"No! I object! We cannot use artillery strikes!" Charles walked up to the screen, wearing an expression of compassionate sorrow.
"Captain Marc, you are blinded by anger. Heavy artillery is undoubtedly powerful, but what if it enrages that Monarch-class and causes it to shift its target to the Lighthouse? Who will bear that responsibility?"
Charles turned around, facing all the administrators present.
"Attacking rashly is a gamble."
He paused, his gaze finally landing on Marc, his tone turning heavy and "earnest."
"At this moment, our safest option is to dispatch our most elite Hunter squad deep into the frontlines to scout and, if necessary... attempt to divert the beast horde."
"Divert? You call that diverting?" Marc laughed out of sheer fury. "Charles, take a good look at what that is! That is a Monarch-class Pola Beast! It's a natural disaster! You're sending the Hunters to their deaths!"
"For the survival of the Lighthouse, someone must make a sacrifice," Charles raised his voice.
"Furthermore, the Lord of Light and Shadow will bless those brave souls. Are you going to let your personal cowardice allow that monster to destroy our last home?"
"Do you not believe in the power of the Lord of Light and Shadow?"
The surrounding higher-ups began to whisper among themselves; Charles's words had moved them.
Safety was above all else.
Sacrifices were necessary, especially since they wouldn't be the ones making them.
Marc felt countless gazes fixated on him. Those looks were a mixture of fear, suspicion, and a stirred-up sense of "righteousness."
He had somehow become the sinner hindering the Lighthouse's "survival."
"You!" Marc clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"Enough."
The old City Lord, Morgan, finally spoke up. He rubbed his temples wearily, his gaze shifting back and forth between the screen, Marc, and Charles.
He could see right through Charles's schemes.
Those words had undoubtedly put Marc in the hot seat. Going meant near-certain death; not going meant being labeled a coward, which would shake his prestige among the Hunters and the public.
What a vicious psychological trap.
However, he also didn't dare gamble the fate of the entire Lighthouse on whether heavy artillery would be effective against a Monarch-class Pola Beast.
Ultimately, the old City Lord made a compromise.
"Marc," the old City Lord's voice returned to a calm state. "Although Charles's words are somewhat biased, they hold some truth. We really are out of time."
He paused, his tone growing heavy.
"However, sending you to face a Monarch-class Pola Beast is suicide. We will not make such a decision."
A flash of disappointment crossed Charles's eyes, but he quickly concealed it.
"But," the old City Lord changed the subject, "we must send out a squad to observe the beast horde from a distance and buy time for the Lighthouse to evade."
He looked at Marc, his eyes filled with trust and a sense of entrustment.
"Marc, I need you to lead your elite Hunters to execute this mission."
In truth, this was still practically a suicide mission.
Marc looked at the old City Lord, then glanced at the massive red dot on the screen representing the Monarch-class.
He had no choice. "Yes, City Lord."
He gave a crisp salute and turned to leave.
Watching Marc's retreating back, the smile resurfaced on Charles's lips.
Regardless of the process, the result would be the same. Marc, you are dead meat.
Afterward, the City Lord turned to the technicians on the other side.
"Put the artillery systems on standby. Lock onto the center of the beast horde and prepare to fire at any moment."
...
Meanwhile, in Area 47, the eye of the storm.
Ian looked up at the Monarch-class Pola Beast rising from the edge of the horizon, as massive as a mountain range.
Countless scarlet eyes on the monster's body were locked dead onto him, revealing extreme greed and thirst.
The Life Source Essence and emotional fluctuations radiating from his body were the ultimate feast in this barren wasteland.
The smile on Ian's face grew even brighter. "Finally, a decent toy has arrived."
He raised his hand toward the behemoth and crooked his finger.
Roar—!
The Monarch-class Pola Beast was thoroughly enraged by this tiny creature's provocation.
Its response to Ian was an attack that blotted out the sky.
The Monarch-class Pola Beast leaped violently. Hundreds of bone-like tentacles, resembling massive siege hammers, tore through the air and smashed toward Ian with devastating force.
Ian didn't dodge or evade. In the instant the first tentacle was about to crash down, he raised the Chainsword in his hand.
Buzz—!
The blade spun at high speed as he casually swung it upward.
Clang! A crisp sound rang out.
That immense force capable of easily pulverizing a small hill, along with the tentacle that could effortlessly crush steel, was severed the moment it touched the Chainsword.
Immediately after came the second, the third, the hundredth...
Countless massive tentacles launched a torrential assault, only to be effortlessly sliced apart by Ian wielding his Chainsword.
The intense, incomprehensible contrast caused this Monarch-class Pola Beast—a creature that only knew destruction and devouring—to experience an emotion called "confusion" for the very first time.
It couldn't understand.
Why were its mighty strength and hardened tentacles completely ineffective against this tiny creature before it?
It increased the frequency and power of its attacks. More tentacles burst from its body, whipping and piercing with wild abandon.
Ian weaved through the gaps in the onslaught, the Chainsword transforming into a bloody afterimage in his hands.
Every swing severed a tentacle.
Slash!
One massive tentacle after another was chopped off at the root, dark green blood gushing out like a waterfall.
The ordinary Pola Beasts charging along the way were casually hacked to death by Ian. The flames attached to the blade ignited their corpses, turning them into fireballs as they collapsed to the ground.
The battle presented a completely one-sided trend.
After cutting off nearly half of the enemy's tentacles, Ian seemed to lose his patience.
He tapped his foot lightly, his entire body transforming into a streak of light as he shot into the sky.
He leaped to a height level with the Monarch-class Pola Beast's head.
"Let's end this."
He raised the Chainsword, the blade's rotation speed skyrocketing to its absolute limit.
A bloody energy blade several meters long erupted from the Chainsword, radiating an endless aura of slaughter and destruction.
Then, he swung the sword down.
Riiiip—! Accompanied by a soft tearing sound.
That colossal Monarch-class Pola Beast, with its mountain-like body, was cleave perfectly in two.
The two halves of the corpse slowly collapsed to either side, kicking up a sky full of dust.
A massive influx of EMC surged in, causing Ian's EMC reserves to skyrocket.
Following the Monarch's death, the tens of thousands of Pola Beasts surrounding the area instinctively felt fear and halted in their tracks.
Ian landed slowly, his gaze sweeping over this field of "wealth."
He grinned, then extended his right hand. Consuming EMC, a scarlet Red Matter Katar appeared in his grasp.
Next, he casually threw a punch at the empty air in front of him.
The air seemed to freeze, and all the trembling Pola Beasts appeared to be rooted to the spot.
In the next instant, with him at the epicenter, the bodies of all Pola Beasts within a radius of several kilometers began to uncontrollably twist and rupture.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Blood and internal organs were squeezed out of their bodies, exploding into clouds of blood mist.
Aside from a few massive, high-level Pola Beasts that could still struggle in agony, the rest of the Pola Beasts were instantly killed.
This area instantly became much quieter.