As Ryuk stepped through the portal, the chaos of the battlefield hit him like a physical force.
"Attack!"
"Khwack!?"
The sounds of war filled the air—metal clashing against metal, the guttural grunts of exertion, the sharp cries of pain, and the constant, rhythmic roar of battle.
The sky above the pavilion was thick with energy as warriors slashed, kicked, and cast powerful techniques against each other.
A Celestial Phoenix Order disciple, his robes streaked with blood, parried an attack from an infiltrator dressed in black. His teeth were gritted as he shoved the man back, fire crackling from his palm as he unleashed a flame technique.
"Phoenix Strike!" he roared, sending a wave of blazing energy toward his opponent.
The infiltrator ducked, dodging the attack, and retaliated with a spinning slash that grazed the disciple's arm. Blood sprayed across the stone floor, and the disciple let out a strangled gasp of pain, but he didn't back down.
"Traitor!" the disciple spat, his voice thick with fury and betrayal. "You dare betray the Order?!"
The infiltrator sneered. "The Order? Your Order is dead. You're too blind to see it!"
They clashed again, swords flashing in the dim light, while above them, a group of rogue cultivators battled Celestial Phoenix Order disciples.
One warrior let out a primal scream as he plunged his spear into a disciple's chest, the sickening crunch of bone and flesh lost amidst the chaos.
Another disciple, her face streaked with dirt and blood, slashed at a pair of infiltrators, her sword spinning in wild arcs.
"For the Phoenix!" she screamed, her voice hoarse from the endless fighting. But even as she fought, a comrade turned on her, a blade sinking into her side.
"Aargghhh!?" Her scream of agony echoed, cut off as she collapsed to the ground, eyes wide with disbelief.
Above, lightning crackled through the air, followed by a bone-rattling roar.
Screams filled the air as the battle raged on. Warriors leapt from platform to platform, their bodies propelled by spiritual energy, their weapons leaving streaks of light as they clashed.
The sound of flesh being torn, the clang of steel on steel, and the occasional explosion from techniques reverberated through the pavilion.
The scent of smoke and burning flesh thickened the air, making every breath feel heavy and suffocating.
"Hold the line!" one of the Phoenix disciples screamed, his voice cracking with desperation. His hands trembled as he swung his sword, barely holding off two enemies at once.
"Hahaha," one rogue cultivator let out a mocking laugh, blood dripping from his lips as he blocked the disciple's strike.
"Your line is already broken!" the rogue shouted back, his sword slashing forward in a deadly arc.
The disciple barely dodged, only to find another blade slicing into his thigh. He screamed, collapsing to one knee.
The battlefield was pure chaos. Fighters grunted with effort, roared with fury, or screamed in agony as blood spilled onto the ground and bodies fell. The sounds of swords clashing echoed endlessly, drowning out all other noise.
Esme's brow furrowed slightly as she observed the battlefield below. Her gaze drifted across the chaos with a calm that contrasted sharply with the violence surrounding her.
Swords, spears, and halberds shook in their wielders' hands, vibrating as though alive.
The warriors' grips faltered. One blade slipped free, then another, until the air was filled with the sound of weapons being wrenched from their masters.
"It's—moving on its own!" one disciple cried out, his voice tinged with panic as he struggled in vain to hold onto his sword.
Another cultivator shouted in frustration, "I can't control it!" His blade jerked free and spiraled into the sky like a shard of silver.
Then came the sound, a sharp, rising whistle. Hundreds of weapons—blades, spears, and staves—shot through the air, converging on a single point.
The warriors stopped fighting, their eyes wide in shock as they watched their weapons fly toward a direction.
A man in a black mask stood wearing foreign clothes rather than those of the Jade Dominion.
Ryuk stood unmoved as the storm of blades gathered behind him, hovering in perfect formation.
Each weapon gleamed in the dim lantern light of the pavilion, their sharp edges creating a deadly halo around him.
The battlefield, once filled with the sounds of combat, now fell into a stunned silence.
Every eye turned toward him, the spectacle rendering even the most hardened warriors speechless.
Yao Lian's lips parted, her gaze fixed on the weapons swirling behind Ryuk, her eyes trembling as a dead feeling slowly started to fill her mind as she began to collect all the pieces, realizing what he had just done was something impossible.
"S-sword... Qi Control?!"
A scarred cultivator near the edge of the pavilion stared at Ryuk, his voice barely a whisper. "How is he... controlling all of them!!"
All of them, hundreds of cultivators, were looking toward midair as all their weapons were shrouded in an orange aura hovering over the place, their sharp edges turning toward them, seemingly out of control, as if choosing that man in the black mask with golden eyes as their owner.
Ryuk, however, remained expressionless.
Before a mechanical voice displayed the upcoming intentions.
[Locking the targets....]
[10....34....60....178....407....897...]
[Total target locks 897]
One after another, several notifications started to revert inside Ryuk's mind as he remained calm. His hands stretched while covered in a dense orange aura.
His eyes slightly tilted as the enormous amount of ether, combined with the brain capacity of the system, had turned handheld metal weapons into weapons similar to arrows, missiles, or whatever one could call them.
'Kill them,' Ryuk commanded without a single hesitation.
[As you command Boss, here go super fast express deliveries ┏(^0^)┛]
SWISH SWISH
In an instant, hundreds of weapons shot forth like bullets all at once, streaking through the air with deadly precision, leaving trails of glinting steel aura in their wake as they converged on their targets.