Throughout the entire storage vault, without the slightest warning, all the lights flickered in unison.
Like the blink of an eye.
A single instant.
Yet after that flicker of an instant, a blood-red blade had already pierced out through the warden's chest.
Pan Ying!
In the hands of an orthodox Swarm practitioner, Pan Ying hummed and vibrated in high song as plumes of blood-flame swept forth. Three emblems of Sacrificial Lords instantly flared to life and erupted under Old Tom's consummate control!
Mycelium formed the binding, an all-permeating erosion; Scar formed the surface, carving wounds that could never heal; Blood Wrist formed the core, elevating a hastily delivered thrust to the terrifying level of an all-out strike.
There was not even time to blink.
"—"
Subconsciously, the warden tried to make a sound, only to feel that the Law of Tianyuan he had been channeling, along with every matrix and occult ritual throughout the vault, had severed all connection with him.
From a state of seamless integration with the vault, he had been violently stripped away.
Unbelievable.
All surveillance footage was intercepted and replaced in an instant by mechanical spiders released from beneath Old Tom's heels. And under the relentless erosion of even more Spirits of Creation, the warden's administrative privileges within the system were abruptly severed—or rather...
Usurped.
An identical set of administrative credentials appeared within the vault, seizing control of everything, while the passwords and verification protocols turned entirely alien.
His account had been hijacked.
There was no time even for shock or panic.
In that brief window lasting less than a fraction of a second, the Tianyuan adept of the Regeneration tier made the instinctive choice: a full-power detonation!
Regardless of friend or foe, disregarding self and others, without differentiating any target, he unleashed an equal and ferocious storm of destruction. Inflict maximum casualties on everyone present, preserve himself, and trigger the alarm.
He harbored no delusions of defeating the enemy or pulling off a clutch reversal on a sliver of health. Instead, he chose the option with the highest probability of success—as long as the situation here was transmitted to the outside world, a sliver of hope remained!
Yet did it really exist?
No.
For a "Wolf," an instant was still far too long.
When a White Stag faced a Tianyuan, five paces was no different from being face-to-face. Within that brief instant, an all-out burst from a White Stag was enough to cycle through several rounds of full-tilt offensive, casually smoke a cigarette, and pop off to get a foot massage on the side.
Before the intangible ripple brewing in the void could even germinate, time seemed to grind to a halt. Everything fell into stasis.
Only a figure enshrouded in black flames smiled and stepped forward with leisurely, unhurried strides.
A hand reached out and pressed against that rigid face, which had not even found the time to twist in terror.
—*What a truly fine piece of jade!*
It was as though he could smell the sweet fragrance hovering right before him, curling at the tip of his nose, pouring into his lungs like spring water, moisturizing his soul, bringing an indescribable soothing relief, and stoking an uncontrollable hunger!
Tianyuan really smelled so damn good!
The instant the urge struck, the disguise tore apart of its own accord, baring a ferocious true form.
Pitch-black shadows swelled violently. Black smoke twisted into the squirming pelt of a beast, spreading without end, while razor-sharp talons and fangs thrust outward.
Jaws snapped open, lunging toward his throat!
Fast—far too fast, leaving no room for reaction. By the time the warden realized what the encroaching darkness was, it was already over.
The brewing counterattack and eruption were effortlessly torn apart by the talons, interrupting his abilities and driving straight through his defenses.
Tens of thousands of afterimages unfurled like a cascading waterfall, swallowing him whole.
Those bizarre talons whipped through the air with zero wind resistance, not stirring even the faintest breeze, every ounce of force gathered solely along the sharp edges of the claws.
The craft of the Wolf flowed and revealed itself within this brutal assault.
Standardized to an infuriating degree.
Rather than calling it standardized, it was more like rigid.
It made no adjustments based on the differences or conditions between combatants. Instead, it mechanically layered techniques atop attacks, applied with uncompromising precision down to the millimeter.
Constrained by his own method of control and lack of experience, Ji Jue could not command this wolf's body like an extension of his own limbs. He could only force its instincts and issue commands like pressing buttons to trigger skills.
In the end, it lacked fluidity.
It looked fierce, but had word gotten out, it would have been a laughingstock.
Yet right now, against a completely helpless Tianyuan, it was more than enough!
Besides, this was merely a disposable vessel—why cherish it?
Without a shred of mercy, he extracted every ounce of power from the shell, tormenting both flesh and soul in exchange for this singular burst.
Blood Shake, Bone Pierce, Soul Slay—
In the span of a finger snap, dozens upon hundreds of layered hunting techniques were inflicted upon the Tianyuan's body and soul.
Crushing the last vestige of resistance into nothing.
The venom of wolf's blood had already seeped deep into the marrow, spreading, proliferating, corroding the soul, grinding the final glimmer of consciousness into dust.
*Snap!*
In the blink of an eye, everything had completely changed.
A cloud of bloody mist burst outward. Countless claw marks erupted across the warden's body, stripping him down to a skeletal frame like a death of a thousand cuts, yet with exquisite precision, the soul was not entirely ripped apart. A sliver of life and the integrity of his matrix were preserved.
*What a waste, all those blessings...*
Right before his eyes, yet out of reach.
Ignoring the continuous cracking sounds echoing from within his current vessel, Ji Jue sighed deeply.
Deftly, he peeled the mangled remains—still linked to the occult rituals of the storage vault—off Pan Ying, administering an injection on the side to ensure the man's sudden death would not trigger any unwanted accidents.
It was done.
He raised his head, surveying the treasure trove before him.
Soon, he turned back to look at Old Tom, whose face was splattered with blood.
He smiled.
Old Tom took an instinctive step backward, every hair on his body standing on end. What was this bastard planning now? Idioms like *eliminating the roots*, *burning bridges*, and *slaughtering the hunting dog once the hare is caught* instantly flooded his mind, impossible to suppress.
Yet Ji Jue merely smiled and gestured with an inviting hand.
Pointing toward the target beside him.
—The strategic-grade megaton fusion bomb!
"After you, my friend,"
Ji Jue told him, brimming with expectation. "The time has come for you to show your worth."
"Fuck my life..."
Amidst the dead silence, Old Tom raised his head instinctively to look at the missile warhead, which stood taller than he did.
He could not help swallowing a dry mouthful of spit.
The fusion bomb stood silently beneath the pale lighting, its exaggerated silhouette casting a menacing shadow across Tang Qian's face.
*Wait, hold on!*
Something this huge... would he die?
Yet contrary to his hesitation and panic, his body grew astonishingly hot, scalding. His breathing turned ragged, unable to restrain the anticipation and hunger welling up inside him.
Because inside the Heritage Burnt Offering, every single one of his ancestors was losing their minds with excitement!
*—Holy shit, this is insane!*
*—Gua! Even dying now would be worth the price of admission!*
*—Send it in, quick! Let me taste it!*
*—I get first dibs!*
*—Like hell you do, I was first!*
*—Don't fight, Fourth Granduncle worked the hardest, Fourth Granduncle gets the first taste!*
...
These goddamned ancestors were utterly hopeless!
Old Tom's expression twitched again and again, but in the end, he did not dawdle. Gritting his teeth, he reached out and pressed his hand against the fusion bomb.
Instantly, as the fusion bomb vanished, an unprecedented sensation of fullness and swelling surged through his body, nearly bursting him at the seams.
Such a colossal burden.
His face turned ashen, sweat pouring down his neck, his eyes rolling back uncontrollably.
He nearly passed out cold.
While he struggled to adjust, Ji Jue threw himself into a frenzy of looting throughout the warehouse. In the turn of a hand, several iron crates even larger than Old Tom were lined up before him.
As if queuing up.
"Come on, squeeze in a bit more, just a little. Hang in there, buddy! Believe in yourself, you can do it!"
"Stop fucking barking!"
Old Tom was on the verge of throwing up. "That's enough, dammit!"
After repeated cajoling, relentless cheering, and constant encouragement, Ji Jue finally confirmed that Old Tom truly could not swallow another single drop. Only then did he sullenly abandon a portion of the expensive materials that were not exceptionally rare.
Instead, he turned to destroying the traces at the scene, eradicating every clue and residue of their presence.
His movements were terrifyingly practiced, smooth as flowing water.
In less than half a minute, the entire storage vault was completely unrecognizable. Not a shred of evidence linking the two of them to the deed remained.
"That's it?" Tang Qian asked, dumbfounded, his indignation growing. "Then why the fuck did you make me carry so much stuff?"
"Better safe than sorry!"
Ji Jue retorted with a bewildered look. "Shouldn't one always have a backup plan? You even need a backup plan for the backup plan! Besides, even if we don't end up using it, what's wrong with carrying a bit extra? This is a precious training opportunity for—"
"Enough."
Tang Qian raised a hand, cutting off Ji Jue's yap. "Fine, here's the question. It's time for your backup plan—we've got the goods, so how do we run?"
He eyed Ji Jue suspiciously, full of wariness. "You're not planning to fight our way out, are you?"
"Why would we run?"
Ji Jue asked, baffled, a grin spreading across his face. "Did you forget what we came here to do?"
Tang Qian froze, his eyes practically popping out of his head.
"Wait, no, this..."
He stammered, flabbergasted. "Is that even right?"
"What's not right about it? It's completely right. It was already like this when we got here! If not for us, who knows how long the Empire would have been kept in the dark?
"They should be thanking us."
Ji Jue lowered his gaze, glancing over the scene of utter ruin, and let out a soft chuckle. "Now, it's time for the Armaments Department to give us an explanation."
In that instant, without hesitation, he smashed the alarm button on the adjacent wall.
A piercing siren erupted, echoing across the entire garrison base.
Two minutes later, the grim-faced commissioner, escorting a stumbling, injured, and feeble driver, returned to the car. Then, pulling out 'his' communicator, he dialed Passarella's number.
A raspy voice spoke in sheer panic:
"Your Grace, disaster has struck..."
Soon, amidst a chorus of wails and panic, the armory was placed under total lockdown under the commissioner's direction.
"Apprehend everyone! All of them!" the commissioner commanded with a dark expression. "Leave no stone unturned! Not a single fly is permitted to leave this place, understood?!"
With that, he started the engine, speeding toward the bunker command center.
Even before their arrival, photographs from the scene and an urgent report from the Armaments Department had already reached the deathly silent command center.
The sight within the classified armory vault was total devastation!
It looked as though it had been gnawed clean by dogs.
According to rough counts and cross-checks: two engines and spare parts for the new fighter model; several hundred types of ritual materials and consumables; even the four tons of gold privately stored in the vault by the Archduke as collateral...
And most fatal of all... the megaton-class fusion bomb!
All gone!
Immediately following that, chaotic reports from various departments began trickling in.
Lacking integration, the testimonies were muddled and incoherent, the situation utterly incomprehensible, and the reports contradicted one another, leaving everyone utterly bewildered, unable to fathom what had occurred.
The only certainty was one thing.
Every single person in the Armaments Department had been played for absolute fools!
The warden was unconscious, gravely wounded, his mind and memories entirely wiped out, currently clinging to life in the ICU. Meanwhile, all security and control systems in the storage vault had long since failed.
Even worse, all surveillance footage and monitoring logs over the past several days had been entirely fabricated!
Had the commissioner not investigated in person, there was no telling how much longer they would have been kept in the dark...
Most critically of all, the fusion bomb was gone!
*Fuck, it's really gone!*
It was like a hundred thousand mountains suddenly crashing down upon the camel's back. Amidst the relentless onslaught of disastrous news, vision went black for everyone in the room, over and over again.
There was no time even to think.
From the start of the attack until now, in less than half an hour, too many shocks and chaotic events had struck in rapid succession.
The phlogiston refinery explosion, the attack on the base, the deterrence mechanism spiraling out of control, the Vengeance taking to the skies, the disappearance of the fusion bomb... one monumental nightmare after another unfolding before their eyes.
And now, the worst-case scenario had materialized. There was no longer any room for hesitation or wavering.
The Archduke's roar reverberated through the entire bunker.
Uncontrolled lightning and blazing fire nearly burned the bunker to cinders.
"What are you all standing around for?!"
Passarella smashed the table before him to splinters. "With so many of you, it's been over ten minutes and you can't even take down a single bomber?! What does the Empire pay you useless trash for?!
"Tell everyone: spare no expense! Take down that godforsaken bastard!
"And tell that old bastard Doledonville to stop giving me bullshit about Imperial statutes! If that fusion bomb actually goes off in Tacheng, I'll see to it that he and his Secrecy Bureau are the first to die!
"Do you hear me?!"
Chapter 600