Chapter 740: The Hour of Vengeance
Ethan stood alone before the large group from the Crimson Sect, separated only by the glowing mystic barrier that still offered the cultivators a small, illusory sense of security.
"Greetings, envoy of the God of the Dead," the Grand Elder began, bowing his head slightly as he tried to project serenity. "We, the humble Crimson Sect..."
"Save your bullshit speech," Ethan interrupted him with a cutting coldness. "I came to collect the debts you owe me."
The Grand Elder felt deeply offended seeing a young man speak to him with such a lack of respect. However, he suppressed his rage and forced himself to maintain a friendly smile to prevent the terrifying army stationed behind the boy from pouncing on them.
"Young man, I believe there is a misunderstanding here..." the Grand Elder said in a measured tone. "We have never offended any God of the Dead. We are deeply respectful of the deceased and would never desecrate a tomb or any sacred grounds."
Ethan completely ignored the old man’s words. His gaze locked tightly onto the Sect Leader; that man possessed the exact same arrogant and despicable look as the idiot who had invaded his world in the past.
"You, old man," Ethan said, pointing directly at the Sect Leader. "More than ten years ago, you sent a young man to a small island, right? Let me guess... was that young man your grandson or some descendant of yours?"
Ethan’s words struck the Sect Leader’s most sensitive nerve. Nearly twelve years ago, his favorite grandson had died in an unknown place. He had personally sent him accompanied by an army of disciples to ensure he would be invincible, yet he had still been slaughtered. Hearing this stranger bring that event to light caused an ominous thought to seize his mind.
"Something like that did indeed happen..." the Sect Leader replied, clenching his fists as doubt and resentment warred in his chest. "May I ask how your Exalted Self knows about this?"
Ethan did not answer. Instead, he asked in a ice-cold voice:
"After what happened to him, may I ask what it was that you did?"
"I sent war galleons to search for his whereabouts and punish the culprits," the Sect Leader answered without hesitation.
"That’s right... you sent galleons. An Invictus ship, correct?" Ethan said, as his aura began to seep through the barrier. "Do you know what happened to your ship and its people? Or do you even know what they did in that place?"
The Sect Leader’s eyes widened as he suddenly made the connection.
"I see you remember now," Ethan continued, his voice with a fury accumulated over more than a decade. "You slaughtered my island. Not content with merely invading it, your people killed all my people, destroyed everything I loved, and forced me away from those I cared about. You damned bastard son of a bitch! I have searched for you for ten years... and today will be the day that all of you are exterminated without mercy."
Upon seeing that the blood feud was direct and inevitable, the Grand Elder did not hesitate. Shattering any illusion of diplomacy, he launched a surprise attack at a terrifying speed, seeking to take Ethan unawares. The impact was so swift that the air tore open with a sonic boom; however, the blow was blocked with absolute ease by Ethan’s hand, which caught the old man’s fist in midair.
The Grand Elder, horror-struck, tried to pull his hand back with all his might, but it was completely trapped, clamped as if held in an impenetrable steel bench vise.
"Today I will show you the desperation that you have inflicted upon so many people," Ethan said, locking his ice-cold eyes onto the old man as his amethyst aura surged into the sky. "Today you will pay the price for your actions... I will show you true desperation."
Ethan extended his other hand forward and pressed a single finger against the structure of the formation. In an instant, the grand three-layered barrier exploded into millions of glowing fragments of light, shattering like glass.
"Annihilate them all...!" Ethan ordered, his voice echoing like a divine sentence.
The elders of the sect attempted to fall back in panic upon seeing the grand formation disintegrate, but their movements were cut off instantly. The armies of the undead swarmed them like a tide of shadows and steel, besieging them immediately without giving them even a moment to breathe.
Desperate, the guards stationed atop the high walls activated the defensive mechanisms and slammed the main gates shut, frantically seeking a sliver of security behind the thick mystic metal.
However, there was no salvation whatsoever.
One of the imposing Death Knights marched forward with steady strides through the carnage, raised its colossal axe imbued with spectral energy, and brought it down violently against the structure. A deafening roar shook the earth as the massive gates were shattered in a single blow, reduced to splinters and twisted metal remnants.
With no obstacles remaining in their path, the endless horde of undead flooded into the heart of the Crimson Sect like a unleashed torrent.
Screams of agony and desperation soon echoed through every corner of the Crimson Sect. The chaos was absolute; the glorious, impregnable ancient stronghold turned into an open-air slaughterhouse in a matter of seconds.
Disciples of all ranks ran in absolute terror through the corridors and pavilions, tripping over one another as they sought refuge in places that no longer existed. The earth trembled beneath the footsteps of the undead horde, and the air—once imbued with pure spiritual aura—became stained with the acrid stench of fresh blood and black spectral energy.
"Sect Leader, help us...!" an elder from the rear ranks screamed as three gigantic skeletons tore through his limbs, dragging him to the ground in a rain of blood.
"Save yourselves! The defenses have fallen! They’ve all fallen!" guards shrieked from the ruined walls before being decapitated or thrown into the abyss.
The Grand Elder, his arm still trapped by Ethan’s crushing grip, watched the horror unfold with bulging eyes. Hearing the blood-curdling shrieks of his people and seeing the bodies of his disciples dismembered without mercy made his blood run cold. Pure terror took hold of his spirit, crushing any trace of his former pride.
Ethan stared at him intently, his amethyst eyes glowing amid the chaos and the flames that were beginning to consume the sect’s temples. His face showed not a single drop of hesitation, only a cold, ruthless satisfaction.
"Listen closely to their screams," Ethan whispered into his ear, his icy voice drowning out the entire din of the battle. "This is only the beginning of the hell that awaits you."