In the blink of an eye, another five years passed under the New Dynasty.
For the New Dynasty, these five years brought drastic change.
The Emperor fell ill. Despite every method attempted, his life could only barely be prolonged.
And as his illness worsened, his temperament grew stranger—violent even.
Arbitrary, domineering, irritable, quick to anger.
More and more terrifying.
If his change of character was a minor matter, then the torrent of resources he funneled into the Western Continent Research Institute bordered on madness, warping the entire functioning of society.
To manufacture enough weapons, the treasury was bled dry. Infrastructure halted, taxes soared, and wealth was stripped from the land by administrative decree, as if fishing dry a pond. The result was an economy sinking into stagnation.
Beneath the splendor of the Electric Age, what should have been a nation full of vitality had, in a few short years, grown frail.
Some tried to resist, but no storm could be raised.
After only a brief peak, the New Dynasty seemed ready to topple. Countless people were left confused, unable to fathom what their once "brilliant" Emperor was truly thinking.
"I just want to see what's outside."
Western Continent. At the edge of the northern mountains, where land met the endless sea, stood a towering peak.
On the seaward side, its lower half was sheer stone cliff, but on the upper section, manmade "windows" had been carved and fitted with special glass.
This was the vanguard of the Western Research Institute.
The mountain's belly was hollow. At its core lay the central laboratory.
To blast open the "Boundary," the Institute's superweapon—the "Annihilation Bomb"—had to be detonated at the very end of the ocean.
And this range of mountains was the closest land to that boundary.
Already, over the past five years, every Annihilation Bomb had been deployed at the ocean's edge, with undersea cables laid to connect their "switch" back to the central lab within this mountain.
This was the limit of control.
Now, in the central hall of the laboratory, the aging Emperor, supported by attendants, stood before one such window, staring out at the sea.
The weather was fair, the waters calm. In the farthest distance, one might even glimpse the faint outline of the "Majestic Wall."
Behind him, the vast hall buzzed with activity as technicians completed their final checks.
Moments later, the Chief Scientist—himself aged—slowly approached.
"Your Majesty, all three thousand Annihilation Bombs have been deployed. Final calibration is complete. We can detonate at any time."
As he spoke, he lifted a dark green metal case in both hands. From its base snaked thick cables that stretched across the floor to the surrounding instruments.
"Excellent." The withered Emperor withdrew his gaze, fixing his clouded eyes on him. With effort, he raised his trembling right hand—but hesitated.
"You understand the consequences of detonation?"
"Yes. According to calculations, simultaneous detonation of this many bombs will alter the ecology of the surrounding region—and could well collapse the world's entire ecological system.
For us, even shielded by this mountain, the radiation alone will kill us swiftly, without exception."
The Chief Scientist spoke calmly.
He did not whisper, yet those around them showed no reaction.
After five years of repeatedly wielding the Imperial Seal, the old Emperor had already carved the will of destruction deep into every mind present.
"So tell me—should I press it?" the Emperor asked.
"...I do not know," the Chief Scientist replied, his eyes unfocused.
"I see."
The Emperor pressed his lips thin. With a trembling hand, he accepted the detonator, then turned back toward the sea.
At that moment, the scattered researchers in the hall drifted closer, their blank eyes fixed on the small device.
No one spoke. The silence was absolute.
Only the old Emperor moved. Step by step, he opened the casing, keyed in the password, released the safety… finally, his hand hovered over the trigger.
Outside, the sun shone bright upon his gaunt face, though it lent no warmth.
Click.
The crisp sound rang out.
In dead silence, the signal ran from the detonator through the instruments, along the long undersea cables—toward the far end of the world.
A heartbeat of stillness.
Then, some technician gave an awed exclamation: "Wow…"
In the distance, terror erupted.
The calm sea split apart. Storm winds howled, clouds scattered.
A thunderous roar beyond description swallowed all sound. The reinforced glass set into the mountain fractured into a web of cracks—then shattered in an instant!
A flood of pure, blinding white light pierced every retina.
It drowned their consciousness.
At that instant, three thousand Annihilation Bombs detonated together.
Dozens of miles of ocean boiled away into steam.
An unspeakable shockwave tore apart mountain equipment and instruments.
Radiated ash soared high, spreading swiftly, engulfing the Western Continent before drifting further still.
In city after city—
On streets, in homes, in factories, schools, hospitals, train stations—countless citizens lifted their heads, staring toward the Western Continent.
Toward the inferno that lit half the sky.
Men and women, young and old—
At once, they felt the trembling of the earth.
Eyes widened, mouths agape, skin stung as they gazed in horror at the massive dust storm, hundreds of kilometers across, blotting out the heavens.
Screams erupted:
"Ahhhh!!!"
6 minutes 26 seconds after detonation: the shockwave engulfed the entire Western Continent.
7 minutes 21 seconds: Mingzhou Prefecture fell.
8 minutes 49 seconds: Taian Prefecture fell.
11 minutes 05 seconds: Jingchuan Prefecture fell.
…
At 18 minutes: the wave reached the central plains.
At 22 minutes 07 seconds: it swept through Kyoto!
One hour later—
Three hundred thousand square kilometers of fertile land across the Tark Continent had become a wasteland.
Meanwhile, in Yang City, inside a trendy hotpot restaurant—
The air conditioning was set to cold.
At one table, Lin Tuo stirred the spicy broth with his chopsticks. In the bubbling soup, ingredients floated and sank.
Beside him, his iced drink was already half-finished.
"Whew." He lifted a roll of lamb, blew on it, dipped it in sauce, and stuffed it into his mouth with a satisfied expression.
When it slid into his stomach, warmth filled his body.
He drank another mouthful of soda, sweat beading on his forehead.
"Lamb should always be eaten in big bites."
Just as he was thinking that, the phone on the table lit up again.
The scheduled alarm.
Time to collect Ether once more.
"Sigh. Too much Ether is a hassle too—having to absorb it every few hours…"
Shaking his head, Lin Tuo set down his chopsticks, leaned back, and closed his eyes.
Consciousness shift.
The next instant—
In the study of Lishan Martial Hall, his reclining body opened its eyes.
Rising, he walked to the Sand Table and switched it back to Creation Mode.
Light flickered—
And Lin Tuo looked down upon three hundred thousand square kilometers of wasteland.
Stunned.
Moments later, a heart-wrenching scream tore through the Martial Hall:
"What the hell… happened here?!!"
(End of Chapter)