At the station of the Great Shun delegation, all security personnel had mobilized. Beyond safeguarding the compound itself, their mission was to prevent the Great Shun enclave from suffering another assault while the city plunged into chaos.
The municipal defense forces hired from Center City had likewise assembled here, dispatching patrols to the entrances of the enclave's primary thoroughfares.
They truly earned their pay; no matter how immense the commotion grew in the direction of Blockade Hall, they paid it not the slightest heed.
Once Chen Chuan realized the situation Center City was facing had turned exceedingly grave, he moved to the rooftop terrace of the station's main building.
He looked toward the sky. Within those bands of light, the indistinct silhouettes visible earlier had now grown somewhat fainter. The precise function of that ancient ritual was difficult to discern, but right now it was certainly barring anything from crossing over from the other side into this world.
And with that overarching psychic presence blocking the way, matters shouldn't completely unravel.
He turned his gaze toward Blockade Hall. The height of the delegation building was sufficient to grant him a view of the scene. A shroud of mist enveloped the entire district, capped by a hazy, hovering glow, while pinpricks of light flickered across the sky—combat airships, most likely.
For so many airships to be deployed at once, the crisis had clearly escalated to a critical point.
A flicker pulsed between his brows. Looking through his celestial eye, the mist turned nearly transparent in the very next instant. The ritual field manifested as sprawling patches of shimmering light, erupting from the earth and sweeping across the celestial canopy. It was strikingly prominent in the dark night—almost like an aurora born of another world, instantly reducing the city's neon lights to pale insignificance.
He could now make out three major points of impact. At two of them, the clash of field energies was considerably active, whereas the disturbance at the third was comparatively subdued. It felt somewhat halfhearted, as if that entity were merely waiting for the outcomes at the other two locations.
His gaze settled upon the northern sector. Having mastered and integrated the two grand forms, his perception of certain phenomena had grown exceptionally keen. He readily sensed that the presence held at bay over there was the very entity he had sought out at Blockade Hall that day, and his eyes fixed deeply on that spot.
Were some other individual to break out of Blockade Hall, he wouldn't bother interfering. But as a member of the Purist Faction, he would never permit an entity like that to rampage unchecked out in the open.
Once such an otherworldly entity broke free or cast off the bindings of the ritual, its first move would inevitably be to tear open a fissure. That would cause destruction far exceeding the sacrificial rites of groups like the New Light Cult. Furthermore, once energy from the other side poured across, the creature's true strength would far surpass what met the eye.
For now, it remained to be seen whether the arrangements at Blockade Hall could handle it. If they couldn't, he would not sit by and let it run wild.
Just then, a chime sounded from his boundary credential, followed by the voice of Delegation Leader Xie. "Section Chief Chen, a transmission just came through from the First Delegation addressed to you. I've drafted their cable into a message for your review."
Chen Chuan waited a brief moment before a message materialized across the credential's light screen. The First Delegation informed him that they had received an urgent request for security assistance from the Federation Administration, asking if he could assist in defending Blockade Hall if convenient.
Accompanying the request were dossiers detailing the identities of the three convicts on the verge of breaking out. Naturally, the Federation would not have provided such files willingly; this was almost certainly the handiwork of Great Shun's intelligence services.
Chen Chuan was already well aware of two of the convicts' identities. His eyes skimmed past them, but when he reached the final profile, his brow twitched upward.
No wonder the Federal Administration had stepped in so swiftly.
This was a former Consul of the Federation—officially declared to have died in office from chronic overwork and a relapse of old wounds. He was an illustrious figure in Federation history textbooks, his statue still seated inside the memorial hall.
Yet now this very Consul had broken out. In truth, he had been imprisoned only after devouring a forbidden object and turning into a monster. If word got out, it would utterly shatter the public's perception and decimate the Federal Government's image. They were determined to suppress it at all costs.
This was a favor he could grant. In fact, he had already entertained the thought.
Moreover, judging by the First Delegation's customary style, they certainly wouldn't let him exert himself for nothing, which made the proposition all the more agreeable.
He tapped the credential to reconnect with Delegation Leader Xie. "Leader Xie, I've decided to accept the First Delegation's commission and assist in the defense."
Leader Xie's composed voice came back: "Section Chief Chen, exercise utmost caution."
Chen Chuan gave an affirmative murmur. The outer coat around his shoulders fluttered. Under the influence of a force field, his body lifted gently into the air, then vanished in a sudden flash across the void.
***
Before Blockade Hall, Rossard faced his former superior and said in a heavy voice, "Your Excellency, when you were imprisoned back then, I was still inspecting the front lines. By the time I returned, I was told you had succumbed to illness and passed away. I didn't believe it."
He looked at the figure before him as if searching for a trace of familiarity from days gone by. "As a martial artist, even if you suffered numerous wounds on the battlefield, how could you possibly be brought down by disease? Claiming you had mutated would have been far more credible. It wasn't until I continued digging that they realized they could hide it no longer, and finally told me the truth."
He let out a sigh, his gaze turning complex. "Your Excellency, you should never have ingested that thing."
Staring at the dense thicket of arms swaying behind the figure's back, his voice rang with unyielding conviction. "If you had become like this back then and I had been present, I would have cast an approving vote as well."
Covington let out a low, rumbling chuckle. "General Rossard, you remain as forthright and obstinate as ever. Just like when I intended to assault the East Tower Bastion, you were the only one who dared voice opposition. A man like you could never understand."
Rossard frowned. "Understand what?"
Covington said, "After becoming Consul, I combed through the old archives and learned a few things—" Here, his voice sank even lower. "Defeat was our inevitable end. That was why I had to take this step."
He raised a hand, cutting off the question forming on Rossard's lips. "You needn't ask what it was, nor should you attempt to persuade me. Dayel, you were never an ambitious man. Though an excellent commander, you were never suited to be a politician. Knowing certain things would only bring you greater torment. Just lead your troops well and don't dwell on what lies beyond. Whereas I..."
He slowly drew himself upright. "As Consul, there was far more I had to consider."
Rossard paused briefly before saying, "Your Excellency, I heard that line from you countless times in the past. But I know you. You are a man possessed by ruthless drive, with bottomless greed lurking in your heart. You sought the consulship merely to grow stronger, and for the sake of power, you would spare no expense. Thus, I cannot be certain whether your words hold any truth; I can only meet them with skepticism."
Covington's temper flared abruptly. "Do not presume to judge me with your shallow perspective! Everything I did had its purpose. If I remained locked away, I could never prove my convictions, and all of you would merely condemn me as being in the wrong!
"Now that I have broken out, it is my turn to prove it!
"And that is quite enough talk. I know you are stalling for time, but do you truly believe these fleeting moments will serve any purpose? What can you possibly change?!"
As his emotions surged, his voice degenerated into a bestial roar, echoing in every direction. White radiance flared across his form, manifesting as glaring ribbons of light that swayed and rippled.
The amber-orange light around Rossard expanded outward in kind. Clenching his fists, he said, "Your Excellency, I was once your inferior. But now—"
In the next instant, he appeared directly in front of Covington and drove a fist forward. Covington attempted to dodge aside, but his body merely twitched. As if jammed by rust, it failed to obey his command to evade. The fist, wrapped in blinding, piercing white force, slammed solidly into his chest and abdomen, blasting open a massive crater!
Hairline fractures instantly spiderwebbed across the intact sections of Covington's body. Surging currents of force clashed violently inside him, causing his torso to balloon as if inflated with air, while a large swath of the arms across his back shattered into pulverized fragments.
Rossard raised his eyes, fixing his gaze upon those bloodshot, grayish-white pupils. "Your Excellency, you are far too weak."
***
Inside the White Rock Long Hall, the administrators watched this scene unfold through Alu's sensory field, unable to contain their delight and excitement.
As a veteran martial artist who had made his name on the battlefields of the early Federation, Rossard possessed astonishing explosive force and offensive prowess. In those days, he had been known as the 'Heavy Cannon,' and the Federation had even named an artillery piece in his honor!
Today, his strength was greater still. Even a Throne martial artist like Covington appeared incapable of withstanding a single punch from him.
Of course, this was also because the joint containment of the ritual and the relic had utterly suppressed the former Consul's spirit, leaving him with scarcely any capacity for activation. At this rate, the battle looked as good as over.
Ryan cast a glance toward the other two fronts. Mr. Weiss of the Stars Academy was holding down the entity on his side, though that field was far more chaotic, making it difficult to discern the specifics.
As for the old emperor's sector, there wasn't much disturbance yet. The situation appeared favorable, yet Ryan couldn't shake the feeling that he had overlooked something.
***
"Truly remarkable."
Covington looked down at his easily pierced chest and his shattered spiritual fire, his face displaying wonder and appreciation toward Rossard.
"Yet remember what I once told you, Rossard? You must destroy your enemy thoroughly and completely. For even if an opponent has fallen, he can still fire a lethal bullet into you."
Having landed that blow, Rossard prepared to press the attack. Yet he found himself unable to move. The instant he made physical contact with Covington, he had felt a psychic force insinuating itself into his body.
It locked his mutated tissue into stiffness, momentarily preventing him from mobilizing the power surging within.
He knew this had to be the psychic suppression of a Throne martial artist. Any fighter who had not attained their plane was prone to being frozen in place under the sheer awe of their psychic force.
When such figures took the field of battle, no combatant beneath their tier could hope to contend with them. They were truly those who sat upon the throne!
And yet Covington had long been weakened to an extreme, his psychic power smothered beneath the ritual's suppression, unable to achieve full activity. How could he still accomplish such a feat?!
Chapter 1148