“Are you completely out of your mind?!” This unified thought flashed through the minds of over three hundred million viewers at the exact same millisecond.
The next moment, a scene they would carry with them to their graves unfolded on their screens.
The blazing green meteor and the devastating torrent of white-hot dragon’s breath collided violently in mid-air.
The anticipated vaporization did not occur.
The expected stalemate was also incredibly short-lived.
The absolute instant they made physical contact, the highly refined, destructive elemental breath was cleanly cleaved in two.
The violent fire energy contained within the blast was forcefully repelled and torn apart in front of Zoro’s Conqueror’s Haki, as if it had slammed directly into its structural nemesis.
The green meteor raced fiercely against the current within the severed channel of the dragon’s breath, its kinetic momentum never dropping for a single second.
Instead, it suddenly accelerated again with a secondary burst of its own raw physical power.
It was fast—a level of speed that tore at the viewer’s vision and completely transcended human thought.
King of Hell Three-Sword Style…
The green flash seemed to pierce right through the distance of space.
One moment it was still navigating the core of the blast; the next, it had materialized directly in front of the Fire Dragon Emperor’s ferocious head composed of pure, liquid flame.
Zoro’s physical outline became visible for a fleeting fraction of a second amidst the high-velocity displacement.
He adopted an unprecedented Three-Sword Style starting stance, his skeletal frame leaning back like a fully drawn, high-tension composite bow.
The boiling green Conqueror’s Haki condensed heavily across the edges of his blades, compressed to its absolute mechanical limit until it transformed into an aura of solid light.
“King of Hell Three-Sword Style: Dragon Hell Blaze!” Screeech!
Roar!
The Fire Dragon Emperor unleashed a sharp, agonizing shriek that sounded entirely different from its previous majestic roars—a cry packed with pure physical pain, sudden shock, and total disbelief.
Its massive body, constructed from advanced elementalization and supposedly immune to all physical harm, reacted as if it had encountered its natural, conceptual predator the moment it came into contact with the emerald-black blade net.
The orderly, high-powered energy framework that constituted its elemental mass began to rapidly destabilize, descending into absolute chaos before being forcefully cleaved apart by the strikes coated in Conqueror’s Haki.
The black-green blade-light swept across the Fire Dragon Emperor’s massive frame, cutting clean in from the dragon’s head and driving all the way down to the tip of its tail.
-60,000!
The maximum health metric was instantly wiped out, the massive red damage digits burning themselves directly into the retinas and minds of the audience.
Pfft…
Like a punctured balloon or a massive bonfire that had been instantly starved of oxygen, the colossal elemental avatar, stretching over a hundred meters long, convulsed and twisted violently in mid-air.
It emitted a series of muffled, internal explosions as its elemental energy pool went completely out of control.
The liquid flames covering its frame extinguished and dissipated at a speed visible to the naked eye.
The entire colossal elemental mass transformed into countless drifting, lifeless, and dim embers, falling down to dissolve into the surging magma below.
[System Log Update: You have defeated the Fire Dragon Emperor Avatar (Boss) and gained 5,000 experience points.] Zoro’s figure slowly descended from the air, landing gracefully on a protruding crag of black rock that had not yet been swallowed by the rising lava.
The dark green light coating the three long katanas in his grip slowly faded, and he smoothly guided the blades back into their sheaths.
He slightly raised his head, looking up at the churning fire clouds in the sky that had fallen into chaotic disarray after losing their master.
The red soul fire inside his sockets burned with absolute calm, as if he had merely executed a trivial chore.
The Starry Sky livestream chat box went entirely, hysterically insane.
It was a level of digital frenzy that completely eclipsed everything that came before.
Countless question marks, exclamation points, shocked roaring, and incoherent walls of screaming flooded the monitor.
“????????????????????????????” “It was deleted in seconds again?!” “The Advanced Elementalization…
was physically broken?
The boss was killed outright?!” “This…
how is this even possible?
He actually managed to deal direct health damage through an active elemental form!” “How did he bypass the mechanics?
The system explicitly stated that elementalization cannot be penetrated until the opponent’s energy or stamina pool is thoroughly depleted!” First War Zone, Imperial Capital.
The massive, circular supreme council chamber was draped in a solemn, silent atmosphere.
Minimalist silver patterns were embedded into the dark gray walls, and a high-tech virtual sand table floated silently in the center of the room, projecting the active strategic situation of the human race’s six primary war zones in real time.
Beside the long conference table, six incredibly detailed virtual avatars projected via cutting-edge holographic arrays sat in a rigid row.
These were the highest-ranking military officials who guarded the six cardinal directions of human territory, individuals who held absolute command.
Seated at the absolute head of the table was a dignified elderly man dressed in a crisp, starched military uniform, his epaulets adorned with gold stars and crossed sword insignia.
His face was thin, his eyes deep and unreadable like an ancient well; every single wrinkle across his skin seemed to be engraved with the passage of three centuries of warfare and bloodshed.
Marshal Christopher, the Supreme Commander of humanity’s joint forces.
He was a living legend among the very first generation of awakened combatants, having protected the human race through three hundred years of endless trials and existential tribulations.
At this moment, the regional commanders were delivering briefings regarding the intelligence status of their respective sectors.
Until the sequence reached the commander of the Sixth War Zone.
The Sixth War Zone was responsible for global intelligence gathering, deep-cover espionage, and targeted counter-assassinations.
The representative’s avatar was completely shrouded in a specialized shadow combat suit, the facial features concealed behind an advanced optical camouflage mask.
The vocal output had been run through a neutral synthesizer, presenting a flat, emotionless tone that made it impossible to determine gender or age.
This individual was Regional Governor Clarence.
“Marshal Christopher, everyone,” Clarence began, the synthesized voice cutting through the hum of the sand table.
“Yesterday was the global Awakening Day.
Our intelligence networks have verified that the Northern Barbarian Sovereignty and the Southern Myriad-Bug Demon Faction have each successfully awakened two brand-new Mythical-class professionals.” The ambient atmosphere inside the supreme chamber seemed to freeze instantly.
Currently, the two most aggressive, predatory races surrounding human territory were the Barbarians and the Bug Demons.
“This defies standard probability models,” a heavily built general with a hideous scar cutting across his face shouted, his voice booming with a fierce aura.
“We haven’t seen multiple Mythical classes manifest across decades, sometimes even centuries.
How the hell are they suddenly sprouting out of the dirt like common radishes this year?” This massive general was Commander Victor, the head of the Fourth War Zone, which was directly positioned along the brutal border separating humanity from the Myriad-Bug Demon Faction.
General Arthur, the head of the Fifth War Zone guarding the northern frontier against the Barbarian Sovereignty, knit his brow into a deep frown.
His voice was low and heavy.
“This is an extreme statistical anomaly.
Could it mean an unmonitored structural shift has occurred within the core layers of the Endless Continent that we are currently blind to?” “That was my primary hypothesis as well,” Regional Governor Clarence responded smoothly.
“Therefore, I authorized an immediate information acquisition contract with the Goblin Trade Syndicate operating within our commercial sectors.” The Goblins were a massive, global race that prioritized capital accumulation and trans-regional commerce.
Their operational networks spanned the entirety of the Endless Continent.
Furthermore, they possessed highly classified, long-distance communication arrays; as long as an organization possessed the necessary funding, any tier of international intelligence could be purchased from their vaults.
“Deliver the summary,” Marshal Christopher uttered, a single, concise word of command.
“The Goblin networks claim that another Sequence Artifact has officially manifested within the central continent,” Clarence stated.
According to ancient lore and systemic prophecies, Sequence Artifacts were the primordial tools used by the Creator God during the genesis era, each possessing unimaginable, world-bending power.
Furthermore, legend dictated that securing a Sequence Artifact granted an empire the formal right to contend for the Creator God’s supreme Treasure Trove at the center of the world.
Every single time a new Sequence Artifact emerged, a massive wave of primordial origin energy was released from the hidden dimensions of the central Treasure Trove.
This energy nourished the surrounding continents, resulting in a dramatic spike in the birth rate of native creatures possessing mythical potential.
The moment Clarence mentioned the Sequence Artifact, every single general at the table fell into a grim silence.
The human race currently occupied a mid-level hierarchy within the Endless Continent.
Every single historical appearance of a Sequence Artifact had triggered a catastrophic, continent-wide bloody storm.
The supreme empires that could actively participate in that high-tier competition were ancient sovereign factions that could dismantle the entire human race with a wave of their hand.
A long, suffocating silence followed.
General Arthur spoke slowly, his voice dry.
“What are the specific classes and tiers of the newly awakened Bug Demon and Barbarian myths?” “They are all locked at the Low Grade tier,” Clarence reported.
“But our analysts have verified that all four are strictly combat-oriented builds.” The eyes of every general at the table sharpened instantly.
“This places us in an incredibly dangerous strategic bottleneck,” General Arthur said, leaning back heavily into his leather chair, his face grim.
Once a combat-oriented Mythical class fully matured into the late game, their localized destructive output was equivalent to the nuclear weapons of the old era.
If the balance of numbers between neighboring factions became structurally skewed, the tripartite equilibrium that kept humanity safe would be completely obliterated.
The historical status quo was that the Bug Demons and the Barbarians each commanded one active Mythical-tier powerhouse, while humanity possessed two.
However, one of humanity’s Mythical-class professionals was strictly a support-oriented asset—a Divine Enchantment Blacksmith.
While his direct solo combat capabilities were severely lacking, his strategic value for production was supreme.
The rapid proliferation of advanced enchantment gear across the military over the past few decades had drastically upscaled the baseline combat efficiency of human soldiers.
If the baseline situation had remained stable, humanity’s overall army efficiency would have eventually overwhelmed both rival factions, allowing them to secure their borders permanently.
But that strategy was dead now.
The enemy’s sudden influx of combat myths meant time had officially run out for a slow, industrial development model.