blogombal Page 623
Page 623
He can "sense" it.
Deep beneath our feet lie ancient spiritual veins, crisscrossing like the blood vessels of the city.
It is being forcibly guided, regulated, and even suppressed by more precise and domineering rituals, which are confining the violent energy that is capable of tearing apart the continental shelf within a controllable range and transforming it into energy to support the operation of this massive barrier.
The clock tower's design.
Moreover, it was a contingency plan that was prepared in advance with all our might, regardless of the cost!
They clearly foresaw the potential cataclysmic impact of Albion's awakening, and they targeted London—
The heart of this clock tower headquarters—serving as the last bastion that must be defended at all costs.
Countless precious magical materials were consumed, and countless high-level barrier masters and ley line manipulators worked day and night to create a relatively stable "dome" for the city in the instant disaster struck.
The most violent energy turbulence and law distortion were forcibly isolated, minimizing the possibility of a devastating physical collapse and slowing down the impact of the mysterious leak on the city's mortal understanding.
This is a remarkable feat combining engineering and mysticism.
However, in Matouike's eyes, this vast network of barriers enveloping London was more like a fragile eggshell teetering on the brink of collapse amidst towering waves.
It temporarily maintained internal order, but could not change the world outside, which had already undergone a complete upheaval.
Beyond that invisible energy barrier lay countless cities reduced to purgatory, the wailing of the complete collapse of the old order, and the prelude to the Dark Forest Law taking effect.
London's tranquility was achieved at the cost of countless "external" sacrifices, built with astronomical amounts of resources, and is... only temporary.
But outside London—the heart of the storm that was ignited by Albion's awakening, divine sacrifice, and the tacit approval of the Forensic Science Department, tearing the mystery apart and exposing it to the sunlight.
For this ancient planet that has experienced countless geological upheavals, species extinctions, and cycles of civilization, that collapse may only be considered a disaster that cannot be called a catastrophe.
The decay of cities, the panic of civilization, the collapse of order...
These upheavals, which are enough to overturn eras in the eyes of humans, are merely a slightly violent "geological activity" or a "fine-tuning" of a local ecosystem when placed on the long timescale of the planet.
The planet itself silently bears the weight, its foundation remaining stable.
Even the phenomenon of a sudden surge in mystery leading to a significant increase in magical energy concentration worldwide is not the most deadly crisis at present.
While an increase in magic concentration will certainly give rise to more unpredictable mutations and accelerate the proliferation of anomalies and monsters, it is more like a slow-acting poison, an environmental upheaval that requires time to ferment.
It truly grows and spreads like cancer cells beneath the ruins, in the shadow of panic, and in the global power vacuum, and is about to tear the world apart in the bloodiest way—
Two completely different, yet equally deadly forces are colliding head-on with unprecedented scale and intensity, after losing the fragile buffer of "concealment"!
Magician's War vs. Modern Warfare!
This is no longer an assassination and ritual duel in the shadows of the underworld, nor a limited conflict dominated by state apparatuses and based on geopolitics and conventional weapons.
These are two completely different "power systems," two irreconcilable "logics of existence," and two "civilization paradigms" vying for dominance over the future of the planet. On the mysteriously revealed chaotic stage, they are forced to engage in a life-or-death all-out war!
Having shed the shackles of "concealment," those beings who wield power beyond the mortal realm—
The clock tower's monarchs and factions, local magical families with inherited traditions, the twenty-seven Dead Apostles who have lain dormant for millennia, ancient beings awakened or mutated by the tides of magic, and even individuals who gained power amidst the chaos—
They will have no more scruples! What they are fighting for is no longer just spiritual veins, secret scriptures, or political discourse, but living space, resource hegemony, and the right to define the rules of the new world!
The summoned familiars will no longer be spirits, but calamities walking in the sunlight!
Wide-ranging curses, spatial distortions, conceptual rewriting, and even the violent extraction of ley lines... these forbidden techniques that once had to be hidden will become commonplace on the battlefield!
The intensity and destructive power of war will soar exponentially, and it will be common for innocent people to be affected. Destroying cities and even changing the terrain is not impossible!
Faced with a sudden and revolutionary "reality" that overturns all scientific understanding, those forces that control the vast state apparatus and destructive weapons of the human world will inevitably react with extreme and costless militarization after the initial panic and chaos!
They will target those manifest "mysterious beings".
Regardless of whether they are magicians, dead apostles, fairies, or monsters, they are all considered national security threats that must be "purified"!
The fighter jets will roar over the spiritual vein node, which was once a no-fly zone, dropping incendiary bombs and bunker-buster bombs.
The missile's exhaust plume will pierce the night sky, locking onto ancient castles or secret realms where abnormal energy reactions have been detected; tank formations will crush the land that was once a magic workshop under the banner of "purifying heretics."
Intelligence agencies will frantically hunt down any individual suspected of possessing "supernatural powers"...
The destructive power of modern technology may not be able to effectively combat the mysterious in terms of precision, but its saturation attack with its coverage is enough to turn any exposed target and its surrounding area into scorched earth!
What's even more terrifying is that these two torrents are by no means clearly distinct!
They will intertwine, permeate, and twist wildly!
National powers may attempt to co-opt or control local magician organizations as "special weapons," while the latter may utilize the former's vast resources and manpower to wage their own wars.
As the military confronts powerful, manifested alien beings, the collateral damage from their weapons of mass destruction further exacerbates the chaos on the mystical side.
Some mad magicians or outcasts may even actively infiltrate, manipulate, or even subvert the state apparatus, turning the ultimate deterrent, such as nuclear arsenals or biological weapons, into tools to achieve their own ambitions!
The "conquest" power that Hartres instilled in Albion spread like an invisible plague around the world, frantically catalyzing the ambition, aggression, and distrust of all participants, making any negotiations and ceasefires extremely fragile, and pushing every conflict into an abyss of no return!
The collapse was just the beginning.
The stage is set for mysterious global leaks.
At this moment, on every inch of this stage, amidst the embers of panic and the vacuum of power, the two out-of-control primordial beasts, Magician's War and Modern Warfare, have broken free of their final restraints, roaring and baring their fangs and claws.
Their clash will no longer be a local conflict, but a total war that will sweep across every corner of the globe and completely crush all the order and morality of the old era!
The planet may be safe.
But human civilization itself, and all the forms of existence that depend on it, are being dragged into an unprecedented dark purgatory, forged from steel, fire, incantations and blood.
This "hidden underground current" has erupted into a sea of lava that has engulfed the world.
Matouchi's footsteps echoed through the empty streets.
He had just left a conversation with El-Melloi II filled with heavy realities and absurd conspiracies, and his thoughts, like a sophisticated but overloaded instrument, were still repeatedly processing those fragments of information.
The soles of the shoes rubbed against the scattered pebbles and dust, making a subtle yet clear sound that seemed particularly abrupt in the unusual silence.
The air was filled with lingering smoke and dust, a faint smell of sulfur, and a deeper, indescribable residual energy stemming from the earth's ley lines.
The streetlights, symbols of civilization and order, still stand along the streets, but their light appears so weak and unstable.
Clearly, the power grids that keep them running were damaged in the previous violent earthquake.
A dim, yellowish light seeped intermittently from the lampshade, flickering and fading like the gasps of a dying man. Each brief flash of light barely tore through a small patch of thick darkness, illuminating the cracked pavement beneath our feet and the jagged outlines of the buildings beside us.
Each abrupt extinguishing instantly engulfs everything again, leaving only a deeper shadow that seems capable of devouring the soul.
The flickering light reflected ever-changing spots in Matouchi's deep, azure eyes.
When the light came on, you could see the deep thought in his eyes, like an undercurrent surging beneath the ice.
When the light went out, his face disappeared into the darkness, leaving only a blurry and dangerous silhouette, as if blending into the surrounding ruins and night, exuding an inhuman, predatory silence.
Matouchi's footsteps stopped in the complete darkness.
It wasn't out of fear, but rather a deeper, more instinctive alertness—like a sophisticated radar detecting a powerful signal source strong enough to distort background radiation.
Even in absolute darkness, his magical eyes could still discern the outlines of ruins and the flow of energy. Yet at this moment, his gaze was involuntarily drawn to the pure, almost frozen darkness ahead.
Because in the center of that night, which seemed capable of swallowing everything—
A figure is slowly appearing.
She didn't "come into view"; rather, she seemed to emerge from the shadows of the ruins and the pervasive energy dust.
There were no footsteps, no rustling of clothes, and even the air around her seemed to become thick and slow.
Her very existence was like a piece of ice at absolute zero, thrown into a stagnant pool, instantly freezing all the surrounding noise and chaos.
The figure wasn't tall, but it exuded an indescribable, overwhelming presence.
It was as if the small area where she stood was the absolute center of the entire Honkai world, and even space itself was slightly distorted and bowed down because of her presence.
Matouchi's pupils suddenly contracted to the size of pinpoints in the darkness.
His brain, like an overclocked processor, instantly retrieved all the fragments of information about the highest authority in the Clock Tower: that iconic, moon-like silver hair.
That aura of "authority" needs no fancy attire, but is defined solely by its very existence;
And that cold and absolute mark of "king" that is deeply rooted in their blood, engraved in history, and belongs to the Barthelo family!
The information was matched and confirmed instantly.
The conclusion, like a cold stamp, was etched into the core of his understanding.
Barthelo Loreleia.
He had never met this legendary Demon Marshal.
But at this moment, on the ruins of London where she herself tore apart the veil of mystery and ignited the flames of global war, in this deathly darkness, her very appearance is a powerful declaration that needs no words.
The dim streetlights had long since gone out.
That gaze pierced precisely through the darkness and landed on Matou Ike.
There was no surprise, no scrutiny, only a sense of self-assurance.
The air seemed to freeze.
The dust from the ruins seemed to have stopped falling.
The entire world was left with only that figure radiating cold moonlight in the darkness, and Matou Ike's demonic eyes burning with a deep blue light in the shadows.
A silent standoff unfolds in absolute stillness.
Chapter 652 Communication (4k)
The figure radiating a cold moonlight in the darkness of the ruins did not bring the expected destructive pressure or questioning.
on the contrary--
"This is the first time we meet, please take care of me."
A voice sounded.
Moderate and peaceful.
It even carries a hint of ineffable, almost stereotypical politeness.
It pierced the frozen air clearly, breaking the silent standoff, appearing so... out of place on this desolate ruin.
A strange look flashed across Matou Ike's demonic eyes, which burned with a deep blue light in the shadows. It was not fear or tension, but an almost absurd astonishment at the shock of such a huge gap between expectations and reality.
His gaze involuntarily focused on the prop in her hand, a prop that stood in stark contrast to her identity and the circumstances—