National Guardian's Gone and We're Done

Chu He did not look at King Sharuk, seated upon his throne, but instead turned his gaze to the Divine Hall, glittering magnificently under the sun.

At the pinnacle of the Divine Hall, beneath the vast sky,

A series of magnificent, extraordinary murals unfolded. They were not a mere collection of colors, but a microcosm of the White Elephant Empire’s mythological world, each stroke and line imbued with the essence of ancient legends.

Within the murals, a thousand-armed Vishnu looked down upon all living beings with both compassion and majesty, his eyes seeming to hold the mysteries of the universe’s cycle.

Brahma sat upon a lotus, holding scriptures, his expression serene.

Shiva, meanwhile, was depicted both in dance and in stillness, flames encircling his body—an incarnation of destruction and a symbol of rebirth.

The Deities of nature: Indra, Apas, Surya...

The Deities of flora and fauna: Hanuman, Randy, Garuda...

These murals were a riot of color, yet harmonious. Their lines were fluid and dynamic. Every stroke seemed to carry the breath of the Deities, and every line told an immortal legend.

Even though the three Supreme Gods of the White Elephant Empire had fallen by Chu He’s hand, the echoes of their former existence still reverberated within the Divine Hall. The air was filled with an ineffable solemnity and sanctity.

Prismatic light poured down from the crevices and dome of the Divine Hall, shrouding the entire structure in a dreamlike haze of color.

Chu He moved like a Priest in an ancient ritual, slowly and solemnly raising a long, slender finger. Its tip quivered, disturbing the most delicate balance in the universe.

In that instant, time seemed to freeze, and the air filled with a solemn unease.

As his will coalesced, a power from the depths of chaos awakened at his fingertip, slowly weaving together into black and white.

Like the twin fish of a yin-yang symbol, they chased and separated, finally coalescing into a fist-sized orb of light with a subdued glow.

At first, the orb of light merely clung to Chu He’s fingertip.

The next moment, as if hurled by an invisible hand, it transformed into a meteor that streaked across the sky, carrying the dual rhythm of destruction and rebirth as it plummeted toward the towering Divine Hall.

This crystallization of human wisdom and faith, a glorious monument built at the cost of tens of billions, now seemed so small and helpless before the Yin Yang Power.

The moment the orb of light touched the Divine Hall, there was no expected roar or explosion—only an ineffable field of force that spread out instantly.

A black and white light erupted, like the most brilliant aurora at the break of dawn, yet it carried the chill of death.

The light rapidly expanded, forming a massive mushroom cloud of interwoven black and white—a study in opposition and unity.

It rose slowly, blotting out the sun and enveloping everything in chaos.

Scoured by this power, the Divine Hall offered no wail or resistance. Like snow melting in the sun, it silently dissolved into nothingness.

Bricks, murals, sculptures, even the very dust that bore the traces of ages—all were utterly annihilated by this power, leaving not a single trace behind.

All around, there was nothing but the eerie and magnificent black-and-white mushroom cloud. It was as if time had reversed, resetting everything to zero, leaving only a vast and silent emptiness.

The entire scene of destruction lacked any deafening roar, swirling dust, or earth-shattering tremor.

In an almost artistic manner, it quietly showcased the apex of power and the indifference of the universe.

A faint, elusive scent permeated the air—the smell of rebirth and destruction intertwined.

”Your Majesty!

We must now rally the full strength of the White Elephant Empire to resist this fiend who has invaded our lands!

Only then might we have a final glimmer of hope for survival, however slim it may be.”

The Grand State Preceptor, having lost all his former dignity, scrambled and crawled to King Sharuk.

He had long since lost his Magic Staff. Now, kneeling beside the throne, his eyes flashed with a cruel light as he spoke viciously.

King Sharuk merely gave the Grand State Preceptor a calm glance, then looked away.

He turned his gaze back to the figure in the sky.

A thought suddenly surfaced in his mind.

’If I could trade all the Deities of the White Elephant Empire—including Vishnu, Brahma, and Shiva—plus this useless Grand State Preceptor beside me, for Chu He, I would do it in a heartbeat.’

But alas, there are no ”what ifs” in this world.

Inside that Divine Hall, all the Divine Children and the so-called lesser Deities who served the three Supreme Gods...

...had all been annihilated by the impact of that interwoven black and white power. Not a single one was spared.

The Grand State Preceptor was scared witless by this scene, his heart pounding in terror.

Seeing that he couldn’t persuade King Sharuk, he steeled himself, gritted his teeth, and shot up from the ground.

His movements were incredibly swift as he snatched the King’s Staff from Sharuk’s grasp.

The King’s Staff was immensely heavy, its handle inlaid with dazzling jewels, but the Grand State Preceptor now gripped it tightly with both hands.

He summoned every ounce of his strength, raised the entire King’s Staff high, and brought it smashing down viciously on King Sharuk’s head.

With a sickening THUD,

King Sharuk’s head burst like a watermelon, spraying a grisly mixture of fluid, flesh, and bone in all directions.

The Grand State Preceptor was, after all, the man closest to the Deities, and naturally possessed power far beyond that of a mortal.

And how could King Sharuk, with his mortal frame, possibly be a match for the Grand State Preceptor?

A mortal body could never withstand a full-force blow from the Grand State Preceptor.

King Sharuk’s head, completely destroyed, detached from his neck and dropped to the floor.

The headless corpse remained seated on the throne, twitching sporadically.

King Sharuk hadn’t even had time to register an emotion before death claimed him.

The crowd was stunned by this scene, their eyes wide with utter disbelief.

They never would have dreamed that the Grand State Preceptor—a man second only to the king and revered by millions—

would reveal such a brutal and bloody side by murdering Sharuk, the king of the White Elephant Empire,

and smashing his head to a pulp at that!

The Grand State Preceptor dropped the King’s Staff, which was now covered in blood and gore,

and knelt directly in Chu He’s direction.

He declared loudly, ”Everything that happened was orchestrated by this ignorant, incompetent king!

It has nothing to do with me! I am merely an ordinary man who was enslaved by an Evil Spirit, with no power to resist.

I hope that Mr. Chu He can perceive the truth of the matter.

The White Elephant Empire has fallen into darkness and depravity. It needs a great figure to save it,

and that person can only be you, Mr. Chu He.

I am willing to become your representative in the White Elephant Empire, Mr. Chu He,

to help you govern this fallen and foolish land.”

The Grand State Preceptor spoke these words without so much as a blink, as if he were truly and utterly loyal to Chu He.

It was as if he would go through fire and water for Chu He without hesitation. His loyal facade was so convincing it was difficult to tell if it was real or fake.