Unholy Player

Chapter 536 Henry’s Plan (Part 4)

For the last few months, there were several key areas that humans had prioritized in their development in this new world, and one of them was the point where logistics and military needs overlapped.

They especially pushed their flying vehicles to a new level so their usefulness could match the realities of this world, not just in comfort, but in deployment and response.

The most significant change in these new military vehicles, which resulted from technological progress, the Sparks they had obtained and studied, and the materials found in the Beyond, was an increase in their size.

The new generation of hoverjets was now larger. They were built to carry more powersuit-equipped personnel at once, to allow new heavy weapons to be mounted directly into their hulls without compromising stability, and to transport heavy cargo with ease.

After this massive hoverjet, which looked like a colossal flying ship, approached the group and landed with controlled precision, its door opened with a heavy mechanical sound.

A group of soldiers stepped out, all wearing full metal armor and carrying giant rifles in their hands. They marched in a rhythmic, methodical way, their boots striking the ramp in a steady cadence that echoed in the onlookers’ ears like war drums.

Then they split into 2 groups and formed a corridor leading to the hoverjet’s door, their bodies angled just enough to leave a clean path between them, their helmets facing forward, without ever lowering their weapons.

“They are not Practitioners…” Arvyn immediately read them as mere mortals. Their movements were disciplined and synchronized, every motion rehearsed to the point of instinct, yet there was none of the familiar pressure of a Practitioner’s refined presence.

Still, the giant rifles in their hands made it clear they were far from harmless, the barrels long and heavy, built for stopping power.

The gold-plated parts of their gear also indicated their danger. They were made of the same material as the bullets that had easily damaged their hardened skin a while ago and the same as the weapons of Zephan and Liora, which they had thought were treasures not long ago.

What race is this? she thought as they began moving toward the hoverjet under the drone’s guidance, the machine gliding ahead like a silent escort.

A race where even their mortals had enough strength to harm a Rank 4 Practitioner was unheard of. It made her wonder: how strong their actual Practitioners might be and what kind of city could produce soldiers like these.

Liora and Zephan followed right behind them, watching them closely and ready to intercept any threat.

As for Soulforge, they left him there, still standing atop his Giant Eye, frozen in the same place like a statue that had forgotten how to blink. He would come to himself naturally later.

“Is this what the places Gods live look like?” Arvyn and Kaelor looked out the hoverjet window at the city beneath their feet, the altitude making everything feel unreal.

It was like a glimpse that helped them understand how the Central Region actually looked, not through rumors or imagination, but with their own eyes. The tall concrete buildings all looked handmade, yet at the same time they made one wonder how they could be crafted with such artistry, their edges clean, their surfaces uniform, their shapes repeated without error.

The symmetry was everywhere, from the roads linking the whole city to the size and scale of the buildings; everything aligned so perfectly it looked as if it had been drawn on paper, measured, and corrected until nothing was out of place.

Even the small touches felt deliberate. Gardens, greenery, and colorful flowers broke up the concrete.

There were also strange, massive moving pictures decorating the buildings and the area around the city center, the images rotating continuously, bright and crisp even in daylight.

“What are those?” Arvyn looked at the massive screens spread all over the city, clearly placed so visitors could see them, mounted high and angled toward the streets below as well as toward the sky, meant for those arriving from above.

Currently, a movie was playing on the screens, a favorite one on Earth, a sci-fi type where a group of spaceships were traveling through space and seemed to be approaching a distant planet, the scene switching between the ships and the dark expanse around them.

For Kaelor and Arvyn, whose imagination was only limited to their Spark skills, the scene was hard to grasp at first.

But as the movie went on, the distant blue planet became more visible in the shifting camera angles. Soon the massive spaceships entered the planet’s atmosphere and started to land on the surface.

Then the two finally realized it was a massive planet with a race living on it with a population of millions, with whole cities spread across the surface like living clusters.

“Is that…” Arvyn swallowed hard as she mistook the artificially crafted movie for something real. “A Sanctuary?”

For someone like her who had never seen the vastness of space, the black emptiness looked like a sea of energy in a Sanctuary, and the Earth was the

land inside.

The enormity of the Sanctuary made her realize how small she actually was. In

her mind, her own world shrank into a speck.

Who would that enormous Sanctuary belong to?

The answer came to her as soon as she thought about it. At least a Demigod.

In that moment, it hit her that her Blood Sect might actually not be as powerful as she had always thought, not in a world that could casually display things like

this.

Her gaze instinctively turned to Kaelor to ask him if they should escape this place before things went wrong, but she saw it was already too late. Kaelor’s metal head was puffing with hot smoke as he walked around with quick steps. He studied every detail in the aircraft, peering at seams, panels, and unfamiliar mechanisms. He kept trying to speak with the soldiers wearing powersuits, even though no one was speaking with him, only staying still like

small mountains.

He looked like a puppy who, after being lost for so many years, had returned to its home. Only his tail was missing, wagging nonstop from side to side.

I can’t trust him anymore. Arvyn’s face tightened as she understood the Mechari had already changed sides, his excitement was too raw, too genuine to

fake.

A little while later, the hoverjet approached the tallest building’s rooftop in the area and then landed there smoothly, the city falling away beneath them as the roof platform rose to meet the craft.

Another group of STF greeted them outside, already waiting in orderly lines, having obviously received the information long ago.

This time, they weren’t wearing the mechanical powersuits. All of them wore white uniforms that looked like thin fabric, perfectly fitted and wrapping their whole bodies. The uniforms were clean and unwrinkled, which shocked them

once again.

The 2 Blood Path Practitioners looked at this new group and saw they were

also not Practitioners, mere mortals. That was the real source of their shock.

The white uniforms they wore were similar, almost the same as the uniforms Zephan and Liora were wearing. There was only a slight difference in style, with a more simple look and markings placed differently.

And not only did they all wear the same uniforms, but they also all had different kinds of gold-colored weapons on them. Some had knives on their belts, some had swords that were long and different, some had batons, and some even had gauntlets on their hands that looked like regular gloves but were heavy on their

wrists.

There were hundreds of them, carrying treasures like they were cheap market goods. They weren’t even Practitioners, as if such items were standard issue

here.

Of course, not everyone among them were mortals. While the whole group waited in formation to greet their guests, 2 figures stood at the front, clearly the leaders of these special soldiers.

One was a woman with dark purple hair and midnight eyes. The same white uniform covered her whole body, but her style was altered slightly compared to the others, more striking and eye-catching. With the gold rapier on her belt, the hilt catching the light when she shifted, she looked like a valkyrie on the

battlefield.

The other was a man, again wearing one of those white uniforms. He had short white hair and pure white pupils.

As the Blood Path followers observed him, he returned their gaze with an

expression that suggested either boredom or the effects of having drunk too much, making it difficult to determine which was the case.

Even his posture was not like any other soldier; his waist was bent, and his shoulders were low. He was not looking impressive no matter how you looked at him, like he had wandered into the formation by accident. But for some reason, as Arvyn looked at the man, she felt a strange sensation,

the same one she used to feel around her higher-ups in the cult back in the Midlands, a quiet pressure that did not need an aura to say I am dangerous.