Novel Full Chapter 1494 One Point
Chapter 1494 One Point
He knew why.
It just wasn’t enough.
The punch was the same principle as the dwarven bombardment. Broad impact. Wide surface area. The lattice had dozens of nodes beneath his fist to grab onto, dozens of connection points to redistribute mana through. He’d hit in a smaller area than any bombard, but the barrier responded the same way it responded to artillery. Absorb. Redistribute. Heal.
He needed to compress further. Concentrate the force into a point so small that the lattice couldn’t reinforce it before the penetration was completed.
And he needed to accelerate faster.
[Mana: 1,436… 1,803… 2,241… 2,698…]
He waited. The cold didn’t bother him. He let his body recover while the numbers climbed.
[Mana: 2,698… 3,102… 3,487… 3,819…]
[Mana: 3,881]
Quinlan’s lips split into a grin behind the helmet. His body ached. His arm screamed. His pathways burned.
Let’s try it one more time.
He closed his eyes.
This time, he didn’t just flood his body with lightning. He wove it into himself.
The current started at his heart. He fed it into his bloodstream, letting the electrical charge ride the flow of blood through every artery, every vein, every capillary. It branched outward from his core in a web of white-violet energy that mapped his circulatory system in glowing lines beneath the armor.
Then deeper.
He pushed the current past his blood and into his muscle fibers. Each strand received its own charge, its own signal to contract. His muscles didn’t just activate. They synchronized. Every fiber in his body aligned into a single direction, a single purpose, a single explosive action.
Then deeper still.
Into his bones. Into the marrow. The lightning saturated the calcium and iron in his skeleton, turning his frame into a conductor that hummed with stored charge. His teeth buzzed. His spine vibrated. The armor around him crackled and popped as stray arcs discharged from the joints, unable to contain what was building inside.
His mana plummeted.
[Mana: 3,881 ➣ 3,302]
He wasn’t even moving yet.
The charge was immense. His entire body was a loaded weapon, every cell primed, every pathway screaming with more current than they’d ever carried. The Abyssal Genesis Physique held the channels open. Without it, his nervous system would have burned out in the first second.
With it, he held.
Barely.
Quinlan opened his eyes.
White-violet light poured from behind his visor, so bright it cast shadows on the clouds around him. His armor was alive with arcs, hundreds of tiny bolts racing across the plates in frantic patterns. The air within five meters of his body ionized, splitting into ozone and heat, creating a visible halo of distortion.
He looked down at the anthill.
And dropped.
The acceleration was beyond anything he’d done before. Saying that his ‘body fell’ would be wrong.
It detonated downward. Every cell fired at once. Every muscle contracted in the same instant. The lightning in his blood, his bones, his marrow, all of it converted into kinetic force in a single catastrophic release.
The sonic boom that followed shattered the cloud layer.
[Mana: 3,302 ➣ 2,519]
The sky screamed. Air compressed beneath him into a cone so dense it glowed white. He was a comet. A bolt of lightning shaped like a man, burning through the atmosphere at a speed that turned the world into a blur of light and noise.
Whisperfield expanded beneath him. The barrier grew from a shimmer to a dome to a wall of golden light rushing up to meet him.
The defenders saw him coming.
Arrows launched. Spells fired. Ballista bolts arced upward. The sky between Quinlan and the barrier was filled with steel and magic.
None of it mattered.
At this speed, the arrows didn’t hit him. They disintegrated. The compressed air around his body was a furnace of friction and force, and anything that entered the cone was torn apart before it touched his armor. Shafts splintered. Arrowheads liquefied. Mage bolts struck the distortion field and scattered into harmless sparks.
[Mana: 2,519 ➣ 2,007]
He pulled his right fist back.
Lightning coalesced around the gauntlet. The same compression as before. Electricity collapsing inward, concentrating, densifying. The metal glowed white, then brighter, then beyond white into a color that had no name.
[Mana: 2,007 ➣ 1,261]
Then he compressed further.
The lightning crawled from his fist to his fingers. From his fingers to his index finger. From his index finger to its tip. All that force. All that speed. All that mana. Collapsing into a single point.
[Mana: 1,261 ➣ 574]
A star ignited on his fingertip.
His pathways tore.
The channels in his right arm ruptured under the density. He felt them go, one by one, like strings snapping inside his forearm. The pain was white-hot and absolute. His hand should have disintegrated. The bones in his finger cracked, then fractured, the structure failing under a charge it was never meant to contain.
The Abyssal Genesis Physique fought back. It held the bones together by force, mana flooding into the fractures, buying seconds that his body didn’t have.
[Mana: 574 ➣ 1]
The barrier was right there.
Quinlan extended one finger.
And touched the apex of the dome.
For a single, frozen moment, the entire world went quiet.
The lattice beneath his fingertip flared white. The node tried to redistribute. Mana rushed in from every direction, flooding toward the contact point, trying to reinforce, trying to heal, trying to do what it had always done.
But the contact point was a needle.
And the force behind it was a thunderbolt.
The node vaporized.
The discharge was instantaneous.
Every scrap of compressed lightning, every joule of electrical charge that Quinlan had woven into his blood and bones and marrow, was released through a single fingertip in a single instant. A pillar of white-violet light erupted downward from the apex of the dome and punched through the barrier like a spear through silk.
The pillar hit the ground.
It struck the central square of Whisperfield with the force of divine judgment. Cobblestones exploded outward in a ring. The shockwave flattened every person within fifty meters and knocked soldiers off the walls three hundred meters away.
Thunder followed.
The sound was beyond description. A crack so deep and so loud it stopped hearts. Windows shattered across the entire city. Stone walls split. The dwarven bombardment went silent because the crews couldn’t hear their own commands.
From the point of impact, fractures raced up the dome. The barrier couldn’t survive the cascading failure. Cracks branched outward from the apex in every direction, racing down the curve of the shell, each broken node weakening the next. The golden light flickered, stuttered, and began to fall.
Massive panels of mana separated along the fracture lines. The cascade accelerated. Sections collapsed. The sound of it was immense, a groaning roar of ancient magic coming apart at the seams.
The golden light that had protected Whisperfield flickered once.
Then went dark.
The sky was open.
Quinlan hung in the air above the shattered city with a single mana point to his name.
His right arm was destroyed. The bones in his index finger were powder. His mana channels from elbow to fingertip had ruptured. Blood seeped through the cracks in his gauntlet and dripped toward the smoke below. Every muscle in his body trembled from the cellular overload of the lightning acceleration.
[Mana: 1… 9… 16… 24…]
Already regenerating.
A hundred thousand people stared up through the smoke and dust at the hole in their sky. At the black figure hovering above them, armor cracked, lightning still crawling across the broken plates, eyes leaving trails of white fire.
Silence.