Save the simulator and make Sarkaz great again!

"So what if he's the Blood Demon Lord?!"

"He was just one person, while we now have a full twelve phonographs!!"

"He will definitely not be able to withstand this round of attacks!!"

The other nobles nodded in agreement, as if believing in the power of the phonograph could turn their dire situation around.

Count Coleste felt a sudden dizziness as he looked at the group of gendarmes standing blankly in the street—some of whom had even raised white flags.

Cowards!! A bunch of cowards!!

If they survive this, none of those guys will keep their jobs!

"What are you all standing there for?! He's all alone!!"

"You military police, hold that devil back!!"

"If we die, you won't receive a single penny of your reward or military merit!!"

Upon hearing this, the military police exchanged bewildered glances... but none of them dared to move.

Are you kidding me? Do you think they can stop this esteemed person in front of them?

Enraged by the indifferent military police nobles, they waved their arms and shouted at the top of their lungs.

"Start! Start everything!!"

At this moment, they no longer cared about the casualties of their own people; all they wanted was to kill this demon as quickly as possible!

As for the issue of paying pensions to the military police...

Don't even think about it!! Such disloyalty deserves a tax increase when they get back!!

The whisperers controlling the phonograph gritted their teeth, continuously channeling their power into it.

The phonograph hummed again, and twelve massive streams of magical energy erupted from the device once more, like a raging torrent, rushing straight towards Ducarre in the sky above the street.

However, Ducarre simply stood there quietly, a hint of mockery flashing in his crimson eyes.

He raised his hand, and a ball of scarlet energy condensed in his palm. With a gentle wave, he blocked all twelve spell energies.

"This...how is this possible?!"

The nobles stared wide-eyed, their faces filled with disbelief.

"Our phonograph...it had absolutely no effect on him?!"

Inside the city hall, the panic among the nobles had reached its peak. The Earl of Coleste slumped under the bed, clutching his head tightly in his hands, cursing incessantly.

His voice trembled, filled with boundless fear and rage. The dust under the bed made him cough incessantly, but he couldn't care less. The roaring sounds and screams outside continued to echo, as if the footsteps of death were approaching.

"No...it shouldn't be like this..."

Count Coruscant's eyes were filled with fear and regret.

"Trash! It's all trash!"

"Those military police, those intelligence brokers, and those damned nobles!"

"Didn't they say the phonograph was enough to stop everything?! Didn't they say the Sarkaz wouldn't launch large-scale attacks on small cities?!"

"We clearly...we clearly had a phonograph..."

His voice became lower and lower.

As soon as he finished speaking, crimson energy erupted from Ducarre's palm, instantly striking the roof of the city hall.

The enormous explosion shook the entire building, ripped off the roof, and rained down rubble and debris.

Ducarre appeared like a ghost at the entrance of the city hall. His gaze swept over the nobles who were slumped on the ground, his indifferent eyes showing that he did not take them seriously at all.

He raised his hand, and crimson energy condensed in his palm, forming a massive blood sphere. The blood sphere slowly rose into the air, emanating a suffocating sense of oppression.

"Now, let me teach you what true power is."

The blood sphere suddenly exploded, and crimson energy swept through the entire city hall like a torrent.

The screams of the nobles ceased abruptly in the energy; their bodies were torn apart in an instant, blood and flesh mingling with dust, as if they had never existed.

Count Coruscant's eyes were filled with fear and despair as his body gradually dissipated in the crimson energy, eventually turning into nothingness.

On the streets, the Sarkaz's Blood Demon Familiars surged into every corner of Wolumond like a tidal wave.

Their figures flickered in the night, their weapons spitting fire, utterly destroying any resistance.

Old military policeman Roy crouched behind the arrow sack, watching everything unfold before him, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes. He slowly stood up, raised his hands, and shouted to the Sarkaz soldiers in the distance.

"We surrender! Surrender and retreat!"

His voice echoed in the night sky, carrying a sense of relief and liberation.

The Sarkaz soldiers did not humiliate him; they simply confiscated his weapons and took him to a prisoner-of-war camp.

This scene played out repeatedly in every corner of the city. The soldiers of Letania went from being full of confidence to being terrified in less than half a day.

Meanwhile, flames slowly rose throughout the entire Wolumond, announcing the fall of the "eighth moon" of the Winterspire Mountains.

Meanwhile, the electors in the capital of Letania were anxiously awaiting news from the front.

When they learned that Wolumonde had been attacked and had fallen within just a few hours, everyone's faces turned extremely grim.

"This...how is this possible?"

The Elector of Fordgang muttered to himself as his wine glass fell to the ground and shattered.

"Where's our phonograph? Where's our magic? Why didn't it work?"

"The phonograph... has been destroyed."

A messenger reported, trembling.

"The other party is a king of the royal court... I don't know what methods he used to appear in the city."

"They are too strong; our defenses simply cannot stop them."

A deathly silence fell over the council chamber.

Upon hearing the words "Lord of the Royal Court," the Elector swallowed hard.

"Pass on my order: transfer all the legions from the northern defense line to the front lines!!"

"Then...what about Ursus..."

"Ursus, Ursus, is all you think about are those stupid bears? They're too busy cleaning up their own house to even think about it!"

"What time is it? Who cares about Ursus! Those demon bastards are practically punching us in the face!"

"Notify the other electors to quickly redeploy their troops!! Activate the city's defensive structures!!"

"And another thing!! We must immediately request help from Victoria!!"

"The Elector of Fordgang roared," he said, and just as he was about to explode with rage, a messenger of the Scourge rushed in carrying a map.

"Your Excellency!! Something terrible has happened!! A massive celestial cloud has suddenly gathered on the border of Letania!"

At this moment, the Elector of Fordgang was so frustrated he felt like he was going to vomit blood.

One problem after another, right?

With a dark expression, he took the map from the messenger, opened it, and was immediately stunned.

Because the direction in which the calamity cloud gathered was exactly the direction in which the demons were preparing to march. If the enemy was preparing for a large-scale march, they would definitely not be able to overcome this calamity in a short period of time.

He couldn't help laughing.

"Ha ha ha ha!!"

"This is truly divine intervention!! It seems even the heavens are against those wicked demons!!"

"Fortunately, their army needs to bypass a mountain range to reach our Letanian territory, so we still have time to prepare a great gift for them!!"

"Hmph, even if Corsica leads the Gallic army back again this time, they'll have to stay put for a while!"

"Those demons, they can't just roll over the mountains, can they?"

……

The warship is traveling at high speed.

What Shen Lin had placed in front of him was a fragment of the Golden Melody that had been seized from Syracuse.

After reading the entire fragment, Shen Lin gained a deeper understanding of Letania's Originium Arts and their use of power.

This is only a fragment. The complete Golden Melody would be a knowledge framework that allows one to access the threshold of the power of origin.

"The Golden Melody... can indeed be considered profound."

"But it's still not enough."

Perhaps for the Terrans, the threshold to accessing the power of the Origins is already an insurmountable divine realm.

However, for Shen Lin, unless it involves the actual use of the power of origin, it won't significantly improve his abilities.

In truth, even if Shen Lin were to output his own power through bloodline witchcraft, the utilization rate would be pitifully low; he was simply using his strength to send bricks flying.

Since he obtained [Power: Reign], there have been few spellcasting systems that have been able to unleash his full power.

Even though he hasn't shown his full strength yet and is virtually unmatched, Shen Lin still feels it's not perfect at this moment.

So how can we unleash his full potential?

Is it to create a spell system that can contain his power?

Or should we forge an unparalleled Originium staff?

Or is it……

Shen Lin silently asked himself this question.

"report!"

A sudden report interrupted his thoughts, and he slightly raised his eyes.

Therese rushed into the command center, a look of anxiety on his face.

"Your Highness... a celestial cloud has suddenly gathered ahead, and the energy reaction within it is extremely terrifying!"

"Our tanks and warships can no longer advance!"

Shen Lin frowned slightly and followed Theresis onto the ship's deck.

The sky was dark and gloomy, with dark clouds covering the top, making it seem as if the entire sky was about to fall down, which gave people an inexplicable sense of oppression.

The Sarkaz forces halted at the border of Letania, where a towering mountain range stretched out before them, like a natural barrier blocking their path.

The mountains soared into the clouds, their steep cliffs as if carved by a knife and axe, making them difficult even for the most elite scouts to climb.

The tank tracks screeched on the rugged mountain road, and the warship's engines roared at the foot of the mountain, but they could not move forward any further.

"Your Highness, according to the reconnaissance team, this mountain range stretches for thousands of miles."

"Our tank and naval forces have difficulty getting through this mountain range."

"Now we have no choice but to take a detour, but... this natural disaster cloud has gathered right on our only road, so we must retreat to a place two kilometers away to rest."

"According to the messenger's report, our main force... is expected to arrive in the city of Letania in about two weeks."

The group looked at each other, their faces filled with anxiety and helplessness.

Two weeks means that Letania's defenses will have more time to assemble, and they may even be able to wait for Victoria's reinforcements.

The situation in this war may change dramatically as a result.

"Two weeks...that's too long."

"However, if we don't take a detour, we simply cannot get through this mountain range."

Just then, Shen Lin's voice came from beside Theresis.

"Theresis, lend me your sword."

Upon hearing this, although Therese didn't understand what Shen Lin was going to do, he quickly handed over the sword at his waist.

The sword gleamed with a cold, sharp light, and the Originium embedded in the hilt shimmered with a faint glow.

Shen Lin took the sword, his fingers gently tracing the blade, as if feeling its weight and sharpness.

His gaze remained calm, yet it held an indescribable depth.