I Pick Up Talents on the Interstellar Battlefield Chapter 716 - 517: Demon Heart Breaks Free, Desperate Situation (Part 2)

Recently having ascended to Tier Seven, he was still unable to contend in battles beyond Tier Eight. Any impetuous involvement would only sow chaos, compelling him to seek alternative methods of assistance.

As his thoughts coalesced, the very ground began to convulse violently. The colossal ice peaks behind him shuddered; spiderweb-like fissures snaked across their frozen surfaces. From these ruptures, thick, ink-black mist billowed forth, exuding a malevolent aura that rapidly consumed half the battlefield.

Almost instantly upon the black mist's emergence, Mogara, high above, tilted his head back. The demonic aura surrounding him intensified threefold. His once profound black energy now bore crimson markings, forcefully repelling Lan and the Four Divine Beasts several paces backward.

He cast his gaze downward towards Lan, whose composure had visibly faltered, and a cold, bloodthirsty smirk graced his lips.

"This is bad!"

Lan's formerly placid expression finally gave way.

Upon breaching the ruins, scattered fragments of recollection began to surface. Coupled with the accounts from the Four Divine Beasts, he was able to grasp the gravity of their present predicament.

This location, revered as a treasure trove by the Empire's prodigies, was indeed the "Divine Artifact Domain" belonging to the Frost Throne. Within it lay Mogara's heart and a portion of his corporeal essence, sealed away.

For millennia, Mogara's heart had relentlessly assaulted the Frost Throne's seal, consequently engendering cracks within the throne itself. The escaping energy, merging with his external form, caused his avatar to grow progressively more potent.

Thus, he had orchestrated the luring of the Empire's geniuses into this place, arranging for them to engage Mogara's avatar in combat.

Each time an avatar of Mogara met its demise, a corresponding portion of his physical being would be annihilated, diminishing his foundational power by a fraction.

The outcome affirmed the success of his strategy.

Despite some geniuses falling victim to the avatars' fury, the remaining combatants, through coordinated efforts, had obliterated a significant majority of Mogara's bodily components, thereby incapacitating his power source.

This was the reason why he and the Four Divine Beasts appeared to be at a disadvantage, yet maintained an air of calm—they were drawing upon the energy sustenance provided by the Divine Artifact Domain, consistently preserving their strength to gradually erode Mogara's avatar.

However, he had never anticipated Mogara would possess a contingency plan.

The opposing force had, through unknown means, bypassed the Divine Artifact Domain's array lock and directly invoked the power of the Demon Heart residing at the seal's core.

With this avatar now infused by the Demon Heart's might, its combat prowess was utterly overwhelming. Should they fail to resist this onslaught, the avatar would merge with the Demon Heart, both internally and externally, shattering the Frost Throne's seal completely.

At that juncture, not only would their demise be certain, but the tranquility painstakingly secured by the Ice God Race at the brink of annihilation would also utterly crumble.

Lan directed his gaze upward at the increasingly solidified demonic aura dominating the sky, then glanced at the rapidly expanding black fissures below. A resolute expression bloomed in his icy eyes.

"Qin Tian."

At this critical juncture, Ji Taiyan's voice resonated within Qin Tian's mind, steady and firm.

"Utilize your Spatial Ability to evacuate everyone."

The situation had devolved into an irrecoverable state; remaining here would only spell certain doom.

Qin Tian regarded Ji Taiyan, slowly shaking his head. "Your Highness, it is too late."

He raised a hand, gesturing towards the heavens. All eyes followed his indication.

The once-grey expanse above was now entirely obscured by a dense, ink-like fog, resembling an immense, inverted cauldron that tightly sealed the entirety of the treasure space.

Qin Tian's spatial senses extended outward, only to encounter a suffocatingly silent "barrier."

All spatial nodes had been locked down by demonic energy. The spatial rifts, once effortlessly conjured, were now more unyielding than ten-thousand-year-old black iron.

With his capabilities, forcibly breaching this spatial barrier would necessitate a considerable duration, a luxury the adversary overhead would not afford them.

Boom—

The ice mountains groaned once more as a figure, wreathed in black energy, shot directly from a glacial crevice towards the heavens. It finally halted beside Mogara's avatar, peering down upon the assembled figures below.

Suspended in mid-air, his robes billowing, his once fair and handsome visage was now marred by a network of web-like demonic patterns. These markings extended from his jawline down his neck, melding with the black miasma radiating from his entire being. His eyes appeared vacant, an unsettling sight to behold.

As the assembled crowd looked up, many recognized him and gasped aloud in disbelief.

"That's Jiang Mobai! How could he have become like this?"

Ji Taiyan observed Jiang Mobai, his tone grave. "He is under control."As the support of the demonic aura vanished, Jiang Mobai’s physical form deteriorated rapidly. His once luminous skin turned withered and aged, resembling the rough texture of tree bark. His upright posture collapsed, and he crumpled into a ball, plummeting from the heavens like a piece of desiccated wood. "Dongfang Qi?" Ji Taiyan directed his gaze towards Dongfang Qi, the esteemed healer from the Holy Blood Clan, known throughout the Empire. Sensing the faint life-signs of Jiang Mobai, Dongfang Qi offered a negative shake of his head, murmuring, "It's beyond hope." The Mogara avatar, having absorbed all of Jiang Mobai’s demonic aura, surged with power akin to a destructive tsunami. The dark aura solidified into gleaming scales, and its Black Wings unfurled, casting a vast shadow that blotted out the sky. Its crimson eyes scanned the Four Divine Beasts, radiating a chilling intent to kill. "Young Master, we cannot delay any further," White Xiong announced, his voice resonating towards Lan and the other Divine Beasts. "The sacrifices of the Ice God Race must not be in vain; we shall handle what remains," Lan declared. Upon hearing this, Lan's expression shifted slightly, but the other Divine Beasts offered calm affirmations. Indeed, after millennia of vigil and anticipation, they had grown weary of their unending existence. Should their demise serve to repay Mogara’s long-held suppression, fulfilling their sacred duty would, without question, be a profound honor.