Chapter 661: Shattered Bravado
Once again, Charisse said nothing, her gaze falling quietly to the space between them as though measuring the distance... waiting for him to make even the slightest contact with her.
Her guards, standing with their backs to her, didn’t notice this. Their fury was stoked by the Beastman’s brashness and others came over with weapons drawn.
In response, the Beastman’s grin widened, his muscles swelling as his body cracked and shifted into a half-wolf form, baring sharp fangs and flashing eyes that gleamed with unrestrained savagery.
All around, people froze, some leaning forward with tense anticipation, while others stepped closer to stop the Beastman.
But then, before a single move could be made, an oppressive energy blanketed the scene.
"?!"
"Wh–"
"What is...?"
"!...!"
Every heart seemed to stop, breath hitching in collective disbelief as the suffocating weight pressed down on everyone.
The faintest whiffs of crimson-silver mist began to appear around their feet, curling like the tendrils of some watchful beast. The mist glowed, spreading outward silently.
’When did that mist get here? How did we get surrounded by it?’
Everyone shuddered and those with Pseudo-Authorities sensed something even more terrifying.
They could feel this was the work of a Pseudo-Authority, and the law power of destruction within the mist, from a comprehension almost reaching Completion!
It was a power that bordered on deification, pressing down on them as if they were ants before a mountain.
And then, cutting through the dread, footsteps.
Clear and steady, they echoed through the silence, reaching everyone’s ears as though the vast space had funnelled the sound directly to them.
From the tree behind Charisse, Arthur stepped out, the frowning Elder Spirits behind him.
His expression was calm, and his eyes faced the Beastman who now stood rigid, the swagger wiped from his face as his bravado crumbled into something closer to terror.
His ’Beastly Instincts’ warned him not to dare move an inch.
Arthur approached with unhurried ease, stopping just inches away from the Beastman. He locked eyes with the half-wolf, and slowly, he lifted his finger and pressed it lightly against the Beastman’s chest.
A shockwave erupted.
**BOOM!
The point of contact seemed to explode with kinetic force, and the Beastman’s body was launched backwards like a ragdoll.
He flew through the air, limbs flailing, before crashing to the ground with a thunderous impact, dust and debris clouding around him.
After the Beastman’s body crashed down, silence gripped the assembly. All eyes shifted to Arthur as he calmly approached Charisse, his face impassive.
"He didn’t touch you, did he?"
Arthur asked, his voice barely a whisper and Charisse shook her head.
"No."
Hearing this, the boy’s lips curled up in a faint smile. He cast a glance back towards the Beastman, who lay groaning in a heap on the ground.
"Lucky you.
Not because I was going to do anything. But if you’d happened to touch her, well... you’d probably wish you were dead."
Charisse’s title of ’Prophetess’ and the presence of guards around her could make one mistake her for the stereotypical seer, cloistered and fragile.
But little-known fact, Charisse was stronger than some of the Spirit Elders!
Though not a full combatant due to her focus on divination, she was still an Intermediate-Stage Transcendent.
It was only a few days ago that she spoke about having gone to hunt down cultivators who killed spirits that were trying to recruit them and subjecting them to a ’Life of Eternal Torment’.
By intervening, Arthur had spared the Beastman a torment far beyond anything he himself would have inflicted.
As the attention of the crowd was locked onto him, Arthur glanced around silently.
His Destruction energy pressed down on them all like an invisible hand. No one dared to speak.
The air felt heavy, oppressive; a weight pressed on their backs, forcing some to their knees.
Instinctively, they understood: this was the strongest being present. None dared risk even a murmur, knowing one misstep under the force of his Destruction energy might end them.
As they struggled under the weight, another, more elusive pressure lingered—gravity itself was pressing upon them, yet no magic or energy seemed to be bending gravity.
Naturally, this was because Arthur was using Cosmic Energy.
After analysing the crowd, Arthur finally stepped forward and addressed them in his Faux True Voice.
|¬Now, I’m sure you all have your opinions about this situation.
Some of you are probably wrestling with a lot of... ideas. ¬|
He gestured to the Beastman on the ground.
|¬Believe me, I’ve had my hands full dealing with situations just like this. ¬|
He turned and motioned toward the Elder Spirits gathered nearby.
|¬These folks are asking for your help. In exchange, they’re offering you rewards. If you’re not satisfied with those rewards, it’s simple—don’t help.
Head off, do whatever you like. ¬|
Shrugging, he added with dry humour.
|¬Of course, good luck finding your way out of this Dimension and back to your sects on your own. ¬|
The boy obviously wouldn’t say he was capable of leaving here anytime he wished. That’d just invite unnecessary trouble.
|¬If you’re interested in the rewards, then join us. But let’s be clear—no one here is forcing you to stay. This alliance isn’t compulsory, so you’re free to go your own way. ¬|
He paused, giving them a moment to process his words.
|¬But if you do decide to join, then please, let’s try to keep things civil.
After all, you’re here for the rewards, right? Don’t make things difficult for the Spirits—or for yourselves. The last thing you want is to force them into rethinking this alliance, which could leave you with nothing.
And no, you can’t strong-arm them into giving you anything; don’t forget, this is their home turf. ¬|
He swept his gaze across the crowd, making sure his words hit home.
|¬Even if they’ve asked for your help against the Infernal Devils, it doesn’t mean they’re weak. You may have strength, but they have the strength and numbers to deal with you if they have to.
So, let’s all act reasonably. ¬|
Just as he was about to turn away, he paused, casting one last look back at the cultivators.
|¬Oh, and if you decide not to join with them—that’s fine. Just don’t make the mistake of siding with the Infernal Devils. You wouldn’t be the first I’d have to kill. ¬|
His eyes narrowed and his right eye glowed lightly. His threat hung in the air like an unsheathed blade right on their necks.
Turning to Charisse, he softened his expression, smiling as he gestured for her to continue.
"Now then, my dear. Please—carry on."
Charisse inclined her head in silent thanks, then prepared to address the gathering.
Arthur turned and walked away, gradually retracting his aura. Yet even as the oppressive weight lifted, its echo remained, lingering in their mind.
◇ ◇ ◇
Nature’s Dwelling
Iohodis Continent
November 12th
Year 1054
The plans were set; now, it was time to march.
The Armies were split into Ground Units, Aerial Units, Reconnaissance Units, Support Units, and Logistics Units.
The Logistics were further subdivided into Units for Supplies, Weapons, Consumables and Transportation.
Everyone readied their weapons, the air thick with anticipation and nervousness.
With a final glance over the assembled armies, the Spirit Elders raised their weapons to the sky. No speeches were needed, just one command.
[Forward.]
And with that single word, the armies moved, breaking the stillness as they began the march to the east.
To cover the vast distance to the eastern front, the Spirits had organised a march carefully.
Each segment of the army was entrusted to a Sovereign Realm magician, tasked with casting Army Magic spells over their assigned troops.
These spells infused the marching soldiers with enhanced stamina, increasing their endurance and quickening their march.
For this legion of millions, it was the only way to keep moving with strength, given that preparing enough mounts would have been impossible.
The airborne forces, comprised of Spirit Beasts and cultivators who could fly, rose into the sky above the ground-bound ranks.
Thanks to the enchantments, those who marched on foot, could keep pace with the skyward formations.
But knowing that even the enhanced stamina would eventually wear thin, the Spirits devised a strategic rotation.
Every few hours, sections of those who had been marching would climb onto reserve mounts, while those who had been mounted would press forward on foot.
This cycle kept each division fresh and able to endure, sustaining their speed through the long journey.
On Day Two of their march, they reached an area previously controlled by the Infernal Devils but had been partially reclaimed after Yujia’s death.
Yet these lands bore the scars of Infernal Devil occupation.
Artificial mountains and volcanoes dotted the landscape, their red-hot lava spilling over the land—a calculated obstacle left behind, no doubt, to hinder the advancing Spirit forces.
When they reached a safe distance from the volcanoes, the march stopped for the soldiers to get rest.
Standing at the forefront, Arthur, Evan and Charisse surveyed the volcanoes and spoke one after another.
"I’d bet these volcanoes are rigged. One wrong step and this place could blow."
"A single trigger could set off a chain reaction."
"They’ve likely left wards. These volcanoes could erupt in an instant."
Their warnings were phrased differently but underscored the same caution—the path ahead could easily be a minefield of traps.
"We need to neutralize the volcanoes."
"So, we need powers of fire, earth, water and ice?"
"I only prepared rewards for those with Water and Ice elemental abilities."
Once again, they spoke one after another while the Spirit Elders nearby just wondered when the three of them got so in sync.
Arthur and Evan turned to look at one another, sharing understanding without needing to speak.
Then, they both grabbed one of Charisse’s hands, before Arthur teleported the three to the area where the cultivators were resting.
|¬Alright, everyone! Listen up! ¬|
Arthur’s voice called everyone’s attention, even that of the Spirits and Elves who were not the targets for their message.
After him, Evan, infusing his voice with magic power, spoke up.
[There’s a high possibility that all those Volcanoes there are rigged to blow us to smithereens when we try to pass. So, we gotta take them out and secure a safe passage.]
They explained the need for cultivators with powers of water and ice, oppositional forces to subdue the molten threat, as well as Charisse’s willingness to offer immediate rewards to those willing to step forward.
When they were done, they turned to the young woman and she blinked in silence for a moment, before snapping back to reality and speaking.
She revealed the rewards she offered: elemental flowers that could permanently amplify one’s affinity to the ice and water attributes.
Unlike previous promises from the Spirits, this reward was instant, a tempting lure that brought numerous volunteers forward, eager for the precious flowers.
Thanks to Arthur’s show of dominance the other day, managing the cultivators had become markedly easier.
Tensions had simmered down, and the bickering factions were more focused—although, as expected, a few unruly ones remained. But they were a manageable handful now, barely a disturbance among the crowd.
As the volunteers gathered, Evan sat back, casually rocking his chair alongside Arthur, Artemisia, and Beatrix.
He scanned the crowd of eager cultivators, eyes passing over each new face—until his gaze froze on one man stepping forward.
Recognition flashed in his eyes, and he jolted forward in shock, nearly toppling over. The chair rocked dangerously, but he caught himself at the last moment, landing back with surprising balance.
