Legend of the chosen ones: Beyond Destiny

At first, no one paid attention to this disaster.

It was nothing more than a thunderous noise, an explosion, the collapse of a house, a spreading fire, until the brilliance descending from the sky was like stars scattered across the heavens, accompanied by ominous howling and relentless detonations...

Destruction and death were intricately linked to everyone.

When the first thunderous sound came from the heart of the Iron Hook District, the violent booming disturbed the hustle and bustle of the Wharf District.

In the stench of fish, pirates moving their cargo out looked back instinctively.

The man smoking raised his head, his sunglasses reflecting the sky-reaching Flame Light, froze for a moment, and instinctively removed the cigarette from his mouth:

"What the hell..."

BOOM!!!

The rolling Fierce Flame erupted suddenly, engulfing them completely, turning the entire wharf into a sea of fire.

The second missile descended from the sky!

After the first shot served as a greeting, the second shot rushed straight to the liveliest and most bustling wharf, a hub where countless pirates gathered and dispersed.

The solid Fuel Element bomb plunged into the ground, like a drop into the ocean, stirring up crimson ripples. A tide of flames rose and swept in all directions, instantly evaporating everyone on the wharf.

Immediately after, amidst sharp whistling through the air, countless trails fell from the clouds like willow branches, covering the entire periphery of the Iron Hook District.

Forward, Harvest, Pegasus, Dragon Scale, Heavenly Father, Biaozi, Mole...

All the ships anchored at the shore and next to the reefs on the outskirts of the Iron Hook District faced a brutal roll call, receiving gifts from the sky without any omissions or exceptions.

Within the turbulent settlement, one could only see beyond the makeshift shanties, trees of fire rising one after another. The lush Flame Light danced and spread, hatching enormous gray-black mushrooms.

Finally, layers of scorching smoke gathered together like an iron-gray wall, enclosing the entire Iron Hook District.

To the left, to the right, up, down, there was no end.

Just like Death drawing a boundary from the clouds.

Without words or expression, seeing was understanding — those within the circle would not survive today!

In the gathering area, the pounding rhythms and music came to an abrupt halt. Sailors indulging under the influence of illicit drugs and alcohol widened their eyes in confusion, looking around and feeling the vibrations from the steel deck beneath them.

"An earthquake?"

The cigar-smoking ship owner had just raised his glass when he heard a shattering roar. The dome of the ballroom exploded, taking with it an entire wall as countless fragments scattered, and the dim sky outside poured in like a waterfall.

Bringing cries, bringing smoke, bringing the light of flames.

Made him freeze on the spot.

"No, something's wrong..."

Instinctive trembling and fear surfaced in his heart, bringing with them memories of the past.

The sea set ablaze, the sky filled with smoke, islands and cities burned to ashes in the fierce flames...

A gale whistled in through the rupture, bringing the foul stench and smoke of charred corpses.

That was the smell of war.

In this brief deathly silence, he couldn't help but stand up and scream:

"Air raid!!!"

BOOM!!!!

Missiles, like birds, pierced through the crack in the ceiling, descended from the sky, and the countless metal Fragments ejected from the flames submerged everything.

Wharf, warehouse, berthing area, outer residential area...

At this moment, the entire Iron Hook District, alarms blared, rising and falling.

The lower layers almost sinking into the seawater sewers, the middle layers with black-market stalls and illicit businesses, the upper layers with lavish casinos and hotels, were all engulfed in the explosions descending from the sky.

And at the top of the iron tower, Satria suddenly opened the curtains, overlooking the rapidly spreading flames, as if struck by lightning.

"What's happening?!"

"Missiles!!!"

In another violent tremor, Himawan staggered in from outside, his face pale: "Someone is launching missiles at us, it's Ji... it must be Ji..."

Before he could finish, he saw the steel brilliance howling outside the window.

Like falling stars.

Straight toward them, delivering greetings from the Seven Cities.

——Hello!

And so, an unprecedented thunderous roar enveloped the entire mourning Iron Hook District. As everyone blankly looked up, they only saw the towering tower, like an eternal symbol of authority, break in half amidst the spreading smoke and flames.

A sharp shadow rapidly enlarged, accompanied by pervasive dust, crashing to the ground, piercing through the already rusted patchwork iron deck, plunging into the boiling sea below.

The sky and sea were no longer dull. The world was illuminated by warm firelight, cries of distress continued endlessly, and the enormous Iron Hook District, along with countless parasites, ushered in their apocalypse and reckoning.

Beneath the brilliance of stars constantly falling from the sky, Hell manifested on earth, engulfing all.

After over forty long-range cruise missiles introduced themselves, thermobaric bombs and cluster bombs began meticulous plowing, flames turning over the rotten settlement inch by inch, exposing all the vermin in warm Flame Light.

Burning, exploding, collapsing, and perishing.

Like a flock of crows, drones converged into a mass, sweeping over the burning settlements in groups.

Those crimson eyes overlook every detail, staring at any terrified and despairing face, and all those who are still alive — the survivors.

Analyze the situation, lock onto the target, then report to the system.

Consequently, a shrill, inaudible screech rose from the communication system.

Soon, a certain missile trajectory weaving through the sky made a subtle adjustment, completing the change of target and lock-on, descending in an instant.

Just like rain.

Destruction fell like a torrential downpour, covering everything.

When Satria crawled out, dusty and disheveled, from the ruins, his pupils were illuminated by the flame lights descending from the sky, his expression twitching, whether from hysteria or sheer terror, it was hard to tell.

Just like he hoped... Ji Jue had finally arrived, but not in the way he had imagined.

At this moment, every missile descending from the sky could fetch hundreds of millions of Empire coins in the underground markets of Thousand Islands.

Yet now, these luxurious items—even pirates gnash their teeth and stomp their feet just to buy and hide them in the ship's hold, unwilling to expose them—were casually dispersed like candy by Ji Jue, continuously.

Billions in capital bombarded him in this extravagant manner.

Then, engulfed everything he owned in flames!

No probing, no assassination, no desperate struggle after falling into a trap, nor was there a mutual revelation of hidden cards in a life-or-death battle.

There's only 'you die,' then 'you die,' you die, and then you die again.

This is the result.

"How dare he? How dare he!!!"

Satria's eyes were wide open, roaring uncontrollably, howling.

To attack a branch of Desert Market with such force was complete provocation against the entire Desert Market. Is he not afraid of the leader's wrath?!

But then, his heart grew colder.

The rules no longer existed.

When they believed they had understood the leaders' intentions and mysteries, tossing aside the rules in the decision of victory or defeat, all this became unstoppable.

The leaders knew; the leaders did not care.

Above the distant skies, even now, there might be a pair of eyes coldly overlooking, not caring about anything happening here, perhaps even applauding, appreciating, marveling.

So good, so wonderful, you beast-like ones, bite to your heart's content, vie for what you can, exhaust every effort, regardless of consequence, unmindful of cost!

When he was released, alive back to the Iron Hook District, perhaps Seven Cities had already prepared for all of this.

Quietly waiting for him to proudly walk into demise, then deliver extinction.

"Leader, let's go! Let's go!"

Blood-drenched Himawan clutched his sleeve, shouting desperately with all his might: "As long as there's a green mountain, there's no fear of having no firewood, let's go!"

Satria's expression twitched, unable to speak.

Right before his eyes, in the distance, emerged from the flames, safe and sound, the Ruins still laughed wildly, only to be obliterated by missile bombardment.

The fleeing White Deer burned to ashes under the drone shadows.

The Iron Hook District he had managed his entire life, the paradise and hub of countless pirates, now disintegrated under the bombardment of countless missiles.

He was dragged, dazed, by his subordinates onto a speedboat, speeding away with all his might, gradually distancing from the burning settlement.

Even till the end, his eyes continued to stare dead ahead at the distant fiery glow.

Debris collapsed and perished in flames.

Satria roared hoarsely like a beast that had lost its territory, viciously cursing that damned craftsman, with every conceivable word.

Yet, he couldn't change the reality before him.

Pointlessly sitting upon this small speedboat, he contemplated all that he had, now reduced to ashes.

A drone raced overhead, its shriek echoing like a bird's sharp mockery between the sea and sky, not even turning back to glance at them.

The bombardment continued for a full hour, with successive annihilations resounding thrice, flames, and explosions erased everything from the world entirely.

Then, silver rain descended from the sky, dissolving whatever remained into mud and sand.

After the final storm, all traces vanished without a trace.

Iron Hook District was obliterated.

The live broadcast ended here, yet the venue remained lifelessly silent.

Even though the screen was pitch black, within the prolonged silence, no one could make a sound. Rather than fright and terror, they had become utterly numb amidst the prolonged destruction.

Until, in the vast and solitary venue, clear applause sounded.

At the front row of the venue, the president of Seven Cities Trade Association, Ling Shuo, raised his hand slowly, clapped in front of everyone.

Calmly, serenely, utterly rhythmic, he offered his cheers.

As if unintentionally, he glanced back, at which point everyone felt as if struck by lightning, instinctively stood up, and amidst that sparse rhythm, fiercely clapped along.

Striving to be the first!

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