Limitless Cultivation: I Can Master Every Profession!-Chapter 242: Calamity 11

[Qinglan Empire]

The situation in the elven empire was no better than that of the other empires,

since here as well, just like in the other two, a large part of the kingdom’s forces had departed on the expedition, leaving only a few experts behind.

Of course, considering the number and level of these experts, almost no situation should have posed a real problem, but what they were facing now was something far beyond anyone’s predictions.

Toward the northwestern borders of the Qinglan Empire, a fierce battle was unfolding between the empire’s defensive forces and the enemy’s monstrous army.

Needless to say, the overwhelming number of enemies was slowly overpowering the elven forces, and even a Spirit Realm expert was having a hard time against his opponent, the leader of this monstrous horde,

a corrupted being, with an appearance resembling a strange creature, a twisted mix of humanoid form, shriveled and distorted, with unnaturally long limbs and wrinkled skin that looked more like bark than flesh.

Entirely dark, shrouded in a deep crimson aura, it emitted an invisible yet powerful and oppressive pressure, a force the elven defender could not endure no matter what he tried.

At this moment, he was suspended in midair, his body in terrible condition, clearly, he had already gone through a brutal battle. Yet his determined expression was fixed on the enemy before him, who, unlike him, did not seem to be struggling at all.

It was impossible to discern any real expression from the enemy, as the creature itself was bizarre by nature.

That said, this was certainly the least of the elven defender’s problems, as he now faced a situation he no longer knew how to resolve.

He was one of the youngest Spirit Realm cultivators of the elven empire, and at the peak of the first stage at that.

Among his peers, he stood out clearly, and if he had been given enough time to grow, he might have surpassed even many of his elders who had reached higher stages.

For many, his current level was already a dream come true, but for him, it was not enough.

He wanted more.

He did not want to stop at this point. He refused to settle, because he knew that sense of satisfaction and fulfillment was exactly what prevented many from pushing further.

That said, no matter how immense his determination was, the opponent’s strength was even greater, crushing him with every exchange of blows.

By now, he was at the very limit of his strength, one arm missing, his future growing darker and slipping further away as he felt death drawing closer.

His frustration kept growing, darker thoughts creeping into his mind as he wondered whether, through his sacrifice, he might still fulfill his duty and protect the empire from this looming threat.

So many lives had already been lost, and if he fell, many more would follow.

This realization, combined with his inability to overcome the situation, triggered a storm of conflicting emotions within him. Yet there was little he could do, so he began preparing his desperate move, holding onto the faint hope of taking the enemy down with him.

He had already moved far away from the main battlefield, and now he was in an area where only he and the enemy remained, along with a few corrupted beasts, a perfect place to drag the enemy and its followers into the grave.

The latter, sensing a strange fluctuation of energy from his opponent, looked at him, its empty eye sockets filled with dark energy that seemed to stare directly into the elf’s soul.

Feeling the enemy’s gaze upon him, the elven warrior sensed, for the first time since the battle had begun, a faint trace of emotion coming from the enemy,

curiosity, interest, but stronger than anything else, mockery.

It was clear, the other side was looking down on him.

This felt like a double blow to the elven warrior, who, with every trace of hesitation erased, detonated his dantian.

Boom!

The distance separating them was less than fifty meters, and an explosion of that magnitude spread for hundreds of meters in all directions, engulfing the enemy in the blink of an eye. He did not bother closing the distance and instead immediately detonated his dantian.

The explosion was sudden and swift.

One instant before, the world was still there.

The next, everything was swallowed by blinding light and a wave of absolute destruction.

The energy of the dantian, compressed beyond every limit, burst outward like a dying star. Space itself seemed to bend as the explosion expanded, erasing everything within its radius.

The ground was lifted and shattered, trees at the edges were uprooted and pulverized, and the air exploded with a roar so violent it made the entire region tremble.

At the heart of that inferno, the traces of life of all corrupted creatures on the battlefield were extinguished one after another.

They vanished like flames exposed to a storm.

The elven warrior felt those extinctions even as his consciousness was torn apart piece by piece.

’I wasn’t strong enough.’

Regret pierced what remained of his mind.

Not for death itself, but for the path left untaken, for the long road toward strength he had failed to walk to the very end.

If only he had had more time.If only he had been more resolute.If only he had pushed himself without ever yielding, not for a single moment.

Then his body gave in.

When the energy dissipated, a gigantic, blackened, smoking crater remained at the center of the battlefield, as if a meteor had struck the earth.

Very little remained of the elven warrior.

The lower half of his body was completely gone.

One arm was gone, the other reduced to an unrecognizable mass of flesh and bone; half of his face destroyed, one eye completely obliterated.

Only the other, still functioned, staring out with a struggle against the inevitable.

It moved slowly, with an effort beyond every limit, and cast one final glance at the world he was about to leave behind.

And that was when he saw it.

’No...’

Less than ten meters away.

The corrupted creature was still there.

Half of its body had been erased by the explosion, but from what remained, dark filaments were extending outward, resembling roots or living veins.

They sprouted from the remaining flesh, twisting and intertwining as they reconstructed what had been shattered.

The sight hit him with the force of a crushing blow, far sharper than any physical injury.

In that instant, the elven warrior understood that his sacrifice had been in vain.

He had not stopped the enemy.

He had not even slowed it down.

The small hope of dealing a decisive blow to the enemy through his sacrifice was extinguished in that moment.

His eye trembled, then slowly closed, as a broken breath escaped his mutilated chest.

Death was coming.

But in that very instant, something changed.

The surroundings shifted imperceptibly. The atmosphere, oppressive and violent just moments before, became gentler, warmer. A sense of calm, of comfort, enveloped what remained of his body.

No pain.

No fear.

Only peace.

’Maybe...’ he thought hazily.

’Maybe this is how it feels when you die.’

And then, he heard it.

A female voice, gentle and clear.

Calm, reassuring.

A voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

"It is time to wake up,

Qīng Zǔ."