Picking Up Supreme Treasures in the Dream Realm

"Allison is gone too."

"The boss hasn’t spoken, it seems he was killed by a missile explosion."

"Motherf***er, why didn’t the warplanes alert us!"

Alberto listened for a moment and only heard 7 or 8 voices, which meant most of his comrades hadn’t survived.

The shocking casualty rate was clearly tied directly to the lack of an alert.

Under normal circumstances, when a fighter jet is locked on by a missile, the onboard warning system can use infrared or radar signals to estimate the missile type, distance, and threat level, roughly hinting at the remaining time, allowing the pilot to judge when to eject.

This time, however, the warning system failed completely, making it difficult for the pilots to grasp the right opportunity for ejection.

Alberto slowly drifted down from the sky, a thought suddenly crossed his mind: "This war may not go as smoothly as the Federation expected."

In fact.

Conventional missiles rely mainly on radar signals to lock onto targets.

But Great Xia has adopted a new technology—supernatural spectrum locking.

Every supernatural artifact possesses a unique supernatural spectrum, much like human fingerprints.

When a fighter jet is locked onto by ordinary missiles, it will immediately warn the pilot that the jet is locked.

Supernatural spectrum locking will not trigger an alarm at all, even if the missile reaches right in front of the enemy pilot’s eyes.

Currently, only Great Xia has understood this and applied it to the missile industry.

This is a cliff-leading black technology!

A few minutes later.

"Bang!"

Alberto’s feet hit the ground.

He expertly rolled half a turn, dissipating much of the impact force.

As he barely gets up, he suddenly hears a sentence: "What have you injected yourselves with, that your life imprint has been contaminated?"

Alberto, hearing the voice, looks in the direction and immediately sees a black-haired, yellow-skinned figure standing a few meters away, watching him.

He shuddered all over, feeling like he had fallen into an ice cave.

Before taking off on the mission, he had watched Great Xia’s press conference, so recognized who it was at a glance—Great Xia Spirit Crow!

Faced with the world-renowned top-tier expert, Alberto instantly felt what it meant to face pressure bigger than mountains.

His heart raced, and cold sweat broke out on his back as he opened his mouth respectfully: "Lord Spirit Crow, it is... very honorable to meet you."

He spoke in the Great Xia Language, his attitude more respectful than meeting the Federation leader.

However, before the aircraft was shot down, he was cursing "damn Great Xia Spirit Crow" repeatedly on the communication channel.

This behavior was very much in line with a bandit’s behavior—shameless, recognizing only fists.

In Great Xia’s old saying, it would be—barbarians fearing might but not admiring virtue.

Yang Fan smiled lightly: "You are called Alberto, right?

Alberto froze, shocked: "How do you know?"

Yang Fan did not answer, but simply said indifferently: "You are about to die."

Alberto’s breath caught, and great fear appeared in his eyes.

Yang Fan then said something somewhat strange: "The one who kills you is not me."

Alberto was instantly confused.

Yang Fan did not explain, and the Zhen Demon cross pupil in his left eye suddenly lit up.

He extended a finger, pointing it at Alberto’s forehead, making a motion in the air.

An invisible and shapeless supernatural cross mark quietly entered Alberto’s forehead.

"Ah~"

Alberto screamed in pain.

At the exact center of his forehead, the flesh seemed like it had been branded with a red-hot iron, silently forming a cross.

Yang Fan offered a kind blessing: "Hope you survive this."

Although Alberto didn’t know what had happened, he knew the danger he was in.

Suddenly, he knelt down, pleading: "Lord Spirit Crow, please help me."

Yang Fan ignored him.

*

Hundreds of kilometers away.

Within Carmenia.

In an underground altar.

A terrifying tragedy was unfolding here.

Victims had their hands and feet pinned by nails, bodies rapidly shrinking, a mist of blood floating off their skin.

This brought them to extreme pain, causing them to scream hoarsely.

"Ah!"

"Help~"

"Mom!"

Judging from their skin color, these poor souls seemed to be Azik people.

The blood mist seemed attracted by some invisible force, rapidly floating towards the top of the altar, gathering into a blood cloud.

Standing within the blood cloud were six demons with bodies covered in black scales.

One demon, the burliest of them, spoke with a hoarse voice: "The destruction of the Godkiller Eagles was predictable, so I used them as bait.

"I also foresaw that the Canglan Spirit Crow would definitely appear and kill one of the baits.

"I planted the mark within all the baits ahead of time. As long as the Canglan Spirit Crow strikes, we can teleport near him at once."

This demon deliberately paused, his tone carrying a bloodthirsty intent: "Then kill the Canglan Spirit Crow!"

The remaining five Qing yang Demon Race members grew excited.

Soon.

The surroundings grew silent.

More than 800 victims lost their life signs, all turned into dehydrated corpses.

The altar’s location resembled a horror movie set.

The demon leader suddenly sensed something, shouted: "The Canglan Spirit Crow has made a move!"

It stepped forward at the fastest speed and touched the blood-colored stone tablet in the center of the altar.

"Buzz~"

The entire altar vibrated once.

The blood cloud began to squirm, swiftly pouring towards the stone tablet.

The stone tablet seemed extremely thirsty, ravenously devouring the blood cloud.