Chapter 497 |
After speaking, the body of the six-level immortal possessed by Fenghun collapsed on the spot, dissolving into several gray-black spheres of light that floated in the air, radiating an aura of the same origin as demonic energy.
Daoyuan Heavenly Sovereign quickly gathered them up, his expression growing darker by the second.
Including the Left Arm, the sealed limbs of the True Demon in the various Demon-Suppression Abysses were useless burdens to the other Heavenly Sovereigns—but to people like him, they were of great value. That was the reason he had risked descending to the lower realm at such a critical time to demand the Left Arm from the Mages. Yet not only had that failed, now the Mages were marching to seize the remaining limbs. That was something he absolutely could not allow.
Even if he couldn’t stop them, he had to delay them for as long as possible.
He inserted his forefinger into his own temple, drew out threads of spiritual light, and crushed them one by one as he spoke coldly:
“Go.”
All across the Cataclysm Zone, at seemingly ordinary coordinates, terrifying demonic energy began to gather. The void corroded into black holes, and within those black voids sat innumerable demons cross-legged and motionless. Each one was of Super Dimensional level, and within every cluster, there was at least one ninth-level entity.
These demons were entirely unlike the chaotic swarms the Mages had previously encountered. Their bodies, apart from their color and the faintly unsettling aura, showed no signs of mutation. They sat in perfect formation, silent and still, like disciplined soldiers. A single glance was enough to reveal that they possessed clear, organized thought.
The instant Daoyuan Heavenly Sovereign crushed the spiritual threads and uttered his command, the ninth-level demons in each group suddenly opened their eyes. The demonic energy centered on them surged outward, awakening all nearby units in an instant. They rose in unison, stepped forward, and vanished into the void.
Cole Wallace, an eighth-level Free Super Dimensional Mage, was leading his legion toward a small world called Kara Plane.
The native race of Kara was aquatic—a civilization composed of intelligent oceanic beings. Its strongest defenders were four eighth-level seafolk who resided in the Sea Temple. Two hundred years ago, a small band of wandering demons had discovered the plane.
Though that demon band had contained no ninth-level entities, the seafolk had been slowly losing ground. Thus, upon hearing the general call for assistance, the one who called herself the Sea God dispatched an envoy to Xinyati.
Such small planes were countless, usually assigned to idle Super Dimensional Mages—both Free and affiliated—to pacify and subdue. With the Mages’ research on demonic energy advancing rapidly, and their countermeasures improving, Cole regarded this campaign as nothing more than a profitable routine mission. Even with a “personal gain tax” of forty percent, there was still ample reward to be had.
“At our current speed, we’ll arrive at Kara after the next jump,” said Grace, the mermaid Sea God and leader of the envoy. Like most races that came to Xinyati and saw the power of the Mage World, she had quickly adjusted her stance—her long-held arrogance buried deep beneath a calm surface. “Lord Cole, the Sea Temple of Kara is sincerely grateful for your aid.”
“No need for gratitude,” Cole replied with a faint smile, though his eyes were icy. “Just make sure you keep your promises.”
To him, thanks were meaningless. Grace was nothing more than an eighth-level slave in his eyes, and Kara had already become his personal property the moment he decided to intervene. Did a master require gratitude from his slaves? Of course not. Only obedience.
His gaze was so nakedly condescending that Grace’s suppressed fury nearly burst forth—but she swallowed it. Strength decided everything. She vaguely understood what fate awaited Kara, yet for the sake of her people’s survival, she had no choice but to accept it.
“Please rest assured,” she said softly. “We would never deceive you. Kara holds endless water-element resources. As long as you help us destroy the demons, we’ll share them with you. It’s only that... Kara’s future—”
Cole’s smile widened, but his tone was evasive: “Kara’s future can be discussed after the demons are eradicated. Any promise I make now would be meaningless if I fail, wouldn’t it?”
Before Grace could answer, the final spatial jump ended—
And before them, a titanic sword descended from the heavens, cleaving the floating Kara Plane clean in two.
Grace stood frozen, her pupils contracting violently before she lunged forward, grabbing Cole’s robe and screaming, “Help us! You promised! Please—help us! We’ll be your slaves!”
Cole’s calm completely shattered. He flung Grace away in panic, roaring, “Get away! Do you even know what that is, you fool?!”
Tears streamed down Grace’s face—each one crystallizing into a drop of pure water-element essence as it fell. Merfolk rarely cried, for every tear consumed their life essence, but in this moment, she could think of nothing else.
“Please! Save us! I beg you!” she sobbed, crawling toward Cole’s feet.
But within seconds, the colossal sword slashed down again and again, reducing Kara into drifting fragments. The once-azure seas turned crimson, then vaporized into nothingness in the void.
A ninth-level demon—and its army—had found the fleet. That sword was its attack.
The reports were wrong. This was not an enemy he or his legion could possibly face.
It was far too late. Slumped against the control platform of the starship, Cole opened a full-channel broadcast.
“Everyone... we’ve failed. End yourselves.”
Xinyati, Central Command Headquarters.
“Sir, following the fall of Sarat, Anqude, and thirteen other fronts, the Kara Expeditionary Force has been annihilated.”
The command hall fell into grim silence. It was the fourteenth total annihilation in barely over a year—and most had occurred far from any Demon-Suppression Abyss. Before this, they hadn’t even known such powerful enemies existed in those regions. To make matters worse, they still had no clear data on the enemy’s scale or number; the legions were wiped out instantly, leaving no images or souls to resurrect.
The Cataclysm Zone was simply too vast—so vast that the Mages could not truly grasp its entirety.
This time, however, the operations analyst brought slightly better news. “Commander, before destruction, Cole Wallace transmitted battle footage. Moreover, Cole and roughly sixty percent of his legion’s Mages successfully entered the resurrection channel.”
Adam and the command’s upper echelon all rose at once.
“Play the footage—and revive Cole immediately. Bring him to me.”