Chapter 961: Chapter 171: Judgment from the Sky
This is the critical moment Perfikot has been waiting for.
When those tentacles, thick as ancient tree roots, tore through the last line of defense and surged towards the Energy Tower with a nauseating stench, the survivors huddled in the shadows of the camp ruins, the light in their eyes slowly extinguishing.
Mothers held their children tightly in their arms, their rough fingers digging deep into young shoulders; old craftsmen hunched their backs, grasping with white knuckles the rusty wrench that had accompanied them for half a lifetime.
The sound of corrosion drilled into everyone’s eardrums.
It wasn’t a simple sizzling sound, but something more sinister—like countless barbed insect feet crawling on nerves, or like a thirsty tongue licking the inner wall of a skull.
The frozen ground beneath their feet squirmed eerily, as if the entire earth had turned into the stomach of some gigantic creature.
The putrid odor permeating the air had a tangible quality, each breath feeling like swallowing viscous pus, with a taste of rust and some... living, slick sensation triggering a sickening sensation in the throat.
Just as despair was about to crush the last thread of hope—
Divine punishment came.
The armored plates at the base of the Floating City unfolded layer by layer like the eyes of a mechanical deity opening amidst the hiss of hydraulics.
The azure arcs leapt between electromagnetic rails, as if the cage imprisoning thunders had finally shattered.
The tremor when the cannon reached the critical point of charging sounded like the low growl of an ancient beast awakening, making the air itself tremble with fear.
Suddenly, the world was dyed pale.
The judgement light burst forth from the cannon, splitting the leaden clouds violently in two.
The light was so pure that it burned a purple afterimage into the retina.
The moment the superalloy warhead tore through the clouds, it was as if an invisible hand had severed the river of time—all the wildly dancing tentacles were frozen mid-air, resembling the meticulously preserved specimens of a taxidermist.
Then, the silence was shattered.
The sky fragmented in its trembling.
Godslaying Armor tore through the clouds, diving downward, the blazing white flames from its back thrusters carving a dazzling trail in the sky, like a lightning spear cast down by a deity.
Just as the armor was about to crash into the ground, the anti-gravity device emitted a thunderous hum, and a ring-shaped shockwave exploded with a roar.
Within dozens of meters, the tentacles shattered into pieces under the violent airstream, with putrid flesh and mucus transforming into a torrential crimson rain.
The frozen ground groaned under the impact, spiderweb-like cracks spread rapidly, and chunks of ice and dust surged into towering waves.
The claws on the armor’s right arm trembled abruptly, the high-frequency oscillation tearing countless tiny vacuum fissures in the air.
The moment the dark blade touched the tentacles, the deformed tissue, capable of corroding even steel, shredded like thin paper.
The corrosive fluid spraying from the severed sections was vaporized into toxic blue smoke by the plasma flames bursting from the claws before it could fall.
An intense azure-white flash suddenly erupted from the other side of the battlefield.
Another piece of Godslaying Armor knelt on one knee, with the alchemical matrix expanding frantically around it.
The crimson light deep in the charge barrel was like the solitary eye of a demon opening, the hum during charging sublimating the snow within a hundred meters in an instant.
The moment the barrel completed its elevation, the destructive light stream swept across the battlefield.
The permafrost vaporized upon contact, and the surface melted into boiling black glass.
A tumor-like creature, trying to burrow, had just emerged with a bloodshot eye, its entire body disintegrating in the purifying light.
The carbonized remains were blown by the polar wind, turning into thousands of flickering embers, scattered above the scorched earth.
Support from high altitudes arrived immediately, as if divine retribution had come.
At first, it was a faint tremor deep within the clouds, like distant thunder.
But this weak hum quickly swelled into an eardrum-splitting roar, the heavy lead-colored clouds tearing apart like an old curtain.
Thousands of ornithopters descended like a swarm of metal locusts, the rapid vibration of their mechanical wings slicing through the air with a sharp screech, while the weapon arrays hanging from their bellies glinted with the cold gleam of death.
This steel legion cut into the battlefield with a perfect killing formation, the roar of their artillery instantly dominating the entire space.
Fiery chains of bullets whipped the frozen earth like the lash of a celestial being, branding countless scorching trenches.
Deformed tentacles twisted and burst within the metal storm, their foul stench spewing forth only to be vaporized into toxic mist by the subsequent barrage.
Their precision in slaughter was almost artful, each dive accurately striking the monsters’ neural centers, blooming scarlet flowers upon their distorted bodies.
Occasionally, a dying tentacle would lash out suddenly, yet would not even touch the wake of the ornithopter—these mechanical harbingers dodged with dizzying agility, only to draw crossfire from their wingmates which shredded the ambusher into a whirlwind of flying flesh.
However, the real judgment was only now arriving upon the world.
When the ultimate weapon of the Floating City completed its charge, and the beam piercing heaven and earth split the clouds, ionized air erupted with the stinging smell of ozone, scorching everyone’s respiratory tracts.
At the moment the beam touched the ground, space twisted and deformed as if a crumpled painting, faintly revealing terrifying illusions of dimensional rifts.
The mountain-like mass of flesh convulsed violently within the pure white light, its surface carbonizing and peeling off at an astounding speed, exposing tens of thousands of frantically twitching neural clusters inside.
These ugly organs exploded one after another in the intense light, until the entire colossal entity was completely disintegrated into the most primitive particles by the energy torrent.
When the light faded, the battlefield fell into a deathly silence.
The overloaded armor spewed scalding steam, the melted snow instantly freezing into sharp ice blades at extremely low temperatures.
A survivor curled up in a trench trembled as he released the hands covering his ears, only to find them stained with semi-coagulated black blood—his eardrums had ruptured the instant the energy shock occurred, yet the instinct to survive temporarily kept him from feeling the pain.
As the first ray of dawn pierced through the smoke and illuminated this scorched wasteland, those monsters that once inspired despair were now reduced to scattered steaming organic debris, like ugly scars upon the earth.
Survivors slowly crawled out from behind cover, their movements as stiff as marionettes, as if still unable to believe the scene before them.
In the morning light, the camp’s devastation lay bare—the shell of the Energy Tower was riddled with holes, like the gnawed bones of a giant beast; the frozen earth was scarred with bottomless fissures, like wounds upon the land; the air was filled with a pungent mix of burnt and rotten odors.
The old craftsman’s wrench clattered to the ground.
He stared blankly around him, his wrinkled face still marked by traces of tears and bloodstains.
Mothers finally released the children from their tight embrace, only to find their fingers were cramped from exertion, unable to straighten.
The children, faces still painted with fear, began to gaze curiously at the smoking monster remains.
It was hard to tell who first let out an initial whimper, but soon, sobs rose and fell among the survivors.
It was not a cry of sorrow, but a near-manic release.
Some fell to their knees, scooping up handfuls of charred earth, laughing and crying; some trembled as they touched their limbs, confirming they were still intact; others stood dazed, continuously repeating: "We are alive... We are alive..."
Perfikot stood at the edge of the Floating City module, the cold wind blowing against his cloak.
She gazed at the crowd, survivors stepping from the brink of despair, a barely visible curve formed at her lips.
This was the moment he had been waiting for—to return hope to these people standing at the edge of an abyss.
In the distance, surviving Engineers were already inspecting the damage to the Energy Tower.
Though it was riddled with scars, the core structure remained intact.
This meant they still had a chance for reconstruction.
The old craftsman trembled as he picked up his wrench, wiped it on his coat, then turned to head towards the Energy Tower.
This simple action seemed like a signal, prompting others to also start moving.
The dawn sunlight grew brighter, dispelling the final shadows lingering over the battlefield.
A new day began, and they were still alive.
