Chapter 79: Destined to Return to His Throne.

Chapter 79: Destined to Return to His Throne.

A few minutes earlier, the entire dungeon world collapsed with an overwhelmed shriek.

The sky crumbled, the earth disintegrated, but Luo Shengle’s system transfer progress bar was stuck at 80%.

Just as she was about to fall into the rift between worlds—where she might be torn apart by the immense dimensional tides—Grandma Li fulfilled her promise.

An enormous, limitless hand lifted Luo Shengle, becoming a "land" for her to stand on.

Luo Shengle gazed in awe at the scene before her. The life lines of the old woman’s palm were like vast ravines, her wrinkles like undulating peaks, leaving Luo Shengle with an unspeakable reverence.

Though she had once glimpsed a fragment of Mr. Narrator’s essence in a dream, that had been a distant and blurry sight—nothing compared to this close encounter with Grandma Li.

Luo Shengle could hardly imagine: if Grandma Li’s true form was already so monumental, then Mr. Narrator, whom Grandma Li bowed to in reverence…

That must be the true "World Serpent" as described in myths and legends.

Out of curiosity, Luo Shengle gathered her nerve and risked a look backward—only to immediately turn back around, her expression stiff and dazed.

...She had miscalculated.

Only at that moment did she realize she might have a slight case of fear of colossal beings.

Li Lanyin, whose palm alone was as vast as land, had a body that resembled a monstrous effigy. The red of her sweater cascaded forth like a churning sanguine tide, transforming into a cloak that enveloped her entire form. The red fabric hung low over her forehead, casting a shadow over the old woman’s timeworn visage.

But the most horrifying sight was the black coffin strapped to her back—from within it stretched countless pale, corpse-like hands, scattered like white blossoms around Li Lanyin’s body.

At first glance, Luo Shengle nearly mistook those hands for the flawless lotus flowers beneath a Buddha’s throne. Only upon closer inspection did she realize they were a tangled mass of hands, twisted into chaotic shapes.

And from the gaps of the black coffin, where thousands of hands emerged, came gusts of sepulchral breeze.

The wind, perhaps from some unknown realm of death, carried the commingled stench of frost, corpses, and decay, sending chills down Luo Shengle’s neck.

She even had the illusion that she, standing on the old woman’s palm, was beginning to rot—slowly descending into the coffin’s underworld.

Fortunately, the system’s progress bar resumed, quickly reaching 100% and whisking her away to her original world.

Finally watching the figure of the Fate Believers vanish, Li Lanyin lowered her hand and stepped forward into the primordial chaos beyond the world.

Beneath her feet, countless bleached remains formed steps, allowing her to tread effortlessly, ascending steadily.

Had Luo Shengle still been here, she might have been even more terrified, because…

The corpses beneath Li Lanyin’s feet all shared identical features—Grandma Li’s own.

Innumerable corpses were tightly piled together, their postures contorted in death.

Most of the corpses’ faces were withered with age; a few were in their prime, occasionally interspersed with the cyanotic corpses of infants who had died young.

Some looked peaceful, untouched, as if they had died in their sleep;

Some were broken and bleeding, as if they had died in accidents or disasters;

Some were gaunt, their hair sparse, likely having wasted away from sickness…

Li Lanyin stepped over her own past corpses, her long crimson cloak streaming in her wake like a streak of blood.

Her expression remained unchanged—she was long accustomed to this.

As a superior in the domain of death, Li Lanyin’s Ability was called "Necrotic Canon."

She had gained enlightenment through myriad deaths, refining each corpse into weapons and steps, rising from the lowly birth of a peasant woman to stand beneath the Divine Throne, becoming a servant of the gods.

And now, after years of imprisonment by the false god, the Father of Cursed Nightmares—Li Lanyin felt she had finally found her fated destination.

Praise Fate.

Praise this merciful and compassionate True God.

Li Lanyin had little trouble locating the direction of the Lord of Fate, for the commotion between Him and the Father of Cursed Nightmares…

No, perhaps it would be more accurate to say the Lord of Fate’s one-sided hunt of the Father of Cursed Nightmares—was impossible to miss.

Even as Li Lanyin walked forward along the ossuary staircase, she sensed at least ten fearful gazes from divine beings.

Likely, there were also a few Recorders or Inquisitors working or traveling through dimensional rifts, stealing a moment to indulge their curiosity and witness the rare spectacle of divine battle.

Though Li Lanyin appeared to be a seemingly feeble crone (albeit a gigantic one), her hearing was sharp. She caught the trepidatious murmurs of divine beings:

"The SilverWhite Disaster truly earns its epithet… How terrifying. What if He comes to devour us one day?"

"Then we’re doomed. No saving us."

"Hm? Why is that friend over there so quiet?"

"Shh, I’m writing my will. If I’m ever swallowed by the serpent, I hope my Mother Goddess and sisters can read it…"

Li Lanyin: "..."

The corner of her mouth twitched beneath the shelter of her scarlet cowl. With conflicted reverence, she approached the presence of the Fate Serpent.

Then, she heard the deity speak:

"You, come here."

"Help me dress the kill."

Li Lanyin couldn’t help but glance where His coiled appendage pointed—there lay the final vestiges of her former superior, the Father of Cursed Nightmares, looking half-dead already.

She was somewhat stunned by the request, but it was no issue. The old woman was a battle-hardened demigod who had weathered countless storms.

Maintaining her humble posture, Li Lanyin softly confirmed, "You wish for me to handle this?"

"Yes," the massive serpent nodded, adding, "First, behead it."

"Don’t humans say something like, ‘remove the head and it’s edible’?"

Well…

With her extensive experience having lived many mortal lives, Li Lanyin was fairly certain that "remove the head and it’s edible" did not typically apply to ingredients like the Father of Cursed Nightmares.

But she would not contradict the deity she sought to follow. Smiling, she acquiesced: "By your will—and I thank you for granting me the chance to claim vengeance firsthand."

The serpent lashed its tail, indifferent to her gratitude, its eyes still remained riveted on the Father of Cursed Nightmares.

Clearly, He was eager to eat, the lesser serpents around Him hissing with barely restrained hunger, straining at their leash.

Seeing this, Li Lanyin allowed herself a ghost of a smile before obeying the deity’s orders and beginning her grim task.

She lifted her cloak, its crimson edge sharp as a blade, reminiscent of the scythe of Death from myth, and in an instant, severed the two gaping heads of the Father of Curses.

Then, with even strokes, she sliced the remaining limbs of the Father of Curses into evenly portioned cuts.

For a moment, Li Lanyin felt a pang of nostalgia, recalling the days when she was still an ordinary person, preparing eel dishes for holidays.

Only this time, the recipient of her service was no longer friends and neighbors from the village.

She would serve—the supreme deity.

Having completed her task, Li Lanyin lowered her eyelids, quietly waiting for Yi Fengchu to finish his meal, standing silent and reverent as a statue prostrated at the feet of a god.

Snakes do not chew.

Though Yi Fengchu’s true form differed significantly from that of an ordinary serpent—such as the scales covering His body that could flip open, the clusters of bestial eyes and smaller snakes beneath them, or the long stretch deep within His maw lined with denser, sharper fangs than ordinary fangs, capable of mimicking a "chewing" motion—instinct prevailed. He was accustomed to swallowing whole.

Even though the colossal cursed worm before Him had been sliced into sashimi, Yi Fengchu still devoured several pieces whole, consuming them voraciously, a far cry from the table manners of mortals.

*‘But it doesn’t matter, as long as the divine is satisfied.’*

Li Lanyin watched and waited, approving inwardly.

Before long, Yi Fengchu had completely devoured the body of the Father of Curses and finally acknowledged the familiar "intruder."

Without delay, Li Lanyin stepped forward and prostrated herself:

"Before the great Lord of Fate, King of the Silver White Snakes..."

She recited the long string of honorifics without pause, then continued, "This is the greatest honor for this unworthy servant."

"I long to reside by fate's waters, to become the sword in Your service that points toward Your enemies, the gatekeeper who guards Your sacred domain, the preacher who spreads the radiance of Your faith."

"May I be granted the privilege of receiving Your gracious permission?"

The object of her plea—the deity of fate—remained silent for a moment before sighing:

"Rather than these flowery speech, I would prefer to hear the voice of your heart."

In truth, Yi Fengchu’s meaning was simple:

What was this tiny figure before Him rambling on about?

Having just eaten His fill, He was in no mood to move much or expend much energy.

Faced with Li Lanyin’s flowery rhetoric, the great serpent felt slightly... overwhelmed by the verbiage.

The deity’s gentle sigh reached Li Lanyin’s ears, making her heart constrict.

Since ascending to demigodhood, she had inevitably interacted with many divine attendants and religious figures, gradually growing accustomed to the lavish praises and honorifics most gods favored...

She hadn’t expected this relatively young new god to have such a singular disposition.

He did not seem enthralled by the extravagant flattery of His followers. Those chilling snake eyes, capable of unraveling fate's threads, also seemed to plumb the depths of hearts of all living beings.

Faced with this great existence who governed the fates of all, Li Lanyin had to ponder His every word—for each utterance of the Lord of Fate might be a weighty prophecy.

He said He wished to hear the voice of her heart...

The words echoed in Li Lanyin’s mind, sending an inexplicable shudder:

Had He foreseen this day of her submission years ago?

Even the two crucial prophetic dreams she had experienced in her life—were they also revelations bestowed by this deity of fate and time?

Li Lanyin thought, He must know everything—her fate, the fate of all beings...

Yet He demanded she speak it herself, as a testament to absolute fealty.

After a brief hesitation, Li Lanyin took a deep breath and solemnly declared, "As You command."

"My faith in fate has long been embedded in my soul."

"For something once happened to me that transcended the laws of the occult—who would believe that a practitioner of the death domain was blessed with not one, but two dreams foretelling the future?"

At the mention of prophecy, a spark of curiosity seemed to pass through the serpent’s eyes. He lowered His head, assuming an attentive pose.

Though He didn’t understand why Li Lanyin had suddenly begun recounting her past, at least this time her words were simpler and more straightforward—more comprehensible.

Besides, Yi Fengchu had always been fond of strange tales.

Now comfortably coiled, His head resting atop the tip of His tail, He settled in to listen.

Li Lanyin’s voice, already low and weathered, imbued the tale with ominous mystery:

"The first dream came to me when I was still an ordinary farmer's wife. I dreamed that all the crops in the field withered, the earth cracked and bled, and from the fissures emerged a tome clad in human hide."

"The next day, I took my hoe to the field, found the spot from my dream, and indeed unearthed a 'book' buried in the soil... It was an ancient tome tainted with potent corruption from the death domain. It merged with my being, becoming my Ability—the 'Scripture of the Dead.'"

"The second dream came on the day I ascended to Rank 8. I dreamed of wandering an endless wasteland, my feet gnawed by filamentous vermin, leaving me in agony and thirst."

"At last, I arrived before a lustrous argent lake whose waters miraculously healed every wound. As I bent to scoop a handful, I saw in the reflection a sacred silver-white serpent..."

The silver-white serpent Himself blinked, His tail flicking subtly.

Was this... about Him?

Was this some new tactic divine beings used to court divine favor?

A blend of reverence, praise, and a touch of predestination—it could practically be recorded in the *Tome of Divine Supplication*.

Li Lanyin remained kneeling, lost in recollection, unaware of Yi Fengchu’s active musings.

She sighed deeply. "Now I see—the first dream ushered me into the occult, while the second revealed my destined path for my soul and faith."

"As You can see, my rise through the ranks, the foes I vanquished, the divinity I attained, and my journey to stand before You—all were guided by fate’s hidden revelations."

"Thus, I believe in fate."

The old woman’s age-roughened voice held conviction.

By now, even the divine beings observing from the shadows were moved.

Yet Yi Fengchu, never one for tact, ruptured the solemnity:

"But you still ended up in service to the Father of Curses, serving as His Apostle for a long time."

"...Yes. To this day, I believe He must have been the insects from the second dream, the ones gnawing at my feet all along."

Li Lanyin showed no quarter in her assessment of her former patron, the Father of Curses.

"I hope you can understand that newly ascended demigods like myself often face tight spots. Out of necessity, I had to take on short-term jobs issued by various deities and sects."

"One of them was crafting an artifact infused with death-domain power for the Father of Malediction at the time."

"At the time, I didn’t expect that He not only wanted to keep the goods but also intended to keep the creator prisoner... What happened next is exactly what you witnessed."

Yi Fengchu: "..."

Father of Malediction, what’s your deal?

How come both of your Apostles were conned and kidnapped?

No wonder not a single ally came to your aid before you died.

Turns out all the potentially loyal followers and devotees were killed off by you yourself, leaving only two reluctant Apostles of differing faiths...

Apostles who don’t even worship their own god—if this happened to any other god, they’d never live it down!

The small serpents beneath the great serpent twisted their heads, looking around suspiciously.

It seemed to hear the muffled snickers and mocking whispers of the divine beings lurking nearby...

Faintly, the voice of a young Recorder drifted through the dimensional cracks:

"I’m going to record this and submit it to *Mystic Realm Joke Monthly*!"

"Gotta post this on the forum ASAP—I can’t wait to see everyone’s reactions!"

"..."

The small serpent silently turned toward the sound.

The Recorder seemed to sense something and abruptly fell silent, like a choked chicken.

Not just the Recorder—even the mocking chatter of the nearby divine beings vanished. The bolder ones pretended they didn’t exist, while the timid fled in fear.

The area fell silent again, at least superficially, as if only Yi Fengchu and Li Lanyin remained.

This incident also reminded Yi Fengchu to maintain the fanatical believer act of Apostle Bryce!

Otherwise, if the Fate Apostle seemed even slightly fake, wouldn’t that put Him on the same level as the Father of Malediction?

So damn embarrassing!

As Yi Fengchu pondered, Li Lanyin continued, "Even during those long years of imprisonment, I never stopped believing that one day, you would arrive."

"From the moment I first became a demigod, it was fated—my fate would ultimately end up in your hands..."

As she spoke, she lowered herself further, her blood-red cloak billowing outward, spreading like a blood-red blossom.

Yi Fengchu studied her silently.

This was the first time Yi Fengchu had returned to His true form with such clarity. He realized the information filling His sight was far more intricate than when He was human—

The threads of fate seemed more tangible now. He could trace them back, glimpsing paths not taken from the past.

For instance, there was another path where Li Lanyin was never abducted by the Father of Malediction but instead roamed the mystic world solo.

In that possibility, she wouldn’t have met Yi Fengchu in the *old photo album* instance, but she would still one day perform the Prayer Ritual of Fate, engaging in almost the exact same words, pleading to become His servant.

How curious—two diverging rivers, yet both leading to the same end.

He mused that Li Lanyin wasn’t wrong. She truly was destined to serve Him.

Outwardly, the great serpent remained silent, stoic.

Inwardly, Yi Fengchu was desperately jabbing at His phone: "Tell me—"

The phone interrupted Him: "This is your follower, and she may become your attendant in the future. You don’t need my opinion."

Yi Fengchu: "[...No, actually, I wanted to ask—she’s applying for ‘Gatekeeper of the Divine Kingdom’—]"

"But... do I even *have* a Divine Kingdom?"

The phone: "."

"You don’t now, but... you *could*."

It hesitantly offered, "Why don’t you buckle down and research it? Try to outdo centuries of the Father of Malediction’s work to form a Divine Kingdom prototype... in just a few days?"

Yi Fengchu: "Hear yourself? Does that sound *remotely* possible?"