Over Clearspring City, a Dragonfly transport aircraft hovered along the edge of the fifth ring.0

Looking at the boundless yellow-green mist outside the aircraft, Unprofessional Retort couldn't help but click his tongue in surprise, his eyes filled with astonishment.0

The spore cloud, amassed at the heart of the city, mirrored a descending waterfall from the heavens, forming an illusion akin to a colossal, foliage-rich tree; its monumental trunk loomed over the land, gradually consuming it with an insatiable appetite, while its sprawling branches aggressively encroached upon the expansive sky.0

Is there really a weapon in reality capable of destroying this thing?0

Even a nuclear bomb...1

Feeling a slight chill crawled up along his line of sight, Unprofessional Retort shook his head and picked up the radio hanging over his shoulder, calling out, "Are you guys ready?"0

Amidst the static noise, Old White's intermittent voice came through the headset. "We're ready."0

The signal had begun to fluctuate erratically, signaling to Unprofessional Retort that this area had already reached the aircraft's utmost limit for safe approach without electromagnetic...0