The time for idle chatter quickly came to an end.
Once the two armies on the drill grounds had finished their preparations— Snap!
Tian’el flicked his fingers.
An invisible, overwhelming force erupted from within him, instantly enveloping the entire stage.
It was as if the world itself had been pressed with a “replace” key.
The once solid earth transformed into a boundless, hazy gray plain of chaos.
The sky folded layer upon layer, while the sun, moon, and stars divided into the Three Enclosures and Twenty-Eight Mansions, revolving together around the eternal Imperial Star.
The two armies stood clearly separated at opposite ends of the plain.
The atmosphere on the field was grim to the extreme.
“…This is the Domain of the Mind that can be condensed after stepping into the ninth stage of the Sacred Path system?” Hermes and the other gods of the Lower World clicked their tongues, wearing expressions that plainly said, You must be joking.
“Here, I can completely unseal my divine power without worrying about being detected by the laws of Heaven,” Eris said with a strange look, her tone certain.
“This is clearly a small world that has entirely overwritten reality!” Alfia and Alise Lovell, along with the others, fell silent— It was common knowledge that gods could not use their divine power in the lower world.
Even a random monster could knock them flat.
Thus, adventurers had grown accustomed to regarding their patron gods as beings who required protection.
Even as the other legends stepped forward to prepare for a direct clash with Rakia’s grand army, a group had tacitly remained at Tian’el’s side.
But now it seemed that if something truly occurred that would send their god back to Heaven, their level of strength would not be able to help at all.
“It feels like what our Lord God needs at his side are maids or secretaries to handle intelligence and administrative affairs.
Pure bodyguards don’t seem to have much meaning, do they?” In response to the adventurers’ low murmurs, Tian’el merely smiled without offering further explanation.
In theory, this was indeed a domain naturally manifested from the mind once a cultivator stepped into the ninth stage of the Mortal Realm.
As for why its scale could reach such an extent…
one could only say that people could not be compared to one another.
Tian’el’s true body had, after all, been baptized by the origin of Heaven.
Bearing the authority of the Celestial Emperor, condensed from countless laws, the manifestation of his inner world naturally carried the qualities of a world itself, capable of twisting space-time and rewriting laws to a certain degree.
The next moment, the voice of the Celestial Emperor resounded calm and majestic, echoing within the soul of every being inside the domain: “Within this training ground, the boundary between life and death is blurred.
Fight as you will.
There is no need to fear casualties.” The instant his words fell, Rakia’s army of one hundred thousand cast aside their shock at the current situation and swiftly formed ranks—after all, the miracles displayed by their god were far from unprecedented.
“For the glory of Rakia!
Kill!” At the command of a general clad in heavy armor, the army moved.
Drums beat in a peculiar rhythm, each strike matching the frequency of vital blood resonance, guiding every soldier into a massive unified formation.
Their voices rose together, a roar that shook the heavens.
In the next second, a shocking scene unfolded.
The vital blood within every soldier seemed to find a common source, surging madly toward the center.
Their skin gleamed with a bronze luster.
Veins bulged like coiling dragons.
Beastlike roars burst from their throats.
A torrential crimson energy shot into the sky, twisting and shaping itself in midair before finally forming into a colossal phantom of Bashe, over three hundred feet long, its scales and claws savage and fearsome.
Bashe opened its blood-filled maw in a silent hiss.
Destructive energy brewed within, as though it intended to devour every enemy before it.
“Interesting.
So this is the level those Rakian cats can display?” On the opposite side of the battlefield, the former legends clicked their tongues in fascination.
Fear, however, was naturally out of the question.
The enemy numbered only a hundred thousand troops.
They had thirty thousand adventurers.
Though fewer in number, their quality was terrifying— The Level 9 Empress.
Several Level 8s led by Maxim.
Over twenty Level 7s including Zald.
Alongside numerous Level 6s and Level 5s…
The strength of just these first-tier adventurers was enough to sweep across every city and kingdom on the continent.
“All familias, act according to your own styles.
Engage the enemy.” The Empress’ cold voice rang out, devoid of emotion.
Behind her, thirty thousand adventurers reacted instantly.
They did not assemble into a unified formation.
Instead, they scattered like loose sand, each fighting independently—yet an invisible tacit understanding bound them together.
Facing the sky-blotting phantom of Bashe, Maxim threw his head back and roared, his voice like rolling thunder.
The giant axe in his hand rose high, its blade blazing with blinding golden light.
He transformed into a streak of golden lightning and cleaved fiercely toward Bashe’s head.
Boom—!!!
The clash of metal rang out, solidifying into tangible shockwaves that swept across the entire domain.
Maxim and the phantom of Bashe collided violently, erupting in brilliance so radiant that the gray heavens were illuminated like midday.
Yet less than two seconds later, the small figure was sent flying like a falling star, crashing several miles away and carving a massive trench along his path.
“Captain, you idiot!” Zald pressed a hand to his forehead in speechless exasperation.
Knowing full well that the phantom before them gathered the power of an entire army, he still charged head-on.
Even if he was eager to test the might of this new system firsthand, this was far too reckless.
“Ignore him.
Move!” The Empress of the Hera Familia was clearly accustomed to her ally’s usual antics.
While Maxim drew the enemy’s fire from the front, a cold decisiveness flashed in her golden eyes.
She spoke no unnecessary words.
With a graceful lift of her hand, the adventurers behind her dispersed like a pack of wolves receiving supreme command.
Each of them fought in a completely different manner.
Some wove sword light into nets, harvesting lives in close combat as easily as plucking something from a pocket.
Some moved like assassins, slipping freely through tens of thousands of troops, striking only at vital points.
Others—mages—completed ultra-fast chants, joining forces to unleash overwhelming firepower suppression.
This seemingly chaotic coordination, paired with the adventurers’ far superior individual strength, achieved the effect of tigers plunging into a flock of sheep.
Within minutes, Rakia’s formation was thrown into complete disarray.
The outcome of the battle seemed decided from the very moment it began.
“Hmph!” From the viewing seats, Ares let out a displeased sneer.
“Do you really think this is still an era where first-tier adventurers can roam freely within an army?” The times had long since changed.
Let them witness the brand-new blessing Rakia had obtained from their god!
“Hold the line!
Change formation immediately!” On the battlefield, the commander of the hundred-thousand-strong army—having successfully converted his cultivation and, with the aid of abundant resources, stepped into the fifth stage, able to actively draw upon the energy of heaven and earth—let out a furious roar.
A near-mad flame burned in his eyes.
In the past, under Ares’ orders, he had led his army in repeated assaults against the nations of the continent and Orario, only to be defeated time and again by the overwhelming individual might of powerful adventurers.
This time, the great Sovereign of High Heaven was watching from the stands.
How could they repeat the same failure again?
“Order!
Initiate Blood Soul Sacrifice!
Objective—at all costs, kill them!” The command struck like thunder in the hearts of every Rakian soldier.
Blood Soul Sacrifice.
It was the most brutal combat method Tian’el had imparted while training this army, permitted only when one had resolved to perish alongside the enemy.
Once activated, the life force and vital blood of all participants would be drained in an instant, converging into a torrent of power capable of destroying heaven and earth.
Though this was merely an exercise, since the boundary between life and death had already been blurred, they would naturally exhaust everything to seize victory.
“…For the glory of Rakia!
For our god’s grace!
Burn the last drop of blood!” After a brief hesitation, the hundred thousand soldiers roared as one.
They no longer attempted to maintain defensive formations.
Abandoning all technique, they charged directly toward the core of the adventurer forces, driven by pure instinct and madness.
“Not good!” Sensing the utterly reckless momentum surging toward her, the Empress’ pupils contracted sharply.
For a fleeting moment, the sensation reminded her of the life-and-death struggles against the three great quests.
Before her resurrection, she had crossed such peril once, twice—only to fall on the path of subjugating the Black Dragon the third time.
The adventurers also realized something was wrong.
These Rakian soldiers were like dying beasts.
They felt no fear of pain.
Even if a blade sliced across their throats, they would still bite down with teeth and claws, determined to tear a chunk of flesh from their enemies.
“Hold the formation!
Don’t let yourselves be divided and surrounded!” Maxim shouted sharply, a gravity unlike any before entering his voice.
But it was already too late.
At the instant the armies dissolved into chaotic melee, the Rakian commander drove his sword into the ground and, with every ounce of strength remaining, unleashed a soul-piercing shriek.
“Sacri—fice—!!!” Hummm—!
A visible crimson halo erupted outward from the general, spreading in an instant across the entire battlefield.
The bodies of all hundred thousand soldiers lit up with blinding red light.
Their skin withered at a visible speed.
Their life essence and vital blood were forcibly extracted, transforming into thick crimson chains that converged toward the sky.
The heavens—once gray and chaotic—were dyed with a dense, inescapable blood-red.
Rumble—!
The earth trembled.
Space itself seemed to wail.
An indescribable, crushing pressure descended from above, as though the weight of the entire world had been placed upon the adventurers’ shoulders.
Their speed plummeted.
Their movements grew sluggish.
Every swing of a sword, every step forward, demanded dozens of times more strength than before.
“Damn it!
What the hell is this thing?!” Feeling the invisible “gravity field” forcibly stripping away the adventurers’ mobility and speed advantage, Zald howled as he smashed aside the soldiers before him with a single punch.
But it was useless.
In the next instant, more than a dozen crimson chains lashed toward him.
He felt as though he were swimming through sticky syrup.
Not only were his strength and speed suppressed, even his mind began to fray under the suicidal will of a hundred thousand soldiers.
“Hold on!” Maxim roared.
The golden light around him blazed even brighter as he swung his weapon, defeating enemy after enemy.
Yet he too was gradually bound by the ever-growing “gravity field.” One crimson chain after another coiled around him.
The immense life force within his body became nourishment for them, further multiplying their number.
“Everyone, find your own way out of the battlefield!” For the first time, the Empress’ regal composure wavered.
Fine beads of sweat appeared at her temples.
She could feel her strength being steadily worn down and devoured by the crimson energy.
Who could have imagined that these Rakian madmen would, without hesitation, choose a mutually assured destruction strategy?
As expected of Ares’ nation.
They were completely insane.
“Now!” The Rakian commander’s body had already shriveled into a desiccated corpse, yet his voice seemed to echo on.
The crimson energy in the sky reached its peak, forming a colossal net that blotted out the heavens as it descended upon everyone below—friend and foe alike.
Flames of destruction ignited, threatening to burn the entire world to ash…
…
From the viewing stands, Tian’el, the assembled gods, Alfia, and the others silently watched the brutal battlefield in the distance.
The Empress and Maxim made a decisive choice—break through with all the adventurers.
Relying on unyielding will and superior individual strength, they fought desperately through the gaps in the crimson net.
Sword light severed chains.
Magic tore apart the blood mist.
Yet with every step forward, figures of their companions fell amid the crimson glow, their bodies withering into lifeless husks before being consumed by the scarlet flames and reduced to ash.
In mere minutes, the force of thirty thousand adventurers was utterly crippled.
In the end, only a handful of Level 8s and the sole Level 9 managed to break through the blockade.
But just as they thought they had escaped with their lives, the sea of flames stretching for dozens of miles detonated the moment the final Rakian soldier died, erupting outward in a cataclysmic shockwave.
The remaining adventurers were swallowed whole.
Not a single person survived on the battlefield.
“…Has the age of adventurers come to an end?” Alfia closed her eyes, as though displeased by the chaotic clamor of the field.
“It would seem so.
We truly witnessed something extraordinary today,” Hermes said, adjusting his hat, his tone layered with unreadable emotion.
The power of those thirty thousand adventurers was, in truth, already comparable to the lower world at its peak ten years ago—perhaps even stronger.
After all, these resurrected legends were formidable figures who had died across different eras over the past century.
Theoretically, they could never have gathered in the same time period.
The gods had spent a thousand years to bring about the opportunity that occurred ten years ago.
Yet how long had it taken their god to create an army capable of mutual destruction against them?
Less than a month.
Not to mention that the continent’s population numbered in the hundreds of millions.
Even if a hundred thousand soldiers were lost in a single day, another hundred thousand, two hundred thousand—even a million—could be raised again.
As for adventurers, their scarcity went without saying.
Even if every record were broken, advancing from Level 1 to Level 2 required at least a year.
Thus, the death of any top-tier adventurer would become an irreparable loss.
“Mm.
It seems they are barely fit for use.” Tian’el nodded calmly, confirming that the next step of his plan could proceed.
An invisible force instantly altered the laws within the domain.
The concept of death was denied.
The one hundred and thirty thousand fallen warriors slowly rose to their feet once more.