“Now, you pay the price.”
Hearing the puppet’s scorning voice, Gudora unleashed his crystal mist, turned the puppet head into crystal, and shattered it into powder. He unleashed his Prana radially, enveloping the entire City Lord Estate, looking for Inala’s traces. ‘He’s not here.’
He grunted in anger, observing the corpses of soldiers strewn across the estate. Everyone there had been slaughtered, with Hanya being the last of them. ‘He killed Lurt too.’
“Inala!” Gudora was unable to control his anger, but the puppet’s words continued to echo in his mind. Indeed, as explained by the voice, the moment Gudora unleashed his presence in full display, the energy waves billowed out of Ellora City.
The Centingers far away would consider it a challenge. After all, an 8-Life Stage cultivator was strong enough to kill two or three of them easily. Therefore, killing such an enemy would net them the greatest number of points.
As a result, more Centingers were drawn to Ellora City, raising the pressure it faced. Since the puppet taunted him, Gudora realised that he had noticed too late. Based on the state of Hanya’s corpse, she had been killed at least an hour before.
That was more than enough time for Inala to flee the Kingdom. Without knowing in which direction he was fleeing, chasing after him was impossible.
“I must protect my city.” Gudora tried his best to calm himself as he rushed back to the city walls. He lost his wife, yes. But his children and grandchildren were still in the city. He had to protect them all. Therefore, it wasn’t time to dwell on hatred and chase after an enemy that had fled the place.
“One day, Inala.” Gudora made a vow, “One day, I’ll kill your loved ones before your eyes, torture you, and convert you into a beast that cleans the city’s sewer with his tongue, forever!”
38 Centingers were rushing towards Ellora City, intent to raze it down. Seeing the massive city walls only excited them, for the stronger the target, the greater the points they could farm.
Before they approached the range of their artillery strike, Gudora returned to his post. Seeing his seething anger, everyone realised that something had happened to Hanya, especially since there was no sludge dome covering the city’s airspace.
“We’ll butcher them all!” Gudora roared, his authority intoxicating as it spread to all the soldiers. Soon, killing intent reverberated throughout the region, growing like the tide before slamming into the incoming Centingers.
Unknown to Gudora, seated in one of the shelters, taking rest while rubbing her aching throat was a seventeen-year-old girl, the sole person in the anxious-ridden crowd who was fast asleep.
It was Inala!
After killing Asaeya, he looted the City Lord’s treasury dry. He didn’t have the time to look through them, for he was dead tired. Hence, after swallowing them all into his biome, he sneaked into a shelter by assuming his female form.
At a corner in the shelter where girls his age cowered around, he took a spot, closed his eyes, and fell asleep. Hidden amidst his clothes was the Empyrean Zinger King in its miniature form. He had collected all the scattered Empyrean Zingers before running to the shelter.
Except for the Empyrean Zinger King, all other Empyrean Zingers were within the biome in his stomach. As Inala used the Prana Blood Skill against Hanya, he was currently reeling from the side effects, using some lifeforce to heal faster.
But even otherwise, he needed rest, having not had a wink of sleep for eight days. He had already gone a day without sleep when he was captured. If he doesn’t take ample rest, he will collapse before he manages to meet up with Asaeya and baby Gannala.
“Who is she?” A trembling girl seated nearby Inala stared at him and wondered, asking around, “How can she sleep in such a situation?”
“Look at her dirty clothes. She’s probably from the slums.” Another girl commented and covered her nose, “There’s a stench coming from her. Gosh! How long has it been since she last bathed?”
At least, commenting about Inala allowed the girls to recover some peace of mind, calming down from their originally tense state. But that was all they could do.
Most of them had less than thirty Prana. In this situation, there was nothing they could do. Their control over a Spirit Weapon wasn’t even good enough to harm an Iron Grade Pranic Beast, not to mention the type of enemies they were currently facing.
They weren’t even trained in the way of combat, instead focusing on other aspects of life.
Seated at the very front of the shelter were able-bodied men and women, those at the peak of the Spirit Stage or close to it. They served as a reserve force for the City Lord.
The only reason they weren’t participating is because Ellora City ran out of resources necessary to elevate them to the Body Stage. As cultivators at the Spirit Stage didn’t have enough power in their attacks to make a difference, they were kept on standby.
But everyone knew one thing. If this reserve force had to be called upon, then it meant their city was on the verge of doom.
“Steady!” Gudora said and watched the Centingers come within a range of ten kilometres from them. Upon noticing their pacing slow down, he announced quickly, “Archers! Take position!”
Standing at the forefront of the city wall were eight thousand Body Stage cultivators. Simultaneously, they activated their Human Avatars, transforming their hands into a rubbery substance covered by glitter that resembled a lustrous metal.
Immediately, a crossbow formed on both their hands, ridiculously tough. The glittery substance accumulated into the crossbow to form an arrow. The moment it finished forming, the crossbow began to load, accumulating more and more elastic potential.
Prana surged in the arrows, turning them deadlier as the soldiers calmly aimed them forward. 𝚘𝒱𝑙xt.𝒸𝞸𝕞
“Load!” At Gudora’s shout, a team of soldiers activated their Human Avatars and touched the arrow bolts, infusing their Prana into it. They grew Human Avatars with poisonous properties, capable of infusing them into the arrows the other soldiers created.
“For my family.” A soldier clasped his hands together and faced his hands forward. The crossbows on either hand were parallel to each other, continuing to accumulate power. “For my home!”
From ten kilometres to eight, seven, six, five…the scuttling legs on the Centingers were brimming with Prana, having finished charging up their artillery attack. The moment they stop, the attack would be launched.
As they slowed down, Gudora counted down, “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two…”
His eyes seethed with bloodlust as the moment the Centingers stopped, he shouted, “One!”
“Shoot!” Both sides launched an artillery strike.
The Millinger Catastrophe had officially begun!