Skinwalker Belle – Chapter 483 – The Arrival of the Pureblood Army

Sichuan-West Base Command Center.

A piercing red alarm blared across the hall.

Every operator stared at the main screen, fingers hammering across keyboards.

Chu Chen sat upright, hands braced on the console, eyes locked on the global Rift monitoring map.

The nine red dots that had been cleared by the nuclear detonation—dark for less than half an hour—flared back to life with blinding crimson light.

Energy readings spiked vertically, blowing straight past the set maximum threshold.

“Chu Chen, there’s a problem with the energy readings.”

Chen Mo strode over, voice tight.

“The energy fluctuations from the nine Rifts haven’t weakened at all—they’re three times higher than the first wave of transmission.”

Chu Chen pressed several keys, pulling up the energy band analysis chart.

“It’s not a reading error.”

His voice was ice-cold.

“It’s the second wave.”

The hall fell into instant dead silence.

“The first wave cleared by the nukes was just vanguard cannon fodder.”

Chu Chen’s slender finger tapped the screen.

“The Dragon Clan used those Demi-humans and Collateral Dragonkin as disposable frontline troops.”

“A million low-tier creatures plus thousands of Demi-humans and Collateral Dragonkin—all to drain our weapons stockpiles and probe our trump cards.”

“Now the reconnaissance is over.”

“The real reapers are here.”

On the screen, the energy fluctuations of the nine Rifts stabilized at peak Level Seven.

Dense clusters of deep crimson dots poured out from the Rifts.

Not many in number—only a few dozen per Rift.

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But the energy intensity represented by each single dot was enough to destroy a small city.

“Except for the Sichuan-West Rift, which was directly intercepted by Azurewood City, all nine remaining Rifts have initiated a second transmission.”

Chu Chen issued orders rapidly.

“Switch the feed over.”

Satellite imagery came through.

The Far North Ice Plains, the Capital Base, the Bear Country base…

Above every nuclear blast crater, the Spatial Rifts had been violently torn to their absolute limits.

One by one, otherworldly warriors in heavy armor, crowned with Pureblood Dragon Horns, stepped onto Blue Star.

“All Level Seven Purebloods, without exception.”

Chen Mo drew a sharp breath.

“Is the Dragon Clan trying to flatten Blue Star in one sweep?”

Chu Chen unwrapped another piece of candy and popped it into his mouth.

The wrapper was crushed into a ball in his hand.

“Notify all defensive lines across Blue Star—accelerate personnel transport to Sichuan-West.”

“Those already at the Sichuan-West Base must evacuate through the Space Gate to Azurewood City immediately.”

Chu Chen pressed the all-frequency broadcast key.

…

A thousand kilometers from the Altai Mountains.

The Siberian Rift.

The winter snow that once covered the ground had long since been vaporized by extreme heat.

In midair, the dark crimson Spatial Rift was forced open by some violent power, black Spatial Turbulence churning along its edges.

Fifty black figures filed out in succession.

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All Level Seven Pureblood Dragon Clan.

Clad in heavy armor traced with dark gold patterns, the Pureblood Dragon Horns atop their heads gleamed with cold metallic luster in the night.

The five leaders at the front radiated pressure so dense that the very space around them rippled—unmistakably top-tier experts at late Level Seven.

On the Dragon Spirit Continent, this force alone could sweep through anything in its path.

The Dragon Clan commander leading them was named Long Yuan.

He hovered in midair, his golden Vertical pupils sweeping coldly across the ground below.

No Blue Star base breached as expected.

No mountains of native corpses.

No Mutated Beasts or Demi-human vanguards from the first wave.

Below lay only a single massive crater, over a kilometer in diameter.

The rock at the bottom of the pit had been completely melted by unimaginable heat, cooling into a smooth, translucent glass-like surface.

The pungent smell of burning mixed with lethal nuclear radiation permeated the air.

“What’s going on here?”

Beside Long Yuan, a deputy commander also at the late seventh rank furrowed his brow, his eyes filled with shock.

Although unlike the first wave, they had been teleported directly from the Dragon Emperor Hall.

They had only arrived half an hour later than the first wave of cannon fodder.

According to the plan, even if the first wave’s trash couldn’t take the position, they should at least have fought to a stalemate.

Clearing a safe landing zone for their true harvesting force.

Long Yuan said nothing.

His form flickered, and he landed on the glassy surface at the bottom of the pit.

His combat boots crunched as they made contact.

He bent down and dug out a piece of glass crystal still radiating dark red heat with his bare hands.

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The high temperature seared his palm, producing a sizzling sound, but he didn’t even frown.

“No corpses, no bloodstains, not even a single intact bone left behind.”

Long Yuan clenched his five fingers, crushing the hard glass into powder that slipped through the gaps between his fingers.

“Temperatures exceeding a hundred thousand degrees in an instant.”

Long Zhan’s face changed drastically upon hearing this.

“Blue Star human tech weapons? How could they possibly have such power?”

“Who cares what kind of weapon it is.”

Another late seventh-rank Dragon Clan member sneered, undisguised contempt in his tone.

“Being able to deploy destruction on this level means this is already these insects’ last trump card.”

“The first wave’s trash died a worthy death—at least they cleared the mines for us.”

Long Yuan stood up and brushed the ashes from his hands.

“The Grand Elder has decreed that Blue Star’s Evolved beings are the nourishment for the Ancestor’s breakthrough—the stronger, the better.”

“Pass down the order: spread out our senses.”

“There’s no living thing on this scorched earth, so we’ll look elsewhere.”

He raised his head, cruel killing intent flickering in his golden eyes.

“Find them, break their limbs, and keep them as livestock.”

…

Western Sichuan Base, Command Center.

Chu Chen stared at the satellite thermal imaging map on the main screen.

The nearest Rift to Lu Yuan and Zhu Yan was in the Siberian direction—fifty deep red light points clustered together, glaringly bright red.

Among them, five light points had energy readings approaching the system’s detection limit.

“Fifty seventh-rank Purebloods, five of them at late seventh rank.”

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Chen Mo stood to the side, his voice dry.

Even as a battle-hardened veteran, facing a force deployment of this level, he felt a deep sense of helplessness.

“Chu Chen, the nuclear warheads are completely spent. The Scorched Earth Plan can’t be used a second time.”

Chu Chen ignored him.

He mechanically unwrapped a White Rabbit candy and stuffed it into his mouth, his cheeks slightly bulging.

His brain was operating at a speed surpassing that of a supercomputer.

Fifty seventh-rank Purebloods—extremely powerful in individual combat, astonishingly durable, and capable of flight.

Blue Star’s existing conventional defense forces were nothing more than paper in front of them.

“We can’t let them scatter.”

Chu Chen swallowed the candy, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he pulled up a global terrain map.

“Once these fifty monsters find anything, it’ll be a catastrophe for those survivor bases that haven’t been evacuated yet.”

“We have to pin them down.”

He pressed the communication key, directly cutting into Lu Yuan and Zhu Yan’s private channel.

“Lu Yuan, Zhu Yan.”

Chu Chen’s voice carried no emotion whatsoever.

“One thousand kilometers from you, in the Siberian direction, fifty seventh-rank Purebloods have descended, led by five in the late seventh-rank stage.”

“Until the survivors in Altai are fully evacuated, do not be discovered.”

On the other end of the communicator, the wind and snow howled.

On the snowfields of the Altai Mountains.

Zhu Yan was directing the newly arrived transport planes, moving the Chosen Ones enslaved by the Dragon Clan and the survivors to western Sichuan.

Hearing the report from the communicator, her pupils suddenly contracted.

“Fifty seventh-rank? And five in the late stage?”