Volume 3: Global Vanguard & The Advanced Pinnacle
Chapter 222
Underworld Church Uprising, Blood Sea Demon Capital
“Howl... roar... screech...!”
The shrill wail of magical air-raid sirens suddenly shattered the festive atmosphere of Venice.
It was not the golden signal for a storm, nor the emerald whistle welcoming high-level state delegations. It was the piercing, bone-chilling sound of the “Blood Alert”—the highest-level apocalyptic disaster alarm under the regulations of the International Magic League!
At the Ocean Arena, the cheers of victory had only just subsided. The one hundred and twenty thousand spectators in the stands were still passionately discussing Lin Feng and Team China’s earth-shattering comeback. The celebratory banners had not yet been lowered, and the celebratory wine glasses had not yet been drained, when a layer of blood-red mist as thin as watery gore rolled in from the open sea, devouring the entire Adriatic Gulf.
“What is happening?”
“Look out at the sea! Good god, the water... the water has turned the color of blood!”
The initial murmurs quickly escalated into frantic screams of terror.
Looking out from the basalt stone ramparts of the arena, the once-calm sea now boiled like a gigantic cauldron placed over a blazing fire. Dark red bubbles surged and popped, carrying the foul stench of rotting corpses and a suffocating reek of sulfur.
The Mediterranean sky was suddenly weighed down by a layer of dense black clouds tinged with bloody edges. The sunset vanished, yielding to an eerie, sanguine light cast evenly over ancient tiled roofs, stone-arched bridges, and thousands of winding canals.
“CRACK... SNAP... SHATTER!”
A series of earth-shaking sounds erupted from the four corners of Venice.
The four magical lighthouses guarding the four corners of the bay—which maintained the “God of the Sea’s Holy Shield,” the Forbidden Curse-grade defensive barrier protecting the city—exploded simultaneously!
Pure sapphire pillars of light were suddenly corroded by streams of dark black liquid shooting up from the depths of the earth. The barrier runes across the dome twisted in agony, emitting a groaning sound like metal being bent to its breaking point, before shattering into millions of crystal fragments that rained down onto the sea surface.
The most impregnable defensive barrier in Europe had officially collapsed!
“Traitors! There are traitors in the Supreme Guard Corps!”
In the VIP honor stands, the Governor of Venice sprang to his feet, his face drained of all color:
“The four subterranean lighthouses are protected by three layers of isolation matrices; outsiders can never touch them! Unless the garrison officers have sold their souls to the demons!”
Before the Governor’s words could fade, a guard captain in silver armor stumbled through the main gates of the arena. The soldier’s entire body was caked in fresh blood, his left arm cleanly severed, and the wound smoking with thick black vapor:
“Report... Reporting to the Governor! The Underworld Church... They have ambushed the entire city! Rialto Bridge, St. Mark’s Square... All have been occupied! They’ve begun the massacre!”
“Splat!”
A pitch-black, sharp bone spike suddenly pierced straight through the guard captain’s chest from behind.
The spike spun ruthlessly, crushing the soldier’s heart into a bloody pulp. The guard’s body collapsed, revealing behind him a man dressed in a Venetian security guard’s uniform. However, the man’s eyes had turned a crazed, fanatical blood-red, his mouth split wide to reveal two rows of sharp, jagged teeth.
The traitorous guard ripped off his iron helmet and threw it to the ground, tearing open his uniform to reveal a dark blue ceremonial robe embroidered with a howling demonic skeleton on the chest.
“All hail the Underworld Savior! The Blood Sea descends, all things return to dust!”
The Blue-Robe Deacon shrieked in an ancient, slimy dialect.
In response to that roar, from every street and winding alley, from deep sewers and the profound canals of Venice, hundreds of figures clad in dark blue and black ceremonial robes simultaneously tore away their disguises.
Over three hundred Blue-Robe Deacons and Black-Robe Cultists of the Underworld Church!
For the past half year, they had used demonic potions to alter their auras, blending in among laborers, sailors, patrol guards, and even Gondoliers. They had patiently waited for the exact moment when the attention of the entire magical world was focused on the summit tournament to deliver a fatal strike!
“HOWL... OOH... OOH...!”
Savage cries simultaneously erupted from the earth and the water surface.
Each Blue-Robe Deacon raised high a skull-topped staff dripping with blood, chanting eerie evil incantations. The marble ground shook violently, splitting into tens of thousands of deep ravines. From beneath the cracks, gray, skeletal hands reached up, clawing tightly at the stone edges.
Thousands of fiendish beasts—”Nether Demonic Ghouls”—crawled up from the underworld!
Standing over two meters tall, their emaciated bodies were encased in pitch-black bone armor as hard as cold steel. Their flat faces lacked eyes and noses, featuring only gaping mouths filled with jagged teeth dripping with greenish, murky venom.
At the same time, beneath the winding canals, the rising sea water surged with schools of man-eating amphibious monsters—Blood-Winged Sand Demons and Water-Winding Corpse Ghouls. They vaulted onto the granite stone steps, charging straight into the crowds of fleeing tourists!
“Ah... Ah...! Save me! Dear God, save my child!”
“Monsters! Run! Run toward the Arena!”
Opulent Venice was transformed into a bloody slaughterhouse in an instant.
At St. Mark’s Square, thousands of international tourists, women, and children panicked, trampling one another in search of an escape route. But all four sides of the square had been tightly surrounded by the Nether Demonic Ghouls.
Pitch-black claws swung through the air, accompanied by the horrifying sound of tearing flesh. Fresh blood splashed across pristine white marble angel statues, streaming down drainage ditches and merging directly into the canals, turning the entire canal system into rivers of deep crimson.
The Blue-Robe Deacons waved their hands, launching blood-red, barbed magical chains—”Blood Demonic Shackles.” Each chain whistled through the air, hooking straight into the shoulders and ankles of thousands of survivors, gathering them into clusters like strings of raw meat.
Children wept until their throats were hoarse beside the bodies of their parents. Mothers desperately using their bodies to shield their little ones had their limbs severed without the slightest mercy by the evil blades of the Black-Robe Cultists.
“Sacrifice! Offer the blood of the virgins to the Divine Array!”
A scar-faced Blue-Robe Deacon laughed maniacally, violently jerking his chains to drag hundreds of women and children toward the canal bank:
“Scream! Weep! Your blood and despair are the finest catalysts to awaken the Ancient Blood Sacrifice Array!”
Deep beneath the Adriatic Gulf, a gigantic dark red light matrix with a diameter of over ten kilometers was gradually taking shape on the deep seabed. Vitality and blood energy from the thousands of victims chained on the shore were drained away by an invisible suction force, turning into ribbons of blood floating low over the water before sinking deep into the center of the array.
With every person who fell, the red light beneath the sea flared brighter, kicking up tidal waves several meters high that crashed directly into ancient buildings, shattering opulent balconies that had stood for centuries.
“Damn it! Where is the City Guard Corps?! Immediately counterattack! Slaughter these evil cultists for me!”
In the VIP stands of the Ocean Arena, an Italian military general roared, his hand slamming heavily onto the metal railing, warping and deforming it.
Hundres of military mages and inquisitors began condensing magic. Earth and Fire Element Star Palaces lit up across the stands.
However, just as the mages were preparing to launch their attack, an aura of utter black darkness suddenly descended straight down from the nine heavens!
“BOOM—RUMBLE!”
The space above the Ocean Arena caved in!
The sanguine sky twisted like a tattered rag. A thick cloud of blood churned violently atop St. Mark’s Bell Tower—a nearly hundred-meter-tall structure standing proudly beside the square.
Amidst that blood cloud, a figure slowly descended, hovering in midair directly above the bell tower.
The figure wore a grand robe the color of congealed blood. Tens of meters of cloak flapped wildly in the sea wind, radiating black smoke that blotted out a corner of the sky. His face was gaunt and hollow, his deep eye sockets burning with dark crimson ghost-fire.
In his right hand, he grasped a staff made from the spine of an ancient behemoth, topped with a black crystal human skull that emitted the mournful wailing of ten thousand souls.
The aura of a PEAK ADVANCED MAGE!
Even... this dark demonic energy faintly touched the threshold of the Super Level, radiating an awe-inspiring pressure that made the air within a radius of five kilometers feel as though it had condensed into liquid lead!
“Malakor! It’s Malakor!”
A high-ranking inquisitor of the International Tribunal turned pale, his voice trembling as it forced its way through clenched teeth:
“Cardinal Malakor... Leader of the European branch of the Underworld Church! The most wanted criminal in history with a bounty of thirty billion magic crystals! He... why has he personally appeared in Venice?!”
Malakor!
The mere utterance of that name made every state leader, noble, and mage in the stands turn cold to the bone. He was the monster who had slaughtered an entire town of thirty thousand people in Eastern Europe ten years ago to refine evil artifacts, the criminal against whom the Tribunal had organized dozens of large-scale encirclements, yet every time he had escaped!
Standing tall atop St. Mark’s Bell Tower, Malakor lowered his head, overlooking the panoramic view of Venice sinking into a sea of fire and crimson blood.
The corners of his dry lips curled into an utterly bone-chilling, vicious smile. He raised his demonic bone staff, pointing straight at the Ocean Arena, his hoarse voice echoing across every corner of the city:
“O you insects who call yourselves the elite of the magical world!”
“You indulge in false prosperity, reveling in useless tournaments, forgetting that this world inherently belongs to darkness and destruction!”
“For the past half year, you let us comfortably drive every single blood sacrifice stake into the foundation stones of this city without a single inkling! Today, all of Venice will become a sacrifice to complete the ‘Blood Sea Demon Capital’! Your souls shall be food for the awakening Sea Demon God!”
Malakor threw his head back and laughed maniacally. The laughter of a Peak Advanced Mage carried magical sonic waves that caused the canal water to splash wildly.
Tens of thousands of spectators in the stands clutched their heads and collapsed to the floor, their eardrums oozing fresh blood. Many elderly people and children fainted on the spot, unable to withstand the terrifying mental pressure from the fiend’s voice!
“Hurry! Shatter space, escort the state leaders in retreat!”
The guard captains of the international delegations frantically shouted.
Yet all efforts were in vain. The entire space surrounding Venice had been completely sealed off by an invisible blood-colored barrier. Spatial-element mages from Team USA and Germany who attempted to condense Star Orbs were instantly struck back by a powerful backlash, coughing up mouthfuls of fresh blood.
The Ancient Blood Sacrifice Array barrier had activated, warping and plunging all spatial coordinates within the Venetian Gulf into chaos! Teleportation and spatial transmission magic were completely sealed off!
National armies were fragmented into tiny pieces within the intricate alleyways, losing all command communication. International teams—the proud young geniuses who had dominated the arena mere hours ago—now huddled in small groups behind their head coaches, their eyes filled with panic and terror.
Along all roads leading to the Ocean Arena, the thundering footsteps of hordes of Nether Demonic Ghouls grew closer. Over twenty Blue-Robe Deacons dragged a group of over three hundred women and children hostages, killing as they walked to scatter fresh blood along the stone bridge leading straight to the arena gates.
A young woman in a tattered white dress, clutching her five-year-old daughter tightly to her chest, stumbled and collapsed right at the foot of the bridge. The little child cried out in terror, her tiny hands grasping desperately at her mother’s hem.
The leading Blue-Robe Deacon stepped forward. He wore a sickening smile, his long, crimson tongue sliding across the edge of a dripping, pitch-black magical blade:
“Cry all you want, little girl. The blood of an innocent child will make the Altar even purer!”
He raised his blade high, aiming straight at the child’s head and bringing it down without a shred of hesitation!
The blade whistled piercingly through the air. The desperate young mother closed her eyes tightly, using her entire back to shield against the fatal strike. The child snuggled closely into her mother’s embrace, her cries choking off in her throat...
On the ramparts of the Ocean Arena, mages from various nations witnessed the scene, but none dared step forward. The distance was too great, the evil beasts surrounded them too densely, and overhead loomed the soul-crushing aura of Cardinal Malakor!
Despair engulfed the entirety of Venice. Humanity seemed to have reached its wits’ end before the grim reaper’s scythe!
Yet...
At the exact moment when the dark blade was less than a hand’s breadth from the mother’s back, a chilling sound of wind-tearing abruptly exploded in midair!
“WHOOSH... CLANG!”
Space at the location of the mother and child suddenly warped by ninety degrees!
A wall of silver-white, crystal-clear light suddenly appeared out of thin air, blocking right between the blade and the mother!
“CLANG!!!”
The sound of metal striking the spatial barrier rang out sharply, sparks flying in all directions. The Blue-Robe Deacon’s magical blade struck as if hitting a millenia-old diamond mountain; the immense recoil violently jerked his arm upward, causing his shoulder joint to snap with a painful pop!
“What?!”
The Blue-Robe Deacon staggered back three steps, his blood-red eyes widening in astonishment:
“Spatial Wall?! Who dares obstruct the Underworld Church?!”
Atop the ramparts of the Ocean Arena, a ferocious gale whipped up a blinding cloud of stone dust.
A young figure, steady as a spear planted between heaven and earth, slowly stepped out to the edge of the rampart.
Team China’s combat jacket flapped violently in the blood-scented sea wind. His black hair swayed slightly, revealing an angular face as cold as Arctic ice. His eyes were as deep as endless darkness, yet deep within his pupils, purplish-black lightning surged and roared, blending with a ferocious, fiery red blaze as if itching to incinerate heaven and earth!
Lin Feng!
Behind him, Han Yue’s eyes were covered in cold frost, Ye Lingtian’s hands glittered with silver spatial light, Ye Qingwan held a sparkling azure wind-feather, and Xie Zhaoyuan bore a radiant light shield... The entire Chinese lineup advanced in unison, standing shoulder-to-shoulder beside their captain!
They did not retreat half a step. Not a trace of panic flickered across the faces of those young people; only a seething fire of fury and monstrous killing intent ready to erupt!
Against Lin Feng’s chest, the Primordial Dragon Jade pressed against his skin, vibrating intensely.
It did not tremble from fear, but rather roared with the bloodthirsty thirst of an ancient dragon that had caught the scent of thousands of evil remnant souls! Hot energy from the Dragon Jade surged directly into his meridians, connecting straight to the vast Lightning and Fire Star Oceans that had just broken through within his spiritual sea!
Lin Feng lowered his gaze down to the lone Blue-Robe Deacon at the foot of the bridge, then slowly raised his eyes to look straight up at the top of St. Mark’s Bell Tower—where Cardinal Malakor hovered arrogantly.
The corners of Lin Feng’s lips curled upward into an arc as sharp as a newly tempered blade:
“Turn Venice into a Blood Sea Demon Capital, you say?”
Lin Feng’s voice did not shriek madly, but every single word transmitted like thunder straight through space, echoing thunderously in the ears of the one hundred and twenty thousand desperate souls:
“A bunch of rats crawling in sewers, and you dare call yourselves Saviors in front of me?”
“Have you even asked the Lightning of China?!”
“BOOM!”
Beneath Lin Feng’s feet, the basalt stone of the rampart shattered into a hundred pieces!
A purplish-black ray of light carrying the destructive might of the Advanced Star Palace erupted like a volcanic eruption, tearing apart the sea of blood mist across the Venetian sky! His figure transformed into a bolt of lightning, tearing through the wind as he charged straight down toward the battlefield, opening the curtain for an earth-shattering bloodbath!