183: Chapter 183 The Situation Deteriorates

Fifteen minutes later.

Just as the main force of the Dragonman Guild was blinded by bloodlust, swarming into the center of the Winged Race fleet, preparing to wipe out the remnants,

"BOOM—!!!"

A terrifying sound that nearly shattered the very space exploded in the center. King Dominic had crazily detonated the energy reactors of a large number of warships!

This destructive explosion, equivalent to the detonation of hundreds of nuclear bombs, instantly swallowed more than half of the warships, along with tens of thousands of Winged Race civilians and soldiers who hadn't managed to retreat, as well as ten thousand of the most aggressive Dragonman vanguard troops, all in a blinding, high-energy white light!

Under the cover of this indiscriminate, all-consuming super explosion, the Dragonman fleet's originally impenetrable encirclement was ripped open at its weakest point—the northwest corner—by the shockwave.

"Go!!!"

King Dominic was covered in blood, his golden crown long since lost. With the few hundred core guards he had left, he piloted the battered flagship, turning into a streak of light, fleeing in a panic through that gap without looking back, completely abandoning the people and the guild he had once sworn to protect in the hellscape behind him.

...

High above, the flagship of Commander Sargos hovered steadily; not even the earth-shattering self-destruction of the warships could shake it in the slightest.

Watching the Winged Race warships below turn into scrap metal, along with that tiny speck of light escaping in the chaos, Commander Sargos felt no rage; instead, a cold smile curled at the corners of his mouth.

"At the cost of detonating his warships and sacrificing ninety percent of his own people, he bought his own miserable life... This Winged King is even more ruthless than I imagined."

"Minister, King Dominic has escaped! Shall I lead a team to pursue him?"

The Deputy Minister, his face covered in soot, urgently requested orders over the communicator.

"Pursue! Of course, we pursue!"

The magma in Commander Sargos's eyes burned even more intensely as he ordered: "Release fifty percent of the individual combat ships and bite onto his tail. But remember, don't kill him immediately. I want to drain his blood drop by drop, like a cat playing with a mouse!"

Speaking of this, Commander Sargos turned to look at the intelligence officer beside him: "Is the thing I asked you to prepare ready?"

"Reporting to the Minister, the panoramic camera has recorded all the footage from just now—including your refusal to surrender, our army breaking the defense to carry out the massacre, and King Dominic detonating the warships to abandon his people and flee in a panic. It is all recorded at the highest resolution."

"Very good."

Commander Sargos waved his hand, his voice like rolling thunder: "Broadcast this footage across the entire airspace via the unrestricted public band!"

"I want City Lord Zhao Tianyu in Sky City, those Elves and Gnomes cowering in the rear, and even all the humans still harboring illusions to see it clearly..."

"This is the final end for anyone who opposes the Beast Race!"

With King Dominic's abandonment of the city and his escape, the last organized resistance of the Winged Race crumbled.

The sky was filled with the wreckage of crashed warships and mangled corpses.

On the flagship high in the sky, Commander Sargos looked down at the hellscape he had created with his own hands, a cruel and satisfied sneer curling his lips. He opened the army-wide public channel, and his deep, savage voice reached every Dragonman warrior:

"The Winged King has already tucked his tail and fled like a stray dog! This airspace now belongs to you!"

Commander Sargos suddenly spread his arms: "I declare, the carnival has begun! Go and unleash your desire to kill to your heart's content! All remaining supplies and high-level equipment go to whoever grabs them! As for those Winged Race women who didn't manage to escape..."

"Pick whichever ones you like and take them away! Break their wings and tie them to your warships as trophies! Use their despair to celebrate the great victory of our 4th Division!"

"ROAR—!!!"

"Long live Commander Sargos! Long live the Dragonmen!"

Hearing the supreme commander's permission, the thirty thousand Dragonman warriors in the ruins below, who had long since been blinded by bloodlust, instantly boiled over. They let out deafening, beast-like cheers, like a group of demons breaking their chains, grinning as they lunged at the Winged Race civilians trembling in the ruins.

Screams and wild laughter wove together into a picture of hell that was cruel to the extreme.

In this cold world, the weak do not even have the right to choose how they die.

Night at Cloud Top Fortress.

Compared to the mountains of corpses and seas of blood on the front lines, the night inside Cloud Top Fortress seemed exceptionally quiet and warm.

Having just finished a sumptuous dinner, everyone dispersed to attend to their own tasks.

Luo Ning locked herself in the top-floor armory. After capturing a full set of LV6 materials and over a hundred million in supplies, this patient suffering from severe firepower deficiency syndrome fell completely into a frenzied production mode. Vaguely, one could still hear her excited muttering from the top floor, seemingly working through the night to manufacture her long-desired "one thousand Aurora Railguns."

Grace and Ivy returned to the wind chaser, busy soothing guild members and digesting the day's spoils; Hila was sweating profusely in the gravity training room, digesting her combat realizations from the day; Li Muzi was counting the newly acquired special plant seeds in the ecological zone.

Zhou An sat alone in the spacious and luxurious living room.

He relaxed into the soft leather sofa, holding a cup of warm black tea in his hand, then with a thought, he summoned the system's virtual light screen and casually opened the regional chat channel.

However, the moment he opened the interface, Zhou An's brows furrowed tightly.

The chat channel, which usually buzzed with noise every day as people traded supplies, had now fallen into an eerie silence. At the very top of the screen, a video file spreading crazily across the entire airspace had been forcibly pinned by the system in a blood-red font.

The publisher of the video was the 4th Division of the Dragonman Guild.

Zhou An clicked on the video.

The picture was clear, without any editing or concealment. It began with the massive Tier 6 holographic projection of Commander Sargos, coldly declaring the "Genocide Plan."

Immediately after, the scene shifted to the shocking spectacle of seven thousand heavy cannons firing in unison, instantly tearing apart the Winged Race defense line.

Then, it showed King Dominic's despicable act of crazily detonating the reactors to save his own life, turning tens of thousands of his own people and the fleet into ashes.

And the second half of the video was even bloodier to the extreme.

It was a real-time recording of the massacre after Commander Sargos gave the "carnival" order.

Dragonman warriors laughed as they decapitated Winged Race males and kicked their heads around like balls; those beautiful Winged Race women were cruelly trampled underfoot, their proud, pristine white wings were torn and broken, and then they were dragged like livestock, tied to the rear of mechs with high-voltage electromagnetic chains, leaving shocking red trails of blood on the ground...

It was atrocious.

Even for someone like Zhou An, who was accustomed to life and death and whose heart had long since hardened like stone, he couldn't help but feel a cold glint flash in his eyes when he saw these scenes of torture.

The video ended, freezing on the eyes of Commander Sargos, which were burning with magma.

"This is the end for anyone who opposes the Beast Race!"

This sentence was like a bloody dagger, stabbing fiercely into the hearts of all non-Beast Race survivors in the entire airspace.

Zhou An closed the video interface, placed his black tea on the coffee table, leaned forward slightly, and rested his chin on his interlaced fingers, his eyes becoming unusually deep and heavy.

"That piece of trash, King Dominic, not only screwed over his own people but also completely collapsed the situation on the front lines."

Zhou An muttered in a low voice. He didn't feel sympathy for King Dominic; that Winged King, who had wanted to use him as cannon fodder, deserved to die.

But the Winged Race falling so quickly had a fatal impact on the overall situation.

The Beast Race's move of "killing the chicken to scare the monkey" was too ruthless. The defense line in thirty percent of the front-line war zone had been ripped open. The Dragonman army could now drive straight in from this gap at any time, directly threatening the flanks of other races.

"The situation on the front-line battlefield seems to be much worse than I imagined..."

Zhou An turned his head to look at the deep, dark starry sky outside the window.

"The 4th Division of the Dragonman Guild has dealt with the Winged Race, and the next step will definitely be to encircle the rest. I wonder if City Lord Zhao Tianyu and those guys in Sky City can hold out against this group of beasts who have gone completely insane."

...

Sky-Lift Tower, this magnificent building that pierced the clouds, was the heart of the entire Sky City and the last pride and iron wall of the human race in this cruel airspace.

However, at this moment, inside the central command room hundreds of stories up, the atmosphere was so oppressive it felt solid. The large holographic projector was looping that bloody video released by the Dragonman Guild that had spread across the entire airspace.

Blinding firelight and the desperate screams of Winged Race civilians filled the entire room, casting a bloody red glow on the cold alloy walls.

The new Deputy Minister of Intelligence, Deputy Minister Ye Shengge, stood straight before the command console. She was wearing a well-tailored black military trench coat, and her fair face looked somewhat pale against the backdrop of the bloody red light.

"City Lord, the latest casualty report from the front line has been compiled."

Deputy Minister Ye Shengge took a deep breath, placed the tactical tablet in her hand on the table, and although she tried her best to keep her voice calm, a hint of undeniable heaviness could still be heard:

"Since the peace talks between the ten thousand races collapsed and the full-scale war began, the first thirty percent of the engagement zone has completely become a meat grinder from which there is no return. Up to now... we have buried five thousand Expeditionary Army brothers in that meat grinder, and the remaining callable troops on the front line number about seventy thousand."

Behind these cold numbers were five thousand living human elites, the foundation accumulated by Sky City over a generation, all turned to dust in such a short time.

"In response to this dire situation, the logistics and reserve systems in the city are already running at full capacity."

Deputy Minister Ye Shengge continued to report.

"All reserve legions have canceled all leave and have fully resumed twenty-four-hour high-intensity rotation training. Currently, there are fifty thousand able-bodied personnel in the city who can be immediately mobilized and deployed to the front line for a desperate battle, along with ten thousand warships of various types."

Under the bloody red light of the holographic screen, City Lord Zhao Tianyu stood silently before the huge floor-to-ceiling window with his hands behind his back. His broad back was like a silent, active volcano; although it hadn't erupted, the suffocating pressure made the air in the entire command room thick.

He did not turn around, only coldly watching the city dome illuminated by the artificial star outside the window, extreme rage and killing intent churning in his deep eyes.

"The Dragonman Race is killing the chicken to scare the monkey, performing for the entire airspace to see."

"Connect me to Guild Leader Lin Xiaotian."

"Yes!"

Deputy Minister Ye Shengge immediately entered a long string of commands into the console.

A few seconds later, the bloody images on the holographic projection were cut off. The screen flickered a few times, and the resolute, wind-weathered face of Guild Leader Lin Xiaotian appeared on the screen. He seemed to be inside a command ship sailing in silence, the background lighting somewhat dim.

"Xiaotian, how is the situation?"

City Lord Zhao Tianyu turned around, his sharp gaze piercing the screen.

"City Lord, everything is going smoothly; all fleets have been integrated."

Guild Leader Lin Xiaotian lowered his head slightly, his tone steady.

"And my fleet has passed through the thunderstorm blockade zone and successfully rendezvoused with the Elf Race troops at the designated coordinates."

"Good."

"The Dragonman Guild slaughtered the Winged Race main city today, their morale is high, and the situation is changing drastically every day. Since you have rendezvoused over there, act as soon as possible! Do not delay, lest complications arise."

"Understood. Please rest assured, City Lord." Guild Leader Lin Xiaotian nodded heavily.

The communication cut off instantly.

As the communication screen dimmed, Guild Leader Lin Xiaotian let out a long sigh. He straightened his slightly wrinkled officer's uniform and turned to walk out of the small, secure communication room.

His military boots made a dull, rhythmic "click-clack" sound on the cold alloy corridor.

Passing through two heavily guarded blast doors, Guild Leader Lin Xiaotian arrived before the highest-spec reception room of the command ship. Two human guards outside the door saluted him, then slowly pushed the doors open.

The layout inside the reception room was extremely exquisite, but the most eye-catching thing was a slender figure standing before the giant star map sand table.

It was a male Elf. He had long silver hair that flowed like moonlight, and pointed ears protruded from between his locks. He was not wearing the complex robes traditional to the Elf Race, but rather a set of mithril light armor inscribed with countless deep blue magic runes.

This battle armor, full of magical aura, formed a strong contrast and visual impact with the surrounding cold human mechanical technology.

The Third Elder of the Elf Race—Orville.

Hearing the movement of the door opening, Orville turned around. His face, handsome to the point of being eerie, was devoid of any expression, like an ancient, deep forest pool that was brewing a storm.

"Commander Lin, what did City Lord Zhao say?"

Clearly, the slaughter video broadcast by the Dragonman Race across the network had also deeply disturbed this normally aloof Elf Elder. The Winged Race's today could very well be the Elf Race's tomorrow. He, who had lived for a long time, understood the logic of "when the lips are gone, the teeth are cold" better than anyone.

Guild Leader Lin Xiaotian walked up to the star map sand table with large strides, placing both hands heavily on the edge, his eyes as sharp as knives: "The City Lord has given the order. Complications arise from delay; the situation does not allow us any more probing or hesitation."

He raised his head, looking directly into Orville's eyes, which were like cold pools, and said word by word: "Third Elder, the plan is moved forward."

Orville narrowed his eyes slightly. He extended his slender, pale finger and tapped lightly on a coordinate on the star map sand table.

"Since City Lord Zhao has made his decision, the Elf Race will naturally not back down."

"Then, let's set the time for tomorrow morning at eight o'clock. By then, the Elf Race's Archmage Legion will completely tear open the dimensional barrier of that space, and your fleet's main cannons must complete their coverage and bombardment at the very first moment."

"That goes without saying."

Guild Leader Lin Xiaotian curled his lips into a bloodthirsty and cruel sneer. He raised his hand and pressed a red chess piece representing the human fleet firmly onto the coordinate point pointed out by Orville on the star map.

"Tomorrow morning at eight."

"The army is bearing down on the border. This time... we are going to give them a gift they will never forget!"