Don't confiscate my identity as a human race-Chapter 1228 - 805: Hyperion’s Melogas Form

The capital of the Cerryti Empire, Brilda, is nestled beneath the towering Ostro Highlands, surrounded by lush verdant pine forests, with the undulating city center dominated by a magnificent cream-colored building that resembles a temple.

Imperial Military Staff and Imperial Military Headquarters.

As the supreme command of the Imperial Army, it is responsible for formulating the overall military strategy of the entire empire, allocating and coordinating the operations of the different branches of the armies.

From the long borderlines to the vast heartlands, the security of every inch of territory is strategized from here.

At the heart of this majestic building lies the core.

Divine Descendant Hall.

It is akin to an underground theater, with twelve imposing arches encircling it, and a dome inlaid with a mural made of countless luminous immortal crystals, dazzling and illuminating the dark marble floor beneath into a central starry river.

This is the exclusive meeting place for the Twelve Gods of the Empire and the most unpredictable forbidden area of the Cerryti Empire.

Outside wartime, even those with Ninth-order strength are utterly incapable of breaking the defense line guarded by half of the Gods of the Empire.

However, most of the Gods of the Empire are currently on the battlefield; even Violet, the Sixth Army God of the Aqua Jade Throne who was stationed in the capital, has gone to explore Lake Stabergen in the neighboring Botswana Province, leaving the Divine Descendant Hall much more desolate than usual.

Often, only Hesintos, the First Army God stationed in the capital, remains here.

At this moment, the Divine Descendant Hall of headquarters is utterly empty.

Beneath the transparent glass surface in the center of the round table lies the restricted area of the Divine Descendant Hall.

At the heart of the earth, a black hedron flashing an eerie red light is bound by chains upon a stone platform, surrounded by shimmering Anti-Magic Steel Columns.

The six sides of the hedron are covered with Ancient Curse Marks, and the chains entwined around it are alive, coiling like snakes and scorpions, emitting an evil aura.

No one has noticed that within this hedron mirror, in the endless space of the Phantom Realm—

...

In the exiled void world, all colors between heaven and earth are stripped away, leaving nothing but endless gray desolation, lifeless, with scorched ruins and skeletons everywhere.

The black desert trembles occasionally as if something is stirring underground.

The cold wind howls, picking up the black sand from the ground, mixed with threads of bloodiness.

In this silent void, a figure gradually emerges.

"Fifty-five days..."

He is shrouded in a black robe, almost blending into the dim surroundings.

His handsome and profound features are full of alertness, his brown hair fluttering in the wind, his eyes devoid of any intention to give up.

At this moment, he has lost his usual grace and is replaced by a figure covered in wounds.

His weary and weathered face, with an uncharacteristic stubble, adds a bit of worldly smoke and fire to his usual gentleness.

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Loren has been struggling in this nightmarish world for dozens of days.

After being sealed by Chained Agate Gaiat, the Third Army God, he ended up inside the world of the Phantom Realm, never to find an exit.

This world is not a comfortable void but a desperate situation that constantly seeks to put him to death.

Black mist pours toward Loren from the horizon, with a black cloud pressing overhead, accompanied by an ear-piercing vibration, and the whole world trembles without cease.

That is no mere mist, but a horde of void creatures covering the skies.

Boom!!!

The ground suddenly shakes violently in front of Loren, grey-black dust explodes into the air, carrying volcanic ash, and a fissure snakes from the depths of the wasteland, winding its way forward, over a dozen meters wide.

Serpentine colossal void creatures scramble out of the fissure, leading a pack of Void Beasts. They resemble worms, beasts, and Ghouls, with ugly forms, a foul stench, and an aura of malice all over, as if hell's detritus was dropped into the world of men.

At this moment, a thunderous bolt of lightning streaks through the originally lifeless void.

Loren clasps his hands together, and a violent whirlwind of energy instantly gathers in his palms, forming a silver vortex.

The next second, the vortex explodes violently, turning into a hurricane that howls towards the vast army of void creatures.

Countless Wind Blades appear within the hurricane, sharp as knives, shearing the void creatures into many pieces and severing the great serpent into segments, with black blood splattering everywhere.

"The one thousand five hundred and sixty-second beast tide."

Loren silently recounts, his breath weary but he dares not relax.

The currents of air swirling around him flicker with cold lightning; the power of wind and thunder roars and spirals beside him.

Every time he raises his hand, lightning gathers, then bursts forth with devastating force, exploding in the air with a thunderous noise, leaving no void creatures unscathed.

At first, faced with the fierce and terrifying onslaught of void creatures, he too had teetered on the brink of doom several times.

But with the incessant brutal slaughter and desperate struggles, he gradually mastered the rules of survival in this Phantom Realm.

Fighting the void creatures is a battle of survival of the fittest.

With Wind Blades condensing in Loren's hands, a single sweep is enough to shred attacking Void Worms. Lightning falls from the sky, and amidst thunderous roars, Void Behemoths turn to charred remains.

Every battle changes the face of the land.

The earth is sliced into disarray, mountains are shattered by lightning, and wherever the hurricane passes, everything is leveled to the ground.

Gradually, Loren gains composure amidst the slaughter.

This brutal combat has become a constant in his life.

[Behold ▇▇▇▇▇▇, the power beyond extreme ▇▇ limits ▇▇.]