CHAPTER 167: CHAPTER167-THE CONTROL CONSOLE

A flash of light streaked across the void.

Daniel’s figure reappeared, moving through the depths of the Time River.

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself standing in the storage vault—at the exact moment he had just obtained administrative access to the Primordial Core Weapon.

But now was not the time to use the weapon.

Even though the area was remote and far from the lands of most races, detonating a Primordial Core Weapon here would almost certainly cause collateral damage to allied forces.

With that thought in mind, Daniel decisively activated [Flashback], and in the next instant, he appeared inside a highly classified chamber.

The security level here was no less stringent than that of the Primordial Core Weapon vault.

However, now that Daniel had full mayoral privileges, he had unrestricted access to this room.

Inside it, he found what he was searching for—the control console for [New Life].

Yes, that’s right. The god-like being produced by the Godmaking Project was not just a wild, uncontrollable force.

It could, in fact, be commanded.

These Artists were madmen. They had even dared to dream of stealing the power of the gods in order to destroy the world.

As he lamented their insanity, Daniel began interacting with the control console in front of him.

In truth, defeating [New Life] didn’t necessarily require brute force.

Now that he had administrative control, he could simply change the creature’s parameters directly from the console. Why bother fighting when reprogramming could solve the problem?

With that thought, Daniel began to alter [New Life]’s internal data.

"Artists? How could they possibly be friendly units? Change them all to enemy status."

"As for friendly units—well, that would be the myriad races."

Once all the settings were in place, Daniel exhaled in relief. Still, just to be cautious, he didn’t designate the Abyss faction as a friendly race. Nor did he set them as enemies. Instead, he labeled them neutral.

If the Abyss behaved themselves, [New Life] would leave them alone.

But if they insisted on opposing him—if the demon clans, for example, decided to cause trouble—then they would be marked as enemies as well.

As for whether this control console would be destroyed alongside the Artist City, Daniel wasn’t worried in the slightest.

He had already obtained the blueprint for building such a console and fully understood how it functioned.

Recreating it was only a matter of time.

And from his earlier experiments, Daniel had also determined that even if the entire Artist City were annihilated, [New Life] itself would not perish.

All he needed to do was build a new control console, and everything would fall neatly back into place.

[New Life] would still be under his control.

As he finalized the parameter adjustments, [New Life]’s massive central eye began to display a look of confusion.

Then, a prompt appeared before Daniel’s eyes:

[Parameter modification successful.]

Daniel blinked and instantly teleported back to [New Life]’s location.

But now, with its internal settings altered, the once-hostile [New Life] no longer perceived Daniel as a threat.

In fact, it had begun to develop hostility toward the sleeping Artists scattered nearby.

Daniel quickly used his mind power to soothe the creature’s agitation, issuing a direct mental command: "Stand down. Enter standby mode."

[New Life] obeyed without resistance.

Daniel’s eyelid twitched. Just as he suspected.

He could manipulate [New Life] directly using mind power, issuing orders and modifying parameters even without the console.

That confirmed it—control was absolute.

With everything now under control, Daniel smirked and pulled out the God of Thieves’ dagger.

With a flick of his wrist, he cloned [New Life]—again and again.

Eventually, twenty identical copies of the massive entity floated above the ruins of the Artist City.

Their colossal forms nearly blanketed the entire city.

Daniel stroked his chin with pride.

As despicable as the Artists were, he had to admit—they were a veritable treasure trove of experience.

Without them, how else could he have grown so powerful so quickly?

He had to give credit where it was due: these madmen had dedicated thousands of years to their research, and now, Daniel was reaping the rewards.

After completing the cloning process, Daniel moved on to his next phase.

With the help of his clones, he established a vast network of Anygates across the entire Artist City.

Thanks to his preparation and the assistance of his duplicates, the installation process was completed in record time.

All the Anygates had been calibrated to connect to the northern frontier of the human territories.

However, given the sheer size of [New Life], standard portals would not suffice. Daniel had to build a series of supersized Anygates to accommodate their transfer.

Despite the Artists’ technological advancement, they had never developed a long-distance teleportation method akin to Anygates.

Thus, [New Life] had always served them as a stationary defense weapon.

But to Daniel, using such a powerful being for defense alone would be a massive waste.

He intended to take them to the frontlines.

Hence the dozens of massive portals—built for the express purpose of relocating his new army.

...

Winterhold Castle.

The Human Emperor was currently overwhelmed, scrambling to respond to the new crisis brought on by the reappearance of the Artists.

He had just received word from the Royal Society.

The moment the Artist forces showed signs of resurgence, the Human Emperor issued the highest-level security alert.

All human experts and military divisions were ordered to enter a state of total readiness.

They were preparing for a battle that would determine the future of their race.

The truth was, the humans had long since anticipated the arrival of the Millennium Apocalypse.

Every elite warrior was already on standby.

The moment the order was given, they would launch into action without hesitation.

The Human Emperor knew how dangerous the Artists could be.

Even if he personally led the charge, there was no guarantee they could completely wipe them out.

Especially if the Artists had access to the Primordial Core Weapon—against such power, not even he was sure he could return alive.

But regardless, he had no choice but to march forward.

In the face of the Millennium Apocalypse, sacrifice was a given.

Without sacrifice, the entire human race could be wiped out—just like the gnomes, who had been eradicated without even managing to resist.

If humanity wanted to survive this calamity, they would have to strike first—launch a full-scale assault on the Artists.

But against such powerful foes, only the finest troops could hope to win.

What puzzled the Human Emperor now was the state of the Artist City.

It looked as though it had already been looted.

So many Artists... yet not a single one was active.

Could this be a rare opportunity?

Could it be that something had already gone wrong for the Artists?

Regardless of what had happened, the Human Emperor saw this as a chance.

A chance to destroy them once and for all—with minimal losses.

He felt no sympathy for the enemy.

All he wanted was to eradicate these maniacs at the lowest possible cost.

But just as he was about to give the command to mobilize...

A massive shadow fell over Winterhold Castle.

A strange and inexplicable terror gripped the Human Emperor.

His scalp tingled.

His breath caught.

Something terrible had arrived.