Villain: Ultimate Mutation System in the Alternate World - Chapter 654

Chapter 654: Godlike Master Part 5
Centuries had passed since the Central Plane was this crowded.

Birds scattered from the trees outside the tall wall, startled by the incoming nose.

Above, the clouds moved in all directions. Sky ships filled the sky, crowding the air like a fleet heading to war.

One passed low over the building—its wooden hull shaped like a long boat, but with glowing sails that caught no wind.

Symbols burned faintly on its sides, dancing as the ship moved. On the deck stood countless spirit users, all wearing serious expressions. Even with an army behind them, the news they heard drained all sense of confidence.

swooosh!

Another ship glided past, shaped like a massive bird with wide wings and a long, curved neck. Its long beak opened once, letting out a soundless cry before climbing higher.

It came from another sect, known for its advanced technology and crafting—the same skills that helped them build the most secure city in the world.

Farther back, a wide, flat shell drifted across the clouds. At first glance, it looked like a flying rock, until the legs and head of a turtle slowly stretched from its sides. Each movement stirred the clouds around it.

One of the larger crafts twisted through the air like a living serpent. It had the shape of a dragon, but no flesh or scales—just golden bones wrapped in smoke.

People across the Central Plane stepped out of their homes and courtyards, gazes drawn upward.

An old shopkeeper stood outside his spice stall, wiping his hands on a worn cloth. His back was slightly bent, and his hair had thinned, but his eyes stayed sharp as they followed the streaks across the sky.

Most who passed by saw just another vendor—quiet, polite, easy to overlook.

But hidden beneath the smell of crushed herbs and dried roots was a spirit power that hadn’t stirred in years. He was no simple merchant. He was a Spirit Saint.

He buried his old name long ago, traded robes for aprons, and hadn’t summoned his spirit in nearly a decade.

Now, though, his fingers curled tighter around the cloth.

He sniffed the air, then muttered under his breath,

‘If they’re flying like that in broad daylight… it means things are getting out of hand. I wonder what my nephew would do.’

His apprentice leaned out from behind the stall. “Master, should we pack up early?”

The old man didn’t answer right away. His eyes hadn’t left the sky.

Then he spoke “Pack up. We’re moving out of here. This place is no longer safe. We need to hide.”

“Hide? But we’ve been here for years—what’s going on?”

“They’ve woken something up,” He handed the apprentice a cloth sack filled with sealed vials. “Take only what we need. Leave the rest. We won’t be back.”

The boy didn’t argue anymore. He moved faster now, stuffing jars and scrolls into a travel pack with shaking hands.

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The meeting place was a stone platform as big as a village. It sat in a wide valley, surrounded by cliffs and broken temples.

The marks told a story of past fights. Long ago, this place was used for key meetings and testing the power of sect leaders.

But that was long ago, before they began to mistrust one another.

It was ironic how they came together again, not as rivals, but as allies against a common foe.

From the north came the Azure Path. Their leader, the Grand Mistress, rode a serpent made of ice and wind. Her robe fluttered behind her, and her eyes were cold and clear.

From the east came the Lightning Sword Sect. They flew on swords, fast and sharp.

The Grand Sword master landed with a loud thud. His armor shone, and he didn’t say a word.

More sects arrived. They were smaller than the Spirit Sect, but together, they posed a real threat—even to the major ones.

They began talking among themselves while waiting on the open platform. The group was so powerful that it included over ten Titled Ones and dozens of Spirit Saints.

Then silence fell.

The Supreme One landed, taking his place at the center. His black and gold robe flowed in the wind, the fabric carrying the weight of authority.

His reputation wasn’t just talk. He had more million-year-old rings than any other Titled One, proving why he stood above the rest.

In fact, some claimed he could take on more than five Titled Ones at once—and win.

A bold rumor, especially since Titled Ones were seen as the peak of power in the mortal world.

“We all know why we’re here,” he said, getting straight to the point. “Something terrible has shown up. It wiped out an entire city in seconds. None of us can stop it alone.”

The Grand Mistress stepped forward. “Our seers saw a black and red shape with no form. Screams without sound. Whatever it is—it doesn’t belong to this world.”

The Grand Swordmaster’s expression hardened. “My sword trembled. It haven’t felt fear in fifty years—but it feel it now.”

A sect leader from a small sect spoke up. “What is it? A Beast King? A demon?”

Though he wasn’t the strongest, none dared to disrespect him. He was the leader of the Artificer Sect—the ones who created the flying bird and likely held the largest stockpile of war weapons.

The Supreme One’s eyes narrowed. “We don’t know yet—but we have to assume it’s strong enough to kill even the strongest among us.”

A woman from the Thunder Root Sect exhaled slowly, eyes lowered. “Even Titled Ones…” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

A young sect leader in the back let out a nervous laugh, but it died quick. No one joined him.

The air on the platform felt colder now. Not because of the wind—but because for the first time, even the strongest here were forced to imagine themselves losing.

Not in a fair duel. Not in a war. Just… embarrassingly defeated .

Normally, their pride would’ve pushed them to say something reckless. But they had already sent spies and burned through rare treasures to gauge the enemy’s strength—every attempt came back the same: immeasurable.