The wasteland soil had been soft, but in that instant, Lu Cen felt every grain of dust beneath his feet transform into heavy, liquid lead. A dull explosion rumbled through the air as the spatial pressure spiked, violently displacing the thin aether.
[System Crimson Alert: Spatial self-destruct array aftershock detected. Current local gravity: 5.0G.]
[Warning: Host's lung capacity is reaching critical pressure. Suggest switching to "Overload Internal Circulation Mode."]
Lu Cen felt his bones let out an agonizing grinding sound, as if someone had filled his joints with rusted iron filings. He slammed onto one knee, mud spraying everywhere as his five-times-heavier body carved two deep craters into the earth.
"Ugh..."
Beside him, Sylvie let out a pained shriek. Beneath her delicate skin, crimson mana lines surged like panicked vipers. Under the crushing 5.0G weight, her already chaotic mana circuits went into total meltdown, and beads of blood began to seep through her pores.
"Hold on," Lu Cen growled. "Don't let the mana detonate."
He forced himself to stand against the mountain-like pressure. The muscles in his arms bulged in hard ripples, his skin taking on a dark-gold metallic luster. He reached out with a massive hand and clamped it firmly onto Sylvie's back.
Sylvie looked up, trembling. She saw Lu Cen's chest heaving violently, his breath sounding like the roar of a massive bellows.
[System Notification: Detection of aether waste accumulation within the target.]
[Physical First Aid Protocol: Initiate energy pressure release via high-frequency muscle vibration.]
The moment Lu Cen's palm pressed against Sylvie's spine, she felt a violent yet rhythmic vibration surge through her body.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
It was Lu Cen's heartbeat. In that dead, rain-soaked wasteland, his pulse was staggering, each beat echoing in her ears like the war drums of a titan. With this rhythmic physical shock, the unstable red light on Sylvie's skin was forcibly suppressed and drawn back into her body.
Is he... physically absorbing my backlash? Sylvie's pupils shrunk. She could see wisps of black smoke rising from Lu Cen's fingertips—the byproduct of high energy being physically neutralized. It was a bizarre sensation; unlike the warmth of magical healing, this was a cold, direct, and brutal mechanical extraction.
"It's too fast... your mana circuits are collapsing," Lu Cen gritted his teeth, a trace of silver blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.
[Mini-Twist: Host is currently enduring the backlash of "Sanctified Waste." Stamina limit temporarily breached at 120%!]
Instead of being crushed, the terrifying five-fold gravity became a "hydraulic press" that condensed Lu Cen's muscle density. Through the dual tempering of extreme pressure and mana shock, his body was undergoing an unprecedented reconstruction.
Suddenly, a faint rustle of grass came from the distance. Three mages in grey robes and faceless metal masks emerged silently from the shadows. The tips of their staves didn't glow with elemental light; instead, blades of near-transparent physical force condensed from mana slid out.
"Storage Pile 07. Destroy if capture fails," the leader rasped. He raised his staff, locking onto Lu Cen as a dark stream of light condensed. "Fatal Curse: Soul Wither!"
The black light streaked through the gravity field with a rotting stench, aiming straight for the back of Lu Cen's skull.
Sylvie screamed, "Watch out!"
Lu Cen didn't even turn his head. He took a deep breath, and his entire muscular system vibrated at a frequency so high it reached self-resonance. The silver veins on his skin flared with blinding intensity.
CLANG!
The curse, designed to shrivel the soul of a High-Tier mage, struck Lu Cen's back and let out a sharp metallic ring. The black light didn't penetrate; instead, it acted as if it had struck an indestructible mirror. Because Lu Cen's physical density had reached a "singularity," a bizarre phenomenon occurred: Physical Refraction.
Whoosh!
The curse snapped back along its original trajectory. Before the masked leader could react, he was pierced through the heart by his own magic. In an instant, his body withered, blackened, and crumbled into a pile of ash.
The remaining two assassins froze, their staves letting out a mournful hum. Lu Cen stood up slowly. With every step, the gravity field beneath his feet seemed to be pulverized by his sheer weight.
"Now," Lu Cen rumbled. "It's my turn."
Lu Cen's figure vanished from where he stood. It wasn't teleportation, but pure, raw explosive power achieving speeds beyond the limit of human sight.
CRACK!
Lu Cen's hand clamped around an assassin's neck. Before a scream could escape, the throat was crushed. Using the momentum, he snatched the man's staff and twisted his hands, snapping the priceless magical instrument like a dry twig. He glared at the last mage attempting to flee and hurled the broken half of the staff with a violent flick. Under the five-fold gravity, the staff broke the sound barrier with a sharp crack, instantly impaling the runner through the spine.
Lu Cen walked over to the last corpse, the silver light beneath his left index finger pulsing restlessly. He knelt and pulled back the assassin's sleeve. His eyes narrowed.
Trapped beneath the man's fingernails was dark, reddish soil. Lu Cen knew that scent and color all too well. It was the corrupted earth from the ancestral graveyard of the Ducal House—a forbidden ground where only the "Gravekeepers" were permitted to step.
"The House of Lu..." Lu Cen whispered to himself, his eyes brimming with a murderous chill. Since the Ducal House was so eager to reclaim him as their "vessel," it was only right that he prepared a grand gift for them.
[System Notification: Extreme Limit Academy module loading: 5%... First suitable "Assistant Teacher" candidate identified.]
Lu Cen turned back to look at Sylvie, who was huddled on the ground, staring at him with pure terror. She instinctively shrank away, realizing that the Lu Cen before her was more of a monster than the ones he had just killed.
In the distance, behind them, a rhythmic metallic knocking suddenly echoed from deep within the wreckage of the crashed airship.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
It sounded like a heart trapped in an iron shell, preparing to burst forth.