacon's head. Several strikes later, Deacon's last traces were obliterated.
It was over. The era of the Blood God had ended. Once the veil of the Blood God was torn away, its demise was sealed. In this increasingly cruel era, a creature with severe limitations and obvious weaknesses could hardly endure.
Tony looked at the dried traces scattered across the ground, his gaze complex. The Old Bartender watched Tony curiously, not understanding why this young man had suddenly become so... melancholic? Blade, having gone through major life choices, felt numb and wanted nothing to do with anything, only wishing to quietly ponder by himself.
Deacon's fate now could very well be his own in the future; Tony had long been mentally prepared for this.
Countless terrifying enemies lay ahead: Dormammu, Hela, Kryptonians, Doomsday, Steppenwolf... these formidable beings, capable of crushing an entire civilization in direct confrontation, would appear one after another on Earth to unleash slaughter if left unchecked.
Furthermore, Planet-destroying Level Overlords like Thanos, Ego, and Darkseid were eyeing them menacingly, each with their own schemes. There were also the Celestials, who treated Earthlings as experimental subjects and periodically inspected them like livestock. Adding to this were powerful civilizations like the Kree, who dominated several Milky Way Galaxies, not to mention the Dark Elves, who once ruled the entire Universe, now resurging or already fully resurrected, beginning to cast covetous gazes towards the Yggdrasil (World Tree) star system where Earth was located...
Yet, internally, Earth was still polarized and squabbling over whether to officially accept the Mutant Community... What choices would Humanity make when Paradise Island, Atlantis, and K'un-Lun successively emerged in the future? Would even more intense arguments and divisions erupt than those aimed at Mutants?
At least Mutants were a subspecies born within Humanity, originating from people around them. But what about those descendants of Gods?
A mad era was dawning. Zeus, who was once forced by the Sorcerer Supreme to leap into an unknown Dimension, and the Eastern Immortals, who had fled far into the Cosmos, might also be plotting their return to Yggdrasil (World Tree). The Sorcerer Supreme, who suppressed countless Other Dimensions, was about to face the doubts and betrayal of his disciples; Odin, guardian of Yggdrasil (World Tree), was also nearing the end of his lifespan, slumbering for long years.
Within the entire Yggdrasil (World Tree) domain, among the Nine Realms, only Earth was temporarily peaceful. The other eight realms were already engulfed in war, fighting tooth and nail. Thor was still off somewhere with his great hammer, quelling rebellions. How could the Yggdrasil (World Tree) star system possibly face one enemy after another?
Earth, in front of these High-Level life forms who could effortlessly shatter planets, was too fragile, yet it had been targeted for various reasons.
The storm was brewing, and a sea of blood would soon engulf them.
"Now, let's kill all those Vampires... and then we go home!"
Tony took a deep breath, cast aside these thoughts, and suddenly raised his head, shouting. The three rushed into various passages, beginning the Purge of the remaining Vampires. The timid and clever ones had already fled at the first opportunity. Those who remained harbored different intentions, perhaps having heard Deacon's initial shout about Tony being special, not to mention those filming. Tony's Killing Intent was fully roused; he would eliminate all these scumbags.
Optimus Prime and the other war machines sprang into action, unleashing a massacre in every direction.
When the three of them gathered again, the entire underground area was already in ruins, covered in dried blood and the ashes left behind by burning Vampires.
The tremors from above ground had gradually diminished at some point, eventually ceasing. The Round Stele in the dome completely shattered and fell, and the twelve surrounding square steles collapsed one after another.
The entire Altar seemed to have fulfilled its mission, reaching its end alongside Deacon.
The three surveyed their surroundings, which were filled with the scars of a brutal war. They had achieved their wish, eliminating Deacon and the menace of the Blood God.
After a great battle, there was psychological satisfaction and solace, possibly mixed with a hint of confusion – a feeling experienced every time one walked the line between life and death... Theoretically, this would be the case.
Tony and the others sat there to rest. They were exhausted, especially Tony, who was experiencing this level of combat for the first time. He should have used this brief moment to rest and reflect... again, theoretically, that would be the case...
The Old Bartender's eyes widened. He pointed at a skinny figure that had appeared at some unknown time and asked, bewildered, "Who is that idiot?"
A scrawny figure had somehow sneaked in, at some point, and, as if no one else was present, pulled out a large net, used it to encase a broken Stone Stele, and tried to drag it away. But the Stone Stele was too heavy, completely beyond the skinny fellow's ability to move. The scrawny fellow spat on his hands and tried again, but still couldn't move it...
Tony saw Slim. His first reaction wasn't to question how he had entered so silently, but rather to instinctively search for something: "Huh, where's my brick?"
(end of chapter)
In endless roars and despair, Deacon was split into five separate parts, with his main body locked inside Optimus Prime.
A vast amount of Allspark Energy was being expended, seemingly possessing some miraculous substance capable of severing Deacon's bodily connections at a particle level. The moment Deacon was completely separated, his doom was sealed.
"Is it over?"
The Old Bartender walked over, somewhat dejected, and plopped down on the ground. As his long-awaited enemy met his demise and his wish was granted, the Old Bartender felt a sense of disorientation.
Blade was covered in blood, his face silent. He had gone through a major upheaval in his life and felt that many things in the world had lost their meaning at this moment.
"Not quite, at least Deacon's main body isn't dead yet."
Several Transformers opened their respective sealed compartments, revealing dried blood. Only Optimus Prime's remained shut, tightly sealed, from which Deacon's panicked curses could still be heard.
Tony's expression was grim. Under the gazes of the three, Optimus Prime proceeded with layer-by-layer separation and dissection of the imprisoned Deacon.
Deacon's power was immense. He furiously pounded at his confined prison, but it was futile. Layer after layer of metal continuously fragmented and weakened him; a new generation's Blood God was steadily approaching his end.
When the prison was finally opened, Deacon had been so weakened that he could no longer maintain a Humanoid Form, leaving only some viscous blood. Deacon barely managed to form a face, staring at Tony with malevolence and hatred. It was this person before him who had destroyed everything he had, this Mutant who had ruined years of his efforts.
Deacon let out a mournful wail, like the last struggles of a dying Beast. He lunged at Tony, attempting a final desperate attack, but it was useless; Tony slapped him to the ground.
"I am the Blood God, I am the Blood God, I am the Supreme God..." Deacon's remaining head mumbled in the viscous blood. His eyes were glazed, his will completely broken, leaving only utter despair and numbness on his face.
"You're not that strong. At least, not as strong as you imagined. Even we unconsciously overestimated your power... In fact, I suspect any second-rate Sorcerer from Kamar-Taj could easily take you down."
Tony wasn't lying. From beginning to end, if they hadn't risked discovering the Allspark's peculiar properties, they would truly have been in dire straits. Physical attacks were almost useless against a creature like the Blood God.
Deacon's eyes were dull, losing their luster. It wasn't just the desire to survive, but the pain of a shattered dream. He didn't understand anything about Kamar-Taj; he only knew that everything was over.
Tony finally raised a blade and plunged it into Deacon's head. Several strikes later, Deacon's last traces were obliterated.
It was over. The era of the Blood God had ended. Once the veil of the Blood God was torn away, its demise was sealed. In this increasingly cruel era, a creature with severe limitations and obvious weaknesses could hardly endure.
Tony looked at the dried traces scattered across the ground, his gaze complex. The Old Bartender watched Tony curiously, not understanding why this young man had suddenly become so... melancholic? Blade, having gone through major life choices, felt numb and wanted nothing to do with anything, only wishing to quietly ponder by himself.
Deacon's fate now could very well be his own in the future; Tony had long been mentally prepared for this.
Countless terrifying enemies lay ahead: Dormammu, Hela, Kryptonians, Doomsday, Steppenwolf... these formidable beings, capable of crushing an entire civilization in direct confrontation, would appear one after another on Earth to unleash slaughter if left unchecked.
Furthermore, Planet-destroying Level Overlords like Thanos, Ego, and Darkseid were eyeing them menacingly, each with their own schemes. There were also the Celestials, who treated Earthlings as experimental subjects and periodically inspected them like livestock. Adding to this were powerful civilizations like the Kree, who dominated several Milky Way Galaxies, not to mention the Dark Elves, who once ruled the entire Universe, now resurging or already fully resurrected, beginning to cast covetous gazes towards the Yggdrasil (World Tree) star system where Earth was located...
Yet, internally, Earth was still polarized and squabbling over whether to officially accept the Mutant Community... What choices would Humanity make when Paradise Island, Atlantis, and K'un-Lun successively emerged in the future? Would even more intense arguments and divisions erupt than those aimed at Mutants?
At least Mutants were a subspecies born within Humanity, originating from people around them. But what about those descendants of Gods?
A mad era was dawning. Zeus, who was once forced by the Sorcerer Supreme to leap into an unknown Dimension, and the Eastern Immortals, who had fled far into the Cosmos, might also be plotting their return to Yggdrasil (World Tree). The Sorcerer Supreme, who suppressed countless Other Dimensions, was about to face the doubts and betrayal of his disciples; Odin, guardian of Yggdrasil (World Tree), was also nearing the end of his lifespan, slumbering for long years.
Within the entire Yggdrasil (World Tree) domain, among the Nine Realms, only Earth was temporarily peaceful. The other eight realms were already engulfed in war, fighting tooth and nail. Thor was still off somewhere with his great hammer, quelling rebellions. How could the Yggdrasil (World Tree) star system possibly face one enemy after another?
Earth, in front of these High-Level life forms who could effortlessly shatter planets, was too fragile, yet it had been targeted for various reasons.
The storm was brewing, and a sea of blood would soon engulf them.
"Now, let's kill all those Vampires... and then we go home!"
Tony took a deep breath, cast aside these thoughts, and suddenly raised his head, shouting. The three rushed into various passages, beginning the Purge of the remaining Vampires. The timid and clever ones had already fled at the first opportunity. Those who remained harbored different intentions, perhaps having heard Deacon's initial shout about Tony being special, not to mention those filming. Tony's Killing Intent was fully roused; he would eliminate all these scumbags.
Optimus Prime and the other war machines sprang into action, unleashing a massacre in every direction.
When the three of them gathered again, the entire underground area was already in ruins, covered in dried blood and the ashes left behind by burning Vampires.
The tremors from above ground had gradually diminished at some point, eventually ceasing. The Round Stele in the dome completely shattered and fell, and the twelve surrounding square steles collapsed one after another.
The entire Altar seemed to have fulfilled its mission, reaching its end alongside Deacon.
The three surveyed their surroundings, which were filled with the scars of a brutal war. They had achieved their wish, eliminating Deacon and the menace of the Blood God.
After a great battle, there was psychological satisfaction and solace, possibly mixed with a hint of confusion – a feeling experienced every time one walked the line between life and death... Theoretically, this would be the case.
Tony and the others sat there to rest. They were exhausted, especially Tony, who was experiencing this level of combat for the first time. He should have used this brief moment to rest and reflect... again, theoretically, that would be the case...
The Old Bartender's eyes widened. He pointed at a skinny figure that had appeared at some unknown time and asked, bewildered, "Who is that idiot?"
A scrawny figure had somehow sneaked in, at some point, and, as if no one else was present, pulled out a large net, used it to encase a broken Stone Stele, and tried to drag it away. But the Stone Stele was too heavy, completely beyond the skinny fellow's ability to move. The scrawny fellow spat on his hands and tried again, but still couldn't move it...
Tony saw Slim. His first reaction wasn't to question how he had entered so silently, but rather to instinctively search for something: "Huh, where's my brick?"
(end of chapter)
