System S.E.X. (Seduction, Expansion, eXecution)

Chapter 729: Chapter 729: The Dissolving Sky

"Wow, I honestly thought it would breathe green fire," Ethan said, watching the dense cloud blanket the valley.

But before the words could fully leave his mouth, a horrific sizzling sound echoed across the terrain. Everything the dark fog touched began to liquefy instantly. It wasn’t fire; it was a devastating, ultra-concentrated acid breath. The armored Invictus-class warships were reduced to bubbling pools of molten slag within moments. Even the flagship of the Impenetrable-class barely managed to hold its structural integrity together, its defensive arrays flickering violently only because it hadn’t taken a direct hit from the core of the blast. With just a single breath, dozens of prideful military vessels had been reduced to absolutely nothing.

Witnessing such catastrophic devastation, the three Great Ancestors and Gusher, the prince’s envoy, turned their fury directly toward the patriarch of the Heavenly Sword Pavilion, cursing his ancestors back generations.

"You absolute old lunatic!" the Great Ancestor of the Thunder Dragon Sect roared, desperately channeling his spiritual energy to shield his remaining elders from the corroding air. "You swore your initial exploration was highly successful! You said you entered and exited the upper tiers entirely at your own whim without encountering any irreversible crises! And now look at this! We are being systematically annihilated by an ancient nightmare!"

"Our sects are completely ruined!" the Evergreen patriarch screamed, his voice filled with pure despair as he watched his elite disciples dissolve into black sludge. With the current staggering casualty rate, their factions were no longer just facing a heavy defeat—they were staring directly into the abyss of absolute, permanent extinction.

The Great Ancestor of the Heavenly Sword Pavilion felt deeply offended and attacked by their accusations, but as he looked around at the dissolving fleet, he knew he could only swallow his pride. The destruction unfolding before them was entirely the fault of his own reckless, superficial explorations. They had blindly walked straight into the trap of an apex predator far beyond their comprehension.

"We cannot stay on the defensive! We must slaughter that thing together!" shouted the Great Ancestor of the Black Mountain Sect.

"I refuse to believe I cannot cut you down, you overgrown lizard!" shouted the Great Ancestor of the Heavenly Sword Pavilion.

With a burst of supreme spiritual pressure, the old man shot into the sky like a streak of pure starlight, aiming directly for the colossal beast. He raised his ancestral blade, channeling the full, absolute power of his fused Sword Heart.

"Crane Ultimate Slash!" shouted the Great Ancestor.

A massive, ethereal phantom of a divine crane materialized behind his back, its brilliant white wings expanding across the clouds. The avatar lunged forward in perfect unison with his blade, executing a flawless, sky-rending strike that sliced cleanly through the center of the colossal Bone Dragon. The two massive halves of the skeletal beast separated and crashed heavily into the acid-soaked mud below.

Up in the air, the patriarchs let out sighs of relief, a collective wave of arrogant celebration washing over them as they looked down at the fallen beast. "Hmph! Nothing more than a fragile pile of old bones!" mocked the Thunder Dragon patriarch.

However, the Bone Dragon began to rise once more. Its hollow sockets burned with green spectral fire as the divided fragments reassembled as if nothing had happened. Yet, inflated by their brief display of force, the sect leaders still refused to take it seriously.

"Old Man of the Sword, I will hold it down! Find a way to destroy it completely!" said the Great Ancestor of the Black Mountain Sect.

The old man charged forward, deploying a golden defensive domain that collided directly against the dragon’s massive claw.

Seeing the humans treating his creation like a mere annoyance, the Lich’s clone grit his bony teeth, deeply irritated at being ignored. With a swift motion, he ascended through the air, positioning himself directly above the head of the Bone Dragon.

"Imbeciles! I will show you how a true lord of the undead fights!" said the Lich.

The massive Grimoire floating beside him began to spin violently until it locked onto a page filled with crimson and black runes. The Lich extended his withered hand and began his chants.

"Heaviness in the flesh, shackles upon the soul, let time itself become your tomb..."

"Curse of Slowness!" shouted the Lich.

A halo of violet light descended upon the Great Ancestor of the Black Mountain Sect. Instantly, his movements turned agonizingly heavy, as if he were trying to swim through dense mercury; his reaction speed was cut in half.

Without giving him a single breath to recover, the Grimoire flipped to the next page.

"Corroding malice, rotting drop, let pure blood turn to foul poison..."

"Curse of Poison!" shouted the Lich.

A bolt of sickly green energy struck the old man’s chest. Despite his defensive barriers, a withered darkness began spreading through his veins, devouring his spiritual energy from within and forcing him to cough up mouthfuls of black blood.

The Grimoire spun furiously once more.

"A thousand needles in the mind, a thousand flames in the nerves, let torment sever all thought..."

"Curse of Pain!" shouted the Lich.

The Great Ancestor let out a harrowing scream. There was no visible physical wound, but the spell attacked his nervous system and consciousness directly, inflicting the excruciating agony of being burned alive from the inside out.

"Shadows in the abyss, vision of death, let courage shatter into a thousand pieces..."

"Curse of Fear!" shouted the Lich.

A dark pulse pierced the old man’s heart. An irrational wave of absolute panic overwhelmed him, causing him to lose concentration on his defensive domain and forcing him to retreat in terror before the mere presence of the dragon.

Finally, the Lich raised both hands toward the heavens as the Grimoire flared with an ashen light.

"Mantle of the fallen, breath of hell, obscure their sight and consume their guide..."

"Cursed Mist!" shouted the Lich.

A thick, heavy cloud of dark grey fog erupted from the earth, spreading across the entire battlefield in seconds. The mist did not merely block physical vision—it completely neutralized spiritual perception, leaving the combined armies and the Great Ancestors utterly disoriented, trapped blind in the middle of the domain of death.

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