The Evil God is entering phase two.
Ian didn't find this surprising at all.
Before his transmigration, he occasionally played video games, and after crossing over, he quite enjoyed designing board games with magic. So, he was well aware that fighting a boss often meant encountering a second phase.
After years of struggling in the virtual world, he was already accustomed to the ironclad "common knowledge"—whenever you meet a BOSS, there's a high probability of them having a second phase. In those games, a BOSS might reveal some patterns in the first phase, but once their health reaches rock bottom, the style drastically changes, skills upgrade, and the difficulty soars.
This gaming experience has deeply imprinted itself in the cognitive systems of the players over time. When players project this aspect of gaming cognition into real life, it forms a unique perspective—major challenges or "BOSSes" they encounter in reality might also have a "second phase" like in games.
Yes.
In reality, encountering something similar is reasonable, after all, everyone knows that fantasy comes from reality. According to this logic, the fantasy setting of bosses having a second phase must also derive from reality.
Hmm.
No problem.
"Do you see it, Mage?" countless mouths opened simultaneously, "This is evolution! This is perfection! With every soul I absorb, I get closer to the ultimate form!"
With this blasphemous proclamation, the remnant shell of the Evil God.
The phantasm composed of light and dark, blood and gold—collapsed violently inward. Immediately, an indescribable stench combining a strong, putrid sweetness and metallic decay spread out.
Face after face simultaneously appeared on the same torso, with voices like a torrent of the wails of billions, exploding directly within Ian's soul.
The transformation of Set-Apep reached its peak at this moment.
His remaining human form completely disintegrated, the sixteen light wings melted into a viscous golden liquid enveloping the wildly expanding body. The originally perfect golden skin cracked and fell away, revealing the writhing flesh beneath. The faces of those devoured now surfaced directly on the body, protruding and sinking like bas-reliefs, emitting maddening whispers.
The most terrifying was his head—seven faces merged into one gigantic, compound eye structure, with a mouth beneath lined with spiral teeth. The ends of each arm transformed into different weapon forms: some turning into tentacles full of eyeballs, others into bone scythes, while some fingertips sprayed thick black mist.
The sky responded to this transformation. The pseudo-sun began to pulse, contracting and expanding like a giant heart, the light it cast turned thick like blood. The clouds twisted into impossible angles, as if the entire sky turned into a distorted oil painting. The air was filled with a sweet, rotten odor, just inhaling it caused dizziness.
The Egyptian sky, which had just regained some semblance of normalcy.
At this moment, it twisted and folded abruptly like a mirror struck by a boulder. The once warm sun was stretched into a pulsating giant eyeball oozing pus-like thick light, suspended in the sky, casting nauseating, sickly purplish-red rays. The earth groaned, ancient stones wiggled like living things, merging.
Forming countless glowing mucous hills. The Evil God was no longer Apollo's perfect reflection but rather the ultimate nightmare from the Cthulhu Mythos.
"Dumbledore is below…"
Ian instinctively took half a step back, even with his experience as a legendary wizard, he had never witnessed such a blasphemous scene against nature. His magic matrix screamed shrilly under the impact of this pure chaos energy.
The newly-formed enormous mouth of the Evil God opened and closed, spouting starlit black mist: "Thank you, Mage. It is you who made me understand... perfection lies not in uniformity, but in embracing myriad flaws."
"Have you seen the true essence of 'perfection'? This symphony of flesh, this tapestry of pain, this is the primal form of the universe! Your struggles, your 'magic', are nothing but a child's futile splashes in the mud!" Before the words finished, a massive tentacle, thick as a mountain and covered in suckers and sharp spikes.
It tore through the thickened air, carrying an irresistible weight, sweeping towards the ruins platform where Ian stood! Its speed, far surpassing any previous magic attack, was pure physical annihilation!
"Damn it! This is truly inhuman!" Ian urgently performed Apparition, and the ground he once stood on was riven with a bottomless chasm, leaking a colorful oily liquid.
"Armor Protection·Matrix Superposition!" Ian appeared thirty yards away, instantly setting up twelve layers of rotating magic shields. But the second wave of attack followed closely—three bone scythes slashed from different angles, shredding the magic shields like paper. Ian barely dodged the lethal blow by twisting his body, but his robe was torn.
His arm left with a gaping wound deep enough to see bone.
"What manner of monstrosity is this!"
Ian's pupils shrank sharply, survival instinct overpowering his physical limits.
"Run! Run!"
The Evil God's body emitted mocking laughter from all sides, "Let your fear season my banquet!"
He clearly enjoyed the thrill of the chase.
Ian gritted his teeth and waved his magic wand.
"Thunder Burst Chain Reaction!"
An unprecedentedly thick bolt of lightning struck the Evil God's chest, exploding with dazzling light. But when the dust cleared, it only left a scorch mark on the writhing flesh, which was healing at a speed visible to the naked eye.
"Pitiful magic."
The Evil God's compound eye rotated simultaneously.
"Let me show you true power." He suddenly disappeared from his spot. It wasn't Apparition but pure physical acceleration. Ian only managed to cast "Accelerated Thinking" on himself, slowing the world down—just in time to see a giant, scaly fist slowly moving towards his face.