I played with Irs and Ichia for a bit.

As the Hundred Races army took turns trying to bring me down, they both alone took the vanguard.

We fought for three thousand years, until even the last drop of Qi in their bodies was exhausted.

All this time I didn’t even break sweat.

Irs and Ichia had bathered breaths.

The Hundred Races army turned into a fortified Hundred Races Country, with ninety-nine cities forming a huge magic suppression array which was meant to make things more difficult for me.

They hunted, planted, fished, defended against magical beasts, conscripted rational beings from over all the continent and stabbed one another in the back for power within the country.

So, I hit Ichia with a little more strength, sending her flying against the First Citys’ castle.

She destroyed the walls and foundations, her bright body losing all its luster.

She wasn’t dead, of course. Immortals don’t die so easily. But it would take her a few dozen thousand years to recover enough to be bed-ridden.

“Now”

I whispered to Irs, showing the Pearl on my neck. An illusion down in the town showed a Long-Lived human qi cultivator throwing a Spear to him before being struck by my lightning defensive shield.

Irs took the Spear and broke the pearl on my neck.

I smiled as the Magic Power of an entire World resounded, starting to explode.

Irs tried to take it all with his own body, but a great amount still leaked towards the cities.

All the ground around and most of the living races in the planet were in risk of being destroyed.

Still, what happened was that a miraculous event took place - mountains appeared in the horizon, the ground changed its shape in a fraction of second and a huge Qi vein was formed bellow us, all the Magic Power sweeping through it, circumventing the whole of Tiphoon and spreading it around like a small snowfall.

Obviously, the one to do it was me.

This huge vein was the way I had devised of spreading the Magic Power in the pearl all over Tiphoon in a discernible manner.

If I only released it randomly, then it would end up being stored here and there.

If I just made it fall all over without any prior preparation, it would be a waste - the stupid dogs would surely start to hoard it again as soon as they saw precious magic stones in the ground.

“Tell them it was Tiphoon. I want no more ‘gods’ being worshipped on it, or Magic being wasted on foolish power and wars.”

These were my last words to Irs, before departing towards Hestia once more.