Chapter 331: Chapter 289: [Operation Defrost], Shery Mountain Search, Attack, and Retreat

Before Basso could even make out what that silhouette was, another piercing shriek rang out. This sound was even sharper, like a spear slicing through the air, followed by a deafening explosion.

BOOM—!

Basso stared, dumbfounded, at the thick smoke billowing from the direction of his stronghold. His mind went blank. Then, he heard the roar of the moody Priest stationed in the stronghold.

"Who’s there! How dare you—"

But before he could finish, a series of shrieks and explosions drowned out the Priest’s pathetic rage.

Then, he saw it. A comet glowing with white light descended from the sky, and in its wake, several "iron boxes" crashed down.

BOOM! RUMBLE—!

Basso didn’t know what the explosions were, nor what the comet and the iron boxes were. But he knew one thing: their stronghold was finished!

He scrambled desperately on all fours, fleeing away from the stronghold. He had only one thought: ’Survive!’

Meanwhile, the instigator of this attack was, of course, unaware that a small fish had slipped through the net.

But in truth, even if he had known, he wouldn’t have cared.

Fine particles of frost condensed on the Crystal Armor in the biting cold, only to be shattered by the gale whipped up by a swing of [Broken Abyss].

Jon shattered the ice underfoot as he stood up straight. A few Eternal Frost Cultists who panicked and stumbled into his attack range were instantly turned into ice sculptures by the aftershock of his Sword Qi.

The next moment, these humanoid ice sculptures collapsed under the Impact effect of Broken Abyss. Shattered ice mixed with specks of crystalline red splattered across the frozen ground, raising the curtain on a prelude to slaughter.

The pale comet Basso saw tearing through the sky was none other than Jon himself, having activated his [Dragon Flame Dance · Ice] form.

And those "iron boxes" were [Walker · Annihilator-types] he had specially modified for this very "Operation De-Frost."

These blocky iron lumps crashed through the simple structures of ice and frozen rock, propelled by their own immense weight.

The moment they hit the ground, their heavy outer shells popped open in all directions with a sharp hydraulic hiss, flipping and reassembling!

Cold metal joints stretched and scraped together, making a cringe-inducing clicking sound.

Within seconds, the iron boxes—originally a meter square—transformed into killing Mechanical Bodies nearly two men tall, equipped with spider-like mechanical legs and turreted weapon modules.

Their crimson monocular sensors swiveled, scanning the area before instantly locking onto every living creature in sight clad in deep blue burlap robes.

"THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!"

The light Explosive Bomb Launchers were the first to let out a dull, deadly roar.

Carrot-sized, cone-shaped bombs trailed smoke as they precisely burrowed into the ranks of fleeing cultists or slammed into crumbling ice walls.

And then—

"BOOM! BOOM! BOOM—!"

A dense wave of explosions erupted, sending scorching metal shrapnel and chunks of frozen earth flying into the air!

Severed limbs were flung high into the air by the shockwaves. The stench of burning flesh and blood instantly overpowered the perpetual scent of frost. Terrified screams were swallowed by the even more frequent explosions the moment they were uttered.

Some fanatical cultists hadn’t lost their will to fight and tried to use the terrain as cover for a counterattack. But what followed the bombs was an even more despair-inducing hum.

"WHIRRRRR—!"

The rapid-fire nail guns began their death song.

A torrent of steel nails, as dense as a rainstorm, poured from the rotating barrels of the Mechanical Bodies, forming a visible, churning metal storm.

They effortlessly tore through the burlap robes, pierced the hastily-formed thin ice Shields, and pinned the fleeing figures to the frozen earth and ice walls.

Blood rapidly congealed into dirty, dark-red icicles in the freezing air. The crimson mono-eyes of the Mechanical Bodies remained impassive as their torsos efficiently rotated, mercilessly sweeping the stream of steel across every corner where someone tried to crawl or hide.

In this Domain of death, woven from explosions and Penetration, any mortal below Knight Level was as fragile as a blade of dry grass in a Blizzard.

Jon’s gaze swept briefly over the efficient killing field before settling on the dust and smoke ahead.

In this stronghold, there was only one prey worthy of his personal attention.

The stagnant ice fog was violently ripped apart by a furious power.

A giant of a man in a deep blue Priest’s Robe charged out, roaring. His glistening bald head reflected the pale daylight with a greasy sheen, and his knotted muscles threatened to rip through the heavy cloth.

His eyes were crimson like burning coals, veins bulging on his thick arms. He locked onto the figure in Crystal Armor amidst the ice and dust. ’I will tear the intruder who dared desecrate the Eternal Frost Saint Land to pieces!’

"Desecrator! The wrath of Candela will crush your insignificant—!"

Jon’s only response, however, was a cold, humorless laugh.

"Save your breath."

His voice cut through the lingering echoes of the explosions, laced with condescending mockery.

"Your god can’t hear you."

Before his words had even faded, an ice-blue light erupted from the depths of Jon’s pupils!

[Dragon Might Burst]!

The very air seemed to instantly freeze, transforming into an invisible, crushing mountain that bore down with the immense pressure of an ancient, true dragon.

In an instant, the intangible frost energy materialized into a palpable pressure, making the frozen earth beneath his feet groan and crack under the strain.

The bald Priest’s furious roar came to an abrupt halt.

His burly frame trembled violently. His crimson eyes lost their focus, and his mind went blank, leaving only a deep, instinctual terror that stemmed from the very core of his Life.

Compared to any physical harm, the Spirit damage from this attack was far more severe.

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