As opposed to the madness at the northern gate, things at the eastern gate were a lot calmer, if one could call it that. Where the northern gate was a stampede of screaming players, collapsing defenses, massive explosions, and Aurora treating mass destruction like a ballet performance…

…the eastern gate was silent.

Right at the moment, everyone was witnessing a calm yet shocking scene at the eastern gate.

Damon sat cross-legged atop a colossal lotus made entirely of condensed venom and blood, each petal shimmering with a sheen that promised instant death to anything mortal.

Around him, thousands of lotus buds surrounded him in perfect concentric circles. Each one pulsed with dense, toxic mana, swelling with grotesque grace as they awaited their moment to bloom.

The poisonous miasma spreading from him rolled across the battlefield like a fog of doom, thick, heavy, and alive. It was spreading far too quickly and taking down along with it anyone and everyone in its path.

Players watching the livestream fell into stunned silence. What the hell was this power difference? How were they supposed to win a war like this? Heck, was their entire guild even capable of mounting an assault on this scale?

Hundreds and thousands of NPCs and Nine Rivers city guild members fell one after another, collapsing like wheat before a scythe. And the horrifying part? They didn't fall with screams. They didn't fall with dramatic effects. They simply… dropped.

Their deaths were quiet and instant. The moment the miasma touched them, their HP bars evaporated as if they'd never existed. Guild healers panicked. "Why aren't our heals working?!"

The NPC frontline, normally stalwart and disciplined, broke formation immediately.

"Retreat!"

"Get away from the mist!"

"Don't breathe! Don't even touch it!!"

But the fog rolled out faster than their legs could carry them. There was no stopping it. Many even tried attacking the very air around them, but this only made the poison spread faster and wider.

And at the center of it all, Damon remained perfectly still, perfectly peaceful, perfectly terrifying. As if he were cultivating in a garden made of corpses and poison. His eyes were fully closed as he focused on all the lotus blooms around him.

At the same time, he was absorbing massive amounts of blood essence from all the fallen corpses. He did not even have to lift a finger to cause all the chaos around him. He also did not care about the pace of the war. He was a lot more focused on the lotus blooms and how his poison had split up into different types.

Inside his soul space, his two blood avatars were also busy gaining insight from the war. While research was producing some results, there was nothing like actual execution and massive homicide that propelled the understanding of the poison arts.

At the same time, he wasn't entirely passive as well. After the trip to the Umbra's legacy world, he had made shocking progress in many skills, and one such skill was his shadow clone ability.

He was now able to command ten shadow clones, and his overall shadow control had also improved by leaps and bounds. Also, his shadows were now able to use shadow energy in ways he couldn't even dream of a month ago.

They no longer behaved like crude extensions of his will. They moved like predators. They struck like assassins. They used shadows to clutch and rip apart even D-ranked players easily. They were still unable to use his poison abilities since those were directly linked to his Nine Million Poisons body, but they were now able to use a lot more of his skills.

They dove in and out of the battlefield like living nightmares using Shadow Step. Each clone was a flickering silhouette with a mind of its own, weaving through the miasma with impossible precision, appearing behind distracted players, shredding NPC captains, collapsing formation nodes, and dragging bodies into the lotus field for Damon's blood avatars to consume.

Everyone was utterly speechless as they could only dumbly watch the madness unfold. How were they supposed to fight an enemy like this? There was only one man, and he was slowly taking over the city at his own pace.

How were they supposed to fight in a situation like this? There was no army clashing against another army. There was only a one-sided massacre and takeover.

Well, in reality, the entire damn city was technically turning into a damned wasteland. This was no longer a freaking war. This was a natural disaster. What else were they supposed to do other than vacate the damn premises?

A few of the C-ranked experts tried their best. They joined together in all sorts of formations and came at Damon with protective golden barriers that at least partly kept the poisonous miasma out, but these brave souls were instantly taken care of.

Even calling them "brave" felt wrong. It was bravery only in the sense that walking into a volcanic eruption with a wooden umbrella was bravery.

The moment the C-rank experts charged, dozens of shadow clones and shadow beasts rose from the ground like nightmares given permission to breathe. The golden barriers flickered as they pushed through the miasma, sparks of holy radiance crackling against the toxic fog.

For a brief moment, they looked like they might actually make progress. Then the shadows moved. And that hope died a violent death.

SHRRRIP!!

A shadow beast erupted from beneath one expert's feet, jaws made of nothing but darkness and malice, clamping onto him with a wet crunch. The man struggled for an instant before several more beasts latched onto him, attacking him from all sides, completely overwhelming him.

Another tried to shield his allies with a radiant dome and erect his domain when one shadow clone stepped behind him, and ran a shadow blade through his spine.

A third expert swung an enchanted greatsword, screaming with desperate fury when a shadow clone caught the blade with its hand. The next second, many shadow beasts appeared and started tearing him apart.

The expert's face drained of color.

"S-shit! How?!"

The clone tilted its head in Damon's exact manner. Then it drove its fist through the man's chest, shadow tendrils exploding outward like blooming midnight flowers.

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