The Invincible Full-Moon System Chapter 1814: Chilling Combination

Rumble—!

A torrent of darkness poured down relentlessly.

Every few moments, thunderous booms echoed from lightning hidden within the ominous clouds.

Cries echoed through the chaos. Wails of sorrow from those suffering. Howls of agony from the dying. And thrilled shouts from the killer. Devastation ravaged the area. Within just five minutes, nearly all structures lay in ruins or ashes.

Crimson stains drenched the roads and walls. So much gore flowed that the atmosphere grew thick and heavy.

Breathing proved difficult for ordinary folks not thrilled by the sight of blood.

The Lava Gatekeeper, Dorn, scanned the surroundings in despair. Not long before, Sky City stood as an unbreachable haven of calm. Now, it crumbled into debris. Deep concern gnawed at him for his comrades. He fretted intensely.

Numerous allies remained scattered, fighting to endure.

Yet Rex remained utterly unconcerned. Though Dorn hadn't truly anticipated any sympathy from him.

Across all worlds, the brutal survival-of-the-fittest law reigned supreme.

This ruin stemmed from their long disregard for those below.

Such a catastrophe loomed inevitable.

Rex lounged atop a macabre seat fashioned from bodies, utterly at ease. His stance exuded relaxation. Even a hint of comfort.

His shoulders hung slack. Elbows rested on his thighs. Fingers laced together.

"Could you order them to halt, at least for now?" Dorn pleaded. "Sky City has fallen. We grasp that. We underst—"

"If you stood in my shoes, would you cease?" Rex queried, arching an eyebrow. The response came swiftly through Dorn's quiet. "Losers hold no leverage over victors. I've tasted victory and defeat alike—and as you see, it's simple to force understanding upon others. But far tougher to keep that empathy enduring.

"Returning to your inquiry... You surely sense my true demand. One among you seized a cherished one of mine," Rex halted. His pause thickened the air with suffocating strain. "Where is he?"

"I don’t know," Dorn gritted his teeth. "But I can discover it. Allow me to attem—"

Rex burst into laughter, as if amused by the notion.

This baffled Dorn. It also dawned on him that he faced a madman.

The Blood Moon intensified Rex’s craving for bloodshed. His talons tingled with urge. Pulsed insistently. Yet surrounded by gore now, he discovered his rage amplified his delight in the aroma of terror. It enticed him, reminiscent of Evelyn’s fragrance.

Maybe surpassing her allure. Especially under the Blood Moon's peak glow.

Watching Dorn desperately seek escape for his kin brought Rex joy.

"I already know his location." Rex dismissed with a casual wave, chuckling at his own jest. His survey of the wrecked Sky City finished. Devo hid not within it, but higher, and the culprit neared swiftly. "Relax your worries. My true desire lies elsewhere."

"What? Tell me what you seek? I'll fulfill it, no matter the cost!"

"Do you possess the power to serve as a Spirit Adjudicator?"

Dorn reeled from the unexpected query.

Yet he regained composure fast. He ought to have foreseen this as Rex's goal.

Coming from the Mortal Realm, after all.

"It hinges on your intentions," Dorn replied, his voice steady with assurance.

"Nothing too demanding for you, I'm sure," Rex shrugged and glanced backward. Amanir had finally arrived at Sky City. About time. "I seek to boost my Spirits' aptitude. Is that within your capabilities? Or have I approached the incorrect individual?"

"Provided the sacrifice doesn't surpass my strength, yes," Dorn confirmed.

To elevate a Spirit’s aptitude requires a sacrifice. The ritual demands precision. But if the power gap between sacrifice and conductor remains manageable, success follows. Dorn had performed it several times. Not expertly, but sufficiently for basics.

"Excellent," Rex extended his arms in invitation. His grin broadened. "The sacrifice... You recognize whom."

Dorn's brow furrowed deeply.

He pondered briefly before grasping Rex's intent.

’Handling it solo proves challenging, but with allies, it's feasible.’ He nodded. A viable trade for a sliver of compassion. "And...? What serves as the catalyst? Who receives the drawn essence?"

Rex gestured sideways without fully turning, thumb jabbing rearward. "This fellow here."

From the skies, Amanir descended next to Varya. He heaved for breath, bearing minor injuries.

His complexion appeared even more ashen than before.

"You’re tardy," Rex eyed him. "I assumed Kraken accompanied you. You seem rougher than anticipated."

"Haah... Haah..." Amanir perked an ear. Exhaustion rendered him speechless.

This embarrassed Rex before Dorn, so he delivered a sharp blow to Amanir.

Amanir flew into a nearby dwelling, smashing through its cooking area.

"What was that strike for?!" Amanir emerged, enraged.

"Ah, speech returns to you," Rex smirked, shifting focus back to Dorn.

"That flight was grueling, you realize?" Amanir rejoined his spot and leaned an ear against Rex’s shoulder. Fatigue still gripped him. He bumped Rex playfully, then scratched his snout, "Gratitude is in order. I rescued your lady unscathed. Vibrant and whole. Reward me, or call this exploitation."

"I intended to," Rex tilted his chin toward Dorn.

Only then did Amanir notice the direct stare at Dorn.

"Oh, Sir Dorn," Amanir dipped in a slight bow, displaying refined manners. "A wonder to behold you personally, as ever." He whispered near Rex’s ear, utterly puzzled by the scene. "He ranks among the mighty Gatekeepers. You've pulled it off, haven't you?"

"That Demon Spirit acts as the catalyst...?" Dorn cut in, indicating Amanir. "Him?"

"He comes off as arrogant," Amanir tsked irritably.

Yet if Amanir understood Rex's demand of Dorn, Dorn's inflection wouldn't shock him.

"I figured you capable," Rex arched a brow.

"Indeed, I am, but reason must prevail!" Flames surged fiercer beneath Dorn’s flesh, illuminating him amid the gloom. "That Demon Spirit holds Eternal Spirit status, while the sacrifice is a Primordial Spirit! How do you envision me achieving that?!"

"Hmmm," Rex stroked his chin, anticipating such objection. "What if we use two Spirits?"

Amanir eyed Rex.

In that moment, clarity struck him on two fronts. He comprehended the discussion between Rex and Dorn, and discerned Rex's unstable state. The Blood Moon's sway lingered, ’Full Moons supposedly lost their hold on him, yet this variant differs.’

"Throw in ten additional Eternal Spirits, and it changes nothing!" Dorn bellowed.

"Thus, you cannot?" Rex swiveled toward Varya casually. "Eliminate one more, if you would."

"Yes." Varya obeyed without delay.

She advanced with deliberate strides.

"Hold on, that's not your prior stance!" Dorn objected. His paladins glanced his way; their gazes urged action. Yet he recognized force would lead to annihilation. "Understand this. My refusal stems not from reluctance! It's purely imposs—"

"Impossible here. Impossible there. Yada, yada, yada~" Rex cleaned his ear. Fatigue set in from the repeated excuses. He gazed skyward, fixating on a spot, "I lack endless patience. You projected confidence before."

"True, but that was because—"

Splash—!

Varya ripped off yet another's head, mercilessly.

Dorn fell speechless. He gaped at the spilling blood and limbless form.

"Varya, at every three-second interval, end one life," Rex instructed further.

"As you command," Varya faced the cluster. Her mouth silently tallied the ticks.

At this, the huddled survivors shuddered, paladins clutching arms firmer.

All yearned to strike, yet awaited Dorn's approval.

"This halts only when you provide a viable method," Rex pressed, observing as if enthralled by a gripping tale. "Otherwise, seconds keep ticking. Given their numbers, your window shrinks rapidly."

His smirk brimmed with malice.

Dorn recalled werewolves as captives to rage. More beastly than any Mortal Realm kin. He braced for a frenzied beast, but Rex diverged. His wrath sharpened like a blade, evoking dread.

He blended a werewolf's inferno with human cunning. A harrowing blend.

The ensuing moments twisted into mental torment.

Dorn proposed alternatives as Varya hauled victims one by one—dispatching them like mere animals. Eventually, she succumbed to temptation, devouring portions amid the metallic tang.

Rex, naturally, permitted it. The snaps of fracturing bone and rips of sinew amplified the strain on Dorn.

For each idea from Dorn, Rex consulted the System for success odds.

Any under fifty percent earned instant rejection.

The System revealed a near-perfect method, so Rex rejected anything shy of eighty percent viability. Lacking a solid plan from Dorn, deaths mounted.

Rex had expended five hundred million gold forging the White Mask pact.

Five hundred million gold. He refused to squander more on System insights here. That onus fell to Dorn. A millennia-old being ought to possess deeper knowledge than admitted.

At the fifteenth slaying, a paladin lunged at Varya.

Yet mere steps from her, he crumpled lifeless.

Rex invoked the Inevitable Death Spirit Genesis to shatter his core.

Finally, Dorn devised the solution.

"I can prepare an extra sacrifice to fortify the Demon Spirits’ forms, enabling them to endure the Primordial Spirit's vital surge," he stated, eyes fixed on Rex hopefully. "That ought to render the ritual feasible."

<Analyzing...>

<Notice: the method mentioned is a part of the Dark Tribute Ritual with an 85% success chance!>

"Cease," Rex lifted a hand, halting Varya’s next strike.

The assembly, once nearing a hundred, dwindled to scarcely over fifty. Bodies sprawled around Dorn. Fresh crimson lapped at his armored feet. Though warmth evaded touch, it pierced his soul.

"Proceed as required," Rex rose from his grim perch and rolled his neck. "For the empire, I welcome your gracious support for one of its champions."

Minutes seated had left him stiff, yearning to unleash violence anew.

Nearby, the White Mask and serpent concluded their tasks, drawing close.

Rex vaulted high. Simultaneously, the serpent seized him, ascending. Varya latched onto the serpent’s tail effortlessly, abandoning Amanir below. He managed flight independently, but sharing the ride suited better.

Alas, he lagged.

Meanwhile, a storm of thunderclouds ascended toward the third tier's edge. Blood and gashes marred his form. Rezar struggled to process the sight. Devo’s cautions echoed in his thoughts, branding Devo's master as a sheer abomination.

But originating from the Mortal Realm, how nightmarish could he truly be?

So Rezar once believed.

Tonight, however, he confronted the staggering monstrosity of Rex Silverstar.

’I must reach Devo without delay,’ he resolved inwardly.