The transport plane jolted at low altitude. Inside the cabin, the Hunters, clad in their Gravity Mecha, gripped their weapons in absolute silence.
The terrifying pressure radiating from Area 47, weighing down on everyone's hearts like a mountain, made their hearts pound with dread.
But that was exactly their destination, the endpoint of their mission.
Suddenly, that soul-trembling pressure vanished without warning.
The entire world instantly became empty and deathly still.
"The... the pressure disappeared?" a young team member's voice trembled, breaking the silence.
Marc snapped his eyes open. He could clearly feel that the suffocating life field unique to a Monarch-class Pola Beast was gone.
It didn't feel like it had weakened or moved away; it felt more like it had been eradicated.
Through the communicator came the rapid, confused breathing of the other team members. Their original suicidal mission target... was gone.
...
Lighthouse, core control room.
"Report! All life signals in Area 47... have disappeared!"
"Monarch-class reaction... disappeared! Beast tide reactions... all disappeared!"
Aboard the Lighthouse, a technician stared at the energy spectrum that had returned to normal, stammering his report as if he had seen a ghost.
In the next instant, the dense swarm of red dots on the screen, which had looked like the descending apocalypse, evaporated into thin air all at once.
The entire control room fell into an eerie silence.
"Satellite signal restored!" another technician suddenly shouted, his voice shrill. "Visuals for Area 47 can be connected!"
Old City Lord Morgan's frail body erupted with a strength uncharacteristic of his age as he gripped his armrest.
"Switch to the main screen immediately!"
The screen flickered, revealing a hellish tableau that would be etched into the memories of everyone in the control room for the rest of their lives.
The earth looked as if it had been repeatedly plowed by some unimaginable, colossal force. Scorched soil and metal fragments were mixed with the corpses of the masses.
The remains of tens of thousands of Pola Beasts blanketed their field of vision, forming a crimson lake of flesh and carapace.
Among them were many massive high-level variants, their shattered bodies a testament to their despair before death.
And in the center of those ruins, the mountain-like Monarch-class Pola Beast had been cleanly cleaved in two by some sharp weapon.
The smooth incision looked like a work of art. The massive corpse had collapsed to both sides, exposing the bizarre, still-writhing tissues within.
The camera zoomed in.
In the center of the mountain of corpses and sea of blood, they finally spotted a tiny, standing figure.
The resolution was too low to make out his features; they could only see a solitary black silhouette.
Was that a human?
Under everyone's watchful eyes, the figure seemed to glance at the few remaining high-level Pola Beasts still twitching on the field.
Then, he casually raised his hand and gave the air a gentle wave.
It was as if an invisible ripple emanated from his hand.
In an instant, those dying behemoths looked as though they were crushed by an invisible, divine giant hand.
Their bodies began to twist and compress unnaturally. Their carapaces shattered, and internal organs and blood were squeezed out through the cracks.
Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!
Several massive clouds of blood mist bloomed silently across the quiet battlefield, completely extinguished.
Having done all this, the figure seemed to sense the prying eyes from the sky.
He slightly raised his head and "glanced" in the direction of the satellite.
Bzzzt—!
Inside the Lighthouse control room, the main screen was instantly overwhelmed by frantic static, and all communication signals were completely severed.
"Signal lost! Our satellite is being jammed again!"
"Quick! Salvage the data!"
The technicians operated frantically. In the end, they only managed to capture the afterimage of the final frame before the signal vanished.
The image was extremely blurry.
They could only see a lower body enveloped in a blood-red halo, and an upper body hidden in profound shadows.
The figure bathed in the boundary between light and dark, resembling a god walking upon the apocalyptic wasteland.
In the deathly silence, a voice abruptly rang out.
"A miracle..."
Charles's knees gave way, and he fell heavily to the floor. He spread his arms wide, his face displaying a frantic devotion and ecstasy.
"It's a miracle! A miracle bestowed by the Lord of Light and Shadow!" he shouted with all his might, using a chanting tone.
"He has heard our most devout prayers! He personally sent down divine punishment to purify this filthy earth!"
His fanatical prayer was highly contagious.
In the control room, the other members of the Light and Shadow Church instantly snapped out of their daze. As if finding their pillar of support, they dropped to their knees in prayer.
"Praise the Lord of Light and Shadow!"
"Divine punishment descends, cleansing the filth!"
Emotions of fear, awe, and fanaticism rapidly spread among the upper echelons of the Lighthouse.
Meanwhile, at the surface base.
Bai Yuekui felt the energy reaction of the Monarch-class instantly collapse and vanish, replaced by a much purer, more overbearing energy.
Her eyes were more solemn than ever before.
"Boss?" Xia Dou noticed her unusual demeanor.
Bai Yuekui didn't answer. She walked over to an instrument and looked at the now-calm energy readings.
After a moment of silence, she turned around, her tone leaving no room for doubt.
"Get ready. We're heading to the battlefield."
Inside the transport plane, Marc witnessed everything happening in the control room through the internal communication channel.
Watching Charles acting like a madman on the screen and hearing those blindly obedient prayers, his heart actually began to waver. Did the Lord of Light and Shadow truly exist?
Just then, the old City Lord's voice sounded.
"Marc."
"The crisis is resolved. The interference mission is canceled. Lay low for now and proceed to the battlefield to investigate in one hour."
The old City Lord's gaze swept over the frozen, god-like afterimage on the screen, a trace of fear and vigilance flashing deep in his eyes.
"As the City Lord, I order a lockdown on all related information. This photo is classified as the Lighthouse's highest secret. No one present is allowed to leak it!"
Charles stepped forward, declaring, "Of course. Those Dustminers have no right to glimpse the true face of the Lord of Light and Shadow."
"Furthermore, I request permission to further spread the faith of the Lord of Light and Shadow among the Citizens!"
"Granted!" the old City Lord agreed after a brief thought.
Area 47.
Ian casually wiped out the satellite signal that had been prying overhead like a fly, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly.
"Showtime is temporarily over."
He looked around at the masterpiece he had personally created and nodded in satisfaction.
As soon as he finished speaking, a cold mechanical prompt sounded in his mind.
"Extract!"
Ian froze for a moment.
He recalled the original plot, where the zealots in the Lighthouse's upper echelons chanted their slogans.
Then, a wicked smirk appeared on his face.
"Lord of Light and Shadow?"
"I wonder, does my Light and Shadow Armor, the Emperor Hero, count as the Lord of Light and Shadow?"