It had been given a name, loaded into the Miracle Imprint, and become a living miracle!
Even if it could only exist for a few short weeks, it was still an indestructible weapon of terror...
Anyone who witnessed the power it displayed and its iconic silhouette could guess the origin of the name bestowed upon it.
——The Dome Giant·Atlas!
The great spirit shouldering the earth and sky.
"...You've always been like that, Mikhail," Michel lifted his gaze and murmured indifferently, "Always burrowing in your own corner, not playing games with others, always secretive, hiding yourself and your creations where others can't see them... Looking back now, the signs of your autism were already there, weren't they?"
He asked softly, "When you have something good, shouldn't you share the joy with your fellow disciples first?"
No one responded.
Only a sharp sound resonated in the gear room.
It was the control lever Michel grasped so tightly that the steel had bent under his furious grip.
"You... damn thing..."
He had striven with all his might, sparing no cost, to finally gain a step ahead. But when the curtain was drawn, he found he still hadn't shaken off his detested enemy; they were merely, humiliatingly, evenly matched. No phrase felt more humiliating than 'evenly matched.' Just as he had experienced so many times before. In every assessment, he had been neck and neck with the best. Yet, the closer it came to the end, the more Michel realized that the perfect scores he had striven so desperately to achieve were, for some, merely the assumed starting point. If only he could have heard mockery, he wouldn't have minded the laughter and disdain. But from start to finish, all he ever received was this indifferent attitude. Calm and cold. Even when rejected and opposed by everyone, it didn't seem to matter to him; rather, he appeared to take it as a matter of course. So arrogant as to disregard everyone...
"Deliver our 'present'!"
After a while, Michel ordered emotionlessly, "There's more joy in sharing happiness... Having received such kindness, a reciprocation is in order."
The scholar nodded and hurriedly left.
It didn't take long. In the massive laboratory, within the column of light, the cores of the two separated control centers—remnants left by the former King of Casting—trembled thunderously.
Ash-gray flames ignited within the Wind Lamp.
And from the eyes of the solemn, statue-like husk, two silent streams of bloody tears flowed.
In the dark expanse of the Town of Dusk, amidst the splattering blood rain, a crimson gale suddenly whipped up from nowhere. It tore through this confined world, instantly saturating every inch of air.
Wherever it passed, countless raindrops evaporated. Lush green plants instantly withered, desiccated, and corroded by the terrifying heat and virulent toxins in the air, meeting their demise.
Following this, flurries of ash-like snowflakes drifted down, mingling with the torrential rain.
These powdery ashes didn't dissolve into the bloody water. Instead, they floated lightly through the rain, drifting between heaven and earth. Before long, the entire world was rendered a desolate gray-white.
The Burning Wind and the Tide of Sediment.
This terrifying catastrophe, a horror Huai Shi had previously only witnessed in the Witch's Dream, now suddenly descended upon this confined slice of Hell.
As a former Giant Beast, he couldn't have comprehended the Terrible Power of these two phenomena. But now, truly experiencing their presence, a shiver involuntarily ran down his spine.
The Erosion species hidden in various corners had already let out hoarse screams.
Anyone touched by even a wispy strand of the gray sediment would experience spiritual erosion and agony comparable to that inflicted by the Apocalypse. Their lucidity would rapidly deteriorate as the sediment accumulated, until they finally succumbed to madness, hurling themselves into the Burning Wind and torrential rain.
Seeking their own death.
They would age rapidly, yet before succumbing to old age, they would perish in agony from the scorching heat and virulent poison of the Burning Wind. Ultimately, only ghastly remains would be left amidst the blood rain.
The current Town of Dusk had truly become a veritable Hell.
In addition to the spontaneous combustion from the Sun and the dark petrification Curse, there was now the decaying blood rain from the Iron Crystal Throne, and the Burning Wind and Tide of Sediment from the Ivy League...
Five deadly Curses filled every inch of space, nearly turning this place into a deathtrap.
Without protection, anyone exposed would be doomed to a miserable death in an instant.
However, it wasn't long before Huai Shi saw a thin white mist slowly spreading from the horizon. It drifted gently, like a gossamer veil—faint, elusive, yet tenderly blanketing the land...
Huai Shi's eyes began to twitch uncontrollably.
A Curse. The sixth one...
A glance at the sporadically glittering glows of Source Substance on the ground revealed what was happening.
It was the 'return gift' from the Iron Crystal Throne.
Under the corrosive influence of the mist, the Source Substance of those Erosion species began to dissipate, draining away with each passing moment.
If this were to happen to the Soul of a Sublimator, it would be a catastrophe akin to massive hemorrhage; they likely wouldn't last five minutes before their Soul collapsed, utterly defeated.
Do you have to be so cruel?
Huai Shi was dumbfounded.
He could already foresee the future of the Town of Dusk, covered by countless Curses...