Chapter 532 - 517: Shadows Beneath the City
Chapter 532: Chapter 517: Shadows Beneath the City
Allen finished interrogating the last Demon Mage. Leaning back against the cold metal chair, the cascading data streams in his dark blue eyes finally faded into stillness. The conclusion was perfectly clear.
The Purgatory Plane was a massive, self-circulating ecosystem—or rather, a highly precise Soul Ranch. From the moment every Demon was born, their souls were branded with indelible Plane Laws: the soul tax and the Rebirth Agreement. They were the "worker bees" released by the ranch, waging wars across myriad worlds to harvest souls, only to have thirty percent of their "profits" forcibly extracted and surrendered to Purgatory itself. Death was nothing more than the process of a worker bee returning to the hive for reconstruction.
The Lord of the Burning Legion, Sargeras, was more like an Advanced Rancher in charge of a specific sector within this colossal ranch. According to the completely drained Demon Mage, the more powerful the Demon, the stronger the restraints of the Plane Laws. For an entity of Sargeras’s caliber to descend across Planes in his true form, conventional cross-realm portals simply could not bear his presence. The only solution was sacrifice. He would need a one-time sacrifice of over a million—perhaps even millions—of intelligent beings with souls. The majestic surge of Soul Energy bursting forth in that instant would forcibly carve out a stable voyage channel between the two Planes for him to pass through.
"A sacrifice on the scale of millions..." Allen tapped his fingertips lightly against the console, producing a rhythmic TAP TAP TAP. "That won’t be easy."
This was especially true since, following his warning, the native Wizard factions of Ionia had already conducted a massive purge, uprooting over a hundred Cultist strongholds. Gathering a million sacrifices silently under such strict surveillance was an almost impossible task. However, Allen never pinned his hopes on his enemies making mistakes. The schemes and patience of a Dawn Star Level entity could never be measured by common sense.
"Jarvis," Allen called out. "Raise the priority of all war preparation protocols to the maximum."
"Understood," the AI replied.
Three months passed in a flash.
On the former territory of the Star Secret Place, a gargantuan city named Cybertron throbbed day and night like a heart of steel. Thousands of Hercules Engineering Golems and tens of thousands of Factory Servants rotated on twenty-four-hour shifts, feeding freshly mined ore into the furnaces to cast precise Golem components. Hundreds of production lines roared endlessly as new Golems continually stepped off the belts, completed their inspections, and loaded their weapons. The Twenty-First through Thirtieth Golem Legions had already been reorganized and were fully combat-ready.
Across the vast wasteland, Earth Vein Magic Furnaces rose from the ground like a steel jungle, greedily extracting the subterranean essence that had slumbered in this Plane for billions of years. In just three short months, the number of Magic Furnaces had skyrocketed from thirty-seven to over two hundred, and they were still multiplying madly. These interconnected furnaces formed a colossal energy matrix, converging into an unimaginable torrent of power. It poured endlessly into the Ten Thousand Miles of Sunshine, all to feed the main Zero cannon suspended beneath the ship’s bow—a weapon capable of wiping out an entire continent.
On the bridge’s holographic projection, the light bar representing the main cannon’s charging progress climbed at a visible rate. Every upward tick was heart-stopping: 92%... 93%... 94%...
For the native Wizards of Ionia, this world-altering spectacle was an absolute nightmare.
"He’s insane! The man is completely insane!" The Storm Witch King slammed his fist onto the table. Gale-force winds whipped around him, blowing through the room with a violent WHOOSH. "Have you seen it? The land within a thousand miles of those Earth Vein Magic Furnaces has already begun turning to desert! Plants are withering, and rivers are running dry! If this continues, the entire Northern Continent will become a dead zone in less than half a year!"
Kassen, the Master of the Verdant Tower, wore a heavy expression. He could clearly sense the earth’s vitality draining away at a terrifying pace.
"I attempted to negotiate with him," the Grand Chairman of the True Silver Council said, his voice hoarse. "The envoys I sent couldn’t even get close to the hull of the Ten Thousand Miles of Sunshine. The other side only replied with a single sentence over the comms."
"What did he say?"
"’Within the bounds of the agreement; wartime martial law.’"
Silence fell over the council hall. The agreement they had signed with their own hands had now become an inescapable shackle, leaving them helpless to do anything but watch as their homeland was bled dry.
"Are we... are we just going to sit back and watch?" a Second-level Wizard asked with great difficulty.
"What else can we do?" The Grand Chairman let out a bitter laugh. "Rebel? Fight against the Golem Legion? Or would you prefer a taste of the black dreadnought’s artillery fire?"
No one spoke. After witnessing that previous battle, any thought of resistance seemed incredibly pale and powerless.
Aboard the bridge of the Ten Thousand Miles of Sunshine.
"Commander," Jarvis’s voice echoed out. "The negative sentiment among the native Ionian factions is accumulating rapidly. According to my modeling, there is a 73.4% probability of large-scale protests or even armed conflict breaking out within the next two months."
"Upgrade their threat level to ’Medium’ and have the Celestial Throne lock onto their headquarters. Any unauthorized military mobilization will be deemed an act of hostility." Allen’s tone lacked the slightest ripple of emotion. "Their survival is not part of my cost calculations."
Compared to the annoying chatter of ants, he was far more concerned with something else.
"Jarvis, submit the continent-wide surveillance report."
"Report generated."
A massive three-dimensional map of the Ionian continent unfurled before Allen.
"Over the past ninety-two days of continuous surveillance, a total of one hundred and fifty Demon Eyes have been deployed to scan the entire continent around the clock," Jarvis reported. "The scan results indicate that, after filtering out known areas of Demon activity and residual battlefield energy, a total of seven hundred and sixty-one weak Evil Energy fluctuation points have been detected across the continent."
As Jarvis gave the report, dense clusters of red glowing dots lit up one by one on the 3D map. These dots were scattered all across the landmass. Some were in deep mountains, others in the wilderness, but the vast majority were concentrated in heavily populated urban areas.
"Weak?" Allen furrowed his brows slightly.
"Yes, sir. The fluctuations at each location are extremely weak, falling well below the perceptive threshold of a conventional Wizard. Were it not for the Deep Spectral Analysis Device equipped on the Demon Eyes, they could have easily been overlooked as normal environmental energy ripples."
Allen’s gaze moved slowly across the map until it finally settled on the most heavily clustered area of red dots. It was a colossal metropolis named Silver Moon City, the core ruling territory of the Cyan Tower, boasting a permanent population of over three million.
Ten meters beneath Silver Moon City.
This area was an extension of the city’s sewage system—dark, damp, and reeking of filth. Countless newly excavated tunnels spread out like spiderwebs beneath the city, connecting hidden basements, abandoned warehouses, and even private aristocratic wine cellars. The walls of these tunnels were carved with twisted, profane Runes. Together, these Runes formed a massive Sacrificial Ceremony that encompassed the entirety of Silver Moon City’s forty-seven-kilometer diameter.
At this very moment, inside an underground cavern the size of several football fields, over a thousand black-robed Cultists were kneeling on the ground, frantically chanting filthy prayers. In the center of the cavern, a massive circular Array over a hundred meters in diameter had already been drawn. Dozens of figures dragged wooden barrels filled with blood, pouring the fresh crimson liquid into the carved grooves. The blood flowed down the sloping channels, joining the blackened, coagulated blood that already made up the Array’s foundation. At every node of the Array rested a severed head, its mouth frozen in a silent scream.
The leading Cultist raised his hands high. His voice echoed through the cavern, dripping with maniacal joy.
"The time has come! The fools on the surface are still panicking over their draining Magic Power. They have no idea that true power stems from a grand sacrifice!
"This city, these three million lowly souls, shall become the stepping stones for our Lord’s descent!"
He viciously plunged a ceremonial dagger into the center of the Array.
"With millions of lives as the sacrifice!
"With the blood of a city as the catalyst!"
HUMMM!
The entire underground Array instantly lit up with a blinding, ghastly green light. A majestic surge of Evil Energy rocketed upward, but it was ruthlessly suppressed by the thick layer of bedrock and a special Shielding Barrier above, preventing even the slightest trace from leaking out.
The Array began frantically siphoning an invisible energy. Up on the surface, among the three million citizens sleeping, working, and living in Silver Moon City, not a single person realized what was happening. Their Essence of Life and Soul origin were being slowly, inch by inch, extracted by the colossal, invisible meat grinder churning right beneath their feet.
The leading Cultist felt the terrifying energy gathering within the Array, an obsessed smile creeping across his face.
"Burn! Become the fuel!
"Welcome the descent of our Lord, Sargeras!"