Conquering alien worlds starts from the game

"Where is the world full of flowers? If it really exists, then I will definitely go..."

Yang Qiu sat on the back of the undead lizard and crawled slowly on the winding and steep beast road in the Sorensen Mountains.

Here... is the area with the most dense miasma in the Sorensen Mountains.

Even though Yang Qiu was listening to "Dream Chaser" played on his mobile phone with headphones on, the trembling sounds that irritated the nerves of the head still pierced into people's ears.

"I never choose to give up on my ideals, even in the gray days..."

Yang Qiu was bearing the pressure from all directions with a blank face, even though the mist that looked like light smoke and mist, and rolled clouds in the mountains and forests he passed twisted into various terrifying shapes, he didn't look back.

"The Grave of the Fallen" Sorensen, the miasma here would have affected him two months ago, but now... it's really true.

"Maybe I don't have talent, but I have the innocence of dreams, and I will prove it with my whole life..."

The undead lizard climbed into the depths of the dense forest and stopped in front of a water pool.

Yang Qiu turned off the mobile phone player, took off the earphones, pulled up the hem of the robe and got off the lizard's back, stared at the water pool surrounded by bushes and rocks, and there were still footprints of wild animals on the ground around it, and took a step forward. Walk over and step into the pool.

The calm, waveless surface of the pool swayed...disappeared.

An ugly beast lying quietly among the rocks with its bloody mouth open, fiercely and swiftly bit Yang Qiu's legs.

Yang Qiu didn't move, didn't blink his eyelids, just quietly staring at this ugly beast.

The monster's mouth, which was bigger than its head and body, failed to close. Before its ferocious teeth touched Yang Qiu, its body as big as a horse and flat on the ground was disintegrated into black dust, which dissipated with the wind.

When souls and bodies collide or devour each other, the essence of the soul is more than the difference in combat power between different species; the low-level monsters that are alienated from fallen souls with at least six or seven hundred mental powers have a difference of ten years in forcible attacks. Yang Qiu, who was more than twice as many, would naturally end up in ashes...

The caster of this world is not a glass fort.

Yang Qiu sat down where the ugly monster was lurking.

The souls that have degenerated into alienated monsters will unconsciously move closer to the area that makes them feel comfortable. Yang Qiu found this relatively powerful low-level monster after wandering around the miasma area for a long time. Qiankun——As soon as Yang Qiu sat down, he felt a strong sense of dizziness, and the trembling sound lingering in his ears became more and more piercing.

Satisfied, Yang Qiu adjusted his breathing and entered into meditation.

The perception is wide open, and the crazy breath that has been accumulated for a long time is like a group of piranhas that suddenly smell fishy, ​​rushing towards Yang Qiu with joy.

If the magic power of the outside world is poisonous sugar water that allows people to absorb nutrients, then the misty miasma in the Sorensen Mountains that is so thick that it has undergone qualitative changes and can be seen intuitively with the naked eye is a poisonous poison that will kill you if you touch it.

With his eyes closed, his inspiration was fully open, and he calmly watched the crazy aura rushing towards him from a spiritual perspective.

What he "sees" is not highly poisonous or crazy, but broken and messy soul fragments.

The Sorensen Mountains have not been surrounded by miasma since ancient times. 400 years ago, these mountains were the largest trade route in the southern part of the Nabalon continent.

When the shadow of the ancient god's revival shrouded the entire continent, and when the void demons began to burst out from the occasional unstable cracks in time and space, the mountains of Sorensen gradually became a restricted area of ​​life, as if they were cursed.

More than 200 years ago, when Yang Qiu was still living in the old man's mage's tower, the Sorensen Mountains had an alias of "The Grave of the Fallen"... No one knows how many out-of-control people regard these mountains as their own. The Burial Ground.

What can be confirmed is that this huge "grave" is not a clean resting place.Opening up his inspiration, Yang Qiu "sees" many fragments that are so fragmented that they can no longer be called souls, leaving only fragments that devour the killing instinct.

He "heard" their voices, and the chaotic wails and trembling were like steel knives cutting people's nerves.

Yang Qiu calmly "watched" them.

It's like looking at Carmol, Westam, and the suffering, confused and numb mechanical people in the places he traveled.

They are also sentient beings.

Yang Qiu's background on Earth was not very good, his original family was in a mess, his father abandoned his wife and children, his mother who understood small things and was confused about big things, and unreliable relatives...

Before Yang Qiu went to middle school, what impressed me most in my memory was that every New Year’s day, my mother would put him in the most ragged clothes, and drag him to the neighborhood committee to find someone to complain about, just for the neighborhood committee to condolences to low-income households. Their family can receive half a barrel of oil and a few catties of rice noodles.

Yes...Because of his father's irresponsible abandonment of his wife and son, before the elder sister Yang Ying became an adult, part of the source of living expenses for their family came from his and the elder sister's subsistence allowances.

The elder sister graduated from high school and gave up college to work. Their family's income exceeded the city's subsistence allowance standard, and Yang Qiucai escaped from the embarrassment of biting the bullet and acting pitifully.

He never felt how happy his life was. After he went to high school and found that there were so many rich-spending classmates among his peers, he didn't complain less.

Until he came to this world inexplicably.

Only then did he realize...it turns out that life can be more bitter.

It turned out that his mother dragged him to perform for half a bucket of rapeseed oil and a few catties of rice noodles. Some people have worked hard with sweat and sweat, and they have to get a few pieces of black bread that they deserve Kneel down and lick the butler's shoes.

It turns out that his envy and jealousy towards his classmates are so ridiculous that they are not worth mentioning. Some people are born noble and enjoy luxury; The wish is not to die hungry.

It turns out that the words "the wine and meat of the Zhumen stink, and the bones on the road are frozen to death" and "those who are covered with silk are not silkworm farmers" are such heavy words.

It turns out that the Buddhist concept of "all beings are suffering" is not just for fun.

Yang Qiu is not willing to accept this kind of world that makes people feel cold when looking at him twice. He desperately struggles to survive and become stronger. He wants to go home, even if he can't go back. Now, at least find a way to leverage this fucking world, so as not to let yourself suffer this innocent crime in vain.

But the reality is hopeless. The stronger Yang Qiu is, the more he realizes that he can't do anything—the era of breech-loading guns can still revolutionize, but in this world where gods are everywhere and the extraordinary is not as good as a dog, no matter how he deduces and calculates , with no hope of success.

Not to mention that the people turn over and become the masters, even a second-class capital revolution cannot be achieved.

The world had completed the industrial revolution more than 100 years before he crossed. When he crossed, dense airships could be seen in the sky of big cities, 10,000+ tons of giant sea ships crossed the open sea, and magic steam train tracks were laid. Arrived at the capital of an inland country like the Rhine Kingdom.

Simultaneously developing with the magic industry, there are tens of millions of industrial workers across the continent, factories blooming everywhere, and a large number of emerging capitalist aristocrats.

These emerging capitalist aristocrats did challenge the authority of the feudal aristocracy to some extent, but they were still far away from social changes, such as the unified ideological wars of the American Civil War.

The reason is very simple. The ancient god's guillotine hanging over everyone's head and the invasion of the void demon have curbed the expansion of capital power.

When the nature of capital devouring everything is contained, it will turn conservative. Those developed countries on the earth that have carved up the high-end manufacturing industry and sat down to eat their ancestors' money for decades have proved the inertia of capital in this regard.

The capital that is most likely to trigger social change has been saved, so what can the people do?

What can Yang Qiu do?

He can't do anything.

He can only let himself see all beings, see their suffering, and listen to their pain.

He has no power over the status quo, at least he must know the suffering of all beings.

He opened his inspiration and accepted the highly poisonous magic mixed with countless painful soul fragments. He heard countless voices wailing in his spiritual realm, and he felt the painful groans of countless people echoing in his soul.

His soul ached like it was being torn apart.

Yang Qiu remained unmoved, allowing these chaotic and crazy consciousnesses to shuttle through his mind.

A voice cried out a confession to his mother.

There was a voice regretting that I had let down my life.

There was a voice venting its dissatisfaction with so-and-so.

A voice screamed involuntarily.

There is a voice complaining about the injustice of fate.

There is a voice cursing all life in the world, wishing that everyone would fall into purgatory like it.

In the severe soul tearing pain, hallucinations began to appear in front of Yang Qiu's eyes.

In a poor seaside town, in a stinking fishing port, a man stood beside a dilapidated wooden boat and looked at him in horror.

The man smiled flatteringly at him, said some pleasantries between strangers, then left with an excuse, and ran towards the town without looking back.

He found a wanted criminal worth [-] gold coins, and he hurried back to inform the sheriff.

When Yang Qiu left the small town, the fisherman, who had worked hard for his family for more than ten years, had his arms and legs broken and hung on a fishing net rack.

He didn't do anything wrong, he just wanted to get rich, so Yang Qiu didn't make it difficult for him... But he caused the sheriff to be hung on the wind direction chicken by Yang Qiu and drank the northwest wind all night, of course the sheriff wouldn't Let him go.

The man in the hallucination looked at Yang Qiu dying.There was no hatred in his eyes, only pleading to please.

Yang Qiu remembered this begging look in his eyes for many, many years.

The phantom of the man dissipated, and what appeared in front of Yang Qiu... was a large group of people.

A large group of people in ragged clothes, shaped like skeletons, with vague faces.

Yang Qiu stared fixedly at this group of people for a long time, then thought to himself, ah, it's you.

deserter.

There are frequent natural disasters in the Nabalon continent, but there is no uncle of the People's Liberation Army in this world.

The victims who couldn't survive and had to flee in groups were regarded as hot potatoes that brought trouble by the consuls of various places.

Yang Qiu didn't know where this group of people came from, he only remembered that he met this group of people when he escaped from the Holy Land of Lieyang Church.

Behind him was an angry pursuer, and Yang Qiu couldn't stop.

Even if he knew that this group of fugitives with the old and the young could not be accepted by the Holy Land, they would only be driven into the wilderness of no man's land, where they died quietly where people could not see... He did nothing, Just glanced at this group of deserters who were destined not to survive the winter of that year, and hurried away.

I haven't forgotten you... how could I forget, not far from this group of deserters is the magic steam train roaring past.

The phantoms of the deserters disappeared like bubbles, and another group of people emerged.

Looking at these phantoms lingering in the depths of his soul, Yang Qiu gradually calmed down.

He knew very well that these images were his demons, the embodiment of his own powerlessness, and the guilt and regret engraved in his soul.

He never wanted to forget them, and when he saw them again, he didn't feel embarrassed, just knew himself better.

During these 300 years, he has realized his own powerlessness countless times. This is an objective fact, and there is no need to cover up and beautify it.

After a long time, Yang Qiu showed a slight smile: "I saw you...I remember you."

"forever."

The magic power surging around Yang Qiu's body suddenly climbed upwards.

This active, boiling magic power instantly attracted the silent magic power within a kilometer radius. In and outside the forest, countless magic power rushed to this dense forest, clustered and gathered, and gradually formed a magic vortex.

The filthy magic power that can keep the Holy Land Prophet who holds the sealed item away from him hovers, boils, accumulates, merges with each other, and gradually solidifies. After ten minutes, the quality becomes irregular crystals visible to the naked eye.

Yang Qiu looked up at the huge translucent magic crystal, supported it with his hands, and stood up from the ground.

The giant irregular crystal floating in mid-air and slowly rotating, radiated brilliance and enveloped Yang Qiu in it.

A few kilometers away, in a certain mountain in the Sorensen Mountains, a caravan from the Southern Continent was passing through the "safe passage". The mercenaries guarding the caravan looked at the mountain top that had just shone with dazzling light, and were all dumbfounded.

A mercenary said in horror: "That is... the gate of the realm? Someone actually went to the Sorensen Mountains to advance?!"

"Gods, with such a big realm gate, is there someone advancing to legend?"

The mercenaries looked in that direction in amazement, and the captain of the mercenary was also watching the excitement. Suddenly, he thought of something, and hurriedly urged: "Don't even look at it, go quickly! The legendary gate of the realm is not very exciting. If the guy who came to advance from Sorensen loses control, he will be in big trouble!"

When the mercenaries heard this, they quickened their pace.

Whether it is a spellcaster or other professional level, if you want to step into the ranks of the extraordinary, you must step through the "gate of the realm".

The "gate of realm" is not a door, but a beam of light.

It's just that people who have been shrouded in light prefer to call it a door.

Yang Qiu, who stepped into the "door" for the third time, opened his eyes, and what appeared in front of him was a white world of nothingness.

The world behind the "gate" is like void, but it is not void.

The Void is the end of all nothingness, the place of all terror, the end of all death.

Behind the "door" is order, rules, and inspection and testing from the laws of the plane.

As soon as Yang Qiu recovered from the dislocation feeling of entering the "door", he felt the familiar heavy pressure again, as if he had been sunk into the bottom of the deep sea.

This feeling is very bad, the air seems to have become viscous like a liquid, not only is it difficult to breathe, but it also seems to be being pressed down by an invisible hand in the mind and spirit, as if to press his whole body to the ground Down, completely crushing his spirit and will.

This is not the bad taste of a certain god, but just the coercion unconsciously exerted by the law of the plane behind the "door".

This level of shaming power is very suitable as a "threshold"...Challengers with insufficient willpower and lack of tempering will be defeated at this level.

Yang Qiu, who came in twice, naturally wouldn't take this level of coercion seriously. After getting used to the environment behind the "door", Yang Qiu raised his head and looked up into the sky.

Above, there is a huge and cold pale pupil.

"The Eye of Truth." Yang Qiu called out the real name of the pale pupil.

The pale and colorless pupils turned to Yang Qiu.

The law of the plane is not a personal god, it does not possess spiritual intelligence, nor does it have emotions. When the creatures passing through the "gate" whisper its real name, it will give a completely fair baptism.

The surging energy fell into the pale pupils and rolled towards Yang Qiu.

Yang Qiu spread his arms and accepted the impact calmly.

The baptism of power given by the Eye of Truth depends on the size of the "gate" that the creature passes through.

This is considered the fairest treatment for creatures in this magical world other than death, and it is also the only ladder that people from poor backgrounds can count on to reach the sky.

It's just...the power of this world is poisonous; even the eye of truth of the impersonal god, which represents the laws of the plane, and the baptism of power bestowed by fairness are equally poisonous.

The moment he was hit by the force, Yang Qiu's whole body trembled violently, and even his consciousness began to blur.

The flow of information that cannot be summed up in words plows through every inch of nerves, and every second is so long that it makes people want to go crazy.

While struggling against the baptism of power like a torrent, the hallucinations that had just disappeared reappeared again.

And...it was stronger and clearer than when Yang Qiu used the special environment of the Sorensen Mountains to rehearse the baptism for himself.

Yang Qiu's whole body convulsed, his mouth and nose were bleeding, and he felt dizzy for a while.

The images of the group of deserters he had seen to die were almost solidified on his retina, and he could clearly see how lifeless the numb eyes were on the thin faces of those people.

When he maintains what he believes to be fair in a simple and rude way, it is clear that the people he wants to help fear and loathe him more than the people he targets.

He began to tremble, body and soul.

His mind started to go haywire.

Tears of regret rolled out of the eyes, mixing with the bloody taste in the mouth.

In a daze, a melody suddenly sounded in his mind.

When he was confused and tired, the melody dragged him out of depression countless times and continued on.

"...run forward, meet cold eyes and ridicule..."

"How can the vastness of life be felt without suffering..."

"Fate can't make us kneel down and beg for mercy, even if our arms are covered with blood..."

Yang Qiu opened his blood-red eyes, panted and spat out the blood foam in his mouth.

His nerves, soul, and body all seemed to be washed away by the sharp and violent current, making him in agony.

But his brain is awake.

The melody in his mind that he was very familiar with and that he liked very much before he traveled, carried all the longing for his hometown in the long years of 300 years, and had long since penetrated into his bones and blood.

Now, it is instinctively awakened by memory, gushing out from his blood and blood, feeding back his will and spirit.

"How can you see the brilliance of life if you don't stick to it..."

"Rather than linger on, it's better to burn to your heart's content. For the good in your heart, don't compromise until you grow old..."

"—Old man, never compromise!"