Chapter 302

Chapter 302: The Wind King’s Descent

The overwhelming aura soon faded like retreating tides.

Midi had merely intended to test his newly upgraded power while issuing a warning.

During his earlier battle with the Saint, he’d relentlessly drained his magic and absorbed the Radiance of Light multiple times. This allowed him to reach level 54 shortly after the fight ended.

As his level rose, the glowing patterns on the Dragon Sealing Sword within him grew more intricate, now covering nearly forty percent of the blade. The sword emitted a crushing pressure akin to refined Dragon’s might from Dragon’s Blood. Though Midi struggled to fully control this force, it sufficed to silence the hall.

"Labeling me guilty upon arrival—is this the Rothschild’s hospitality?" Midi scoffed. "I came here for business."

"A Lower Realm human dares negotiate with the Rothschild?" a sneering voice challenged.

All murmurs ceased when Midi unleashed a chilling aura—not from cold, but from beauty.

He produced an Ice Soul Pearl.

He’d obtained it while testing the Wind King Warship’s capabilities during his return journey, "accidentally" venturing into the Ice Cloud Circle to hunt.

"Is that… the legendary Ice Soul Pearl?" Cadilan’s eyes flickered with concealed greed. Having monitored the Venus Auction House, he instantly recognized the pearl matching one previously sold for 800,000.

"Correct. I now monopolize Ice Soul Pearls," Midi stated calmly. "More treasures from the Stormy Region’s core will require transport. Does the Rothschild Guild wish to cooperate?"

He knew they couldn’t refuse—profit drove merchants, especially astronomical gains.

Yet the board disappointed him again. Ambushes surrounding them multiplied instead of withdrawing. Worse, their "cooperation" terms demanded guild involvement in his monopoly and full disclosure of secrets in exchange for protection.

This wasn’t partnership but oppression. Refusing likely meant imprisonment on the Green Crystal Floating Island.

"Victoria," Midi sighed after thirty futile minutes, "your father shows no sincerity."

"True," Victoria replied icily, disappointment sharp in her gaze.

Her own ally, her profitable venture—yet the board offered only extortion. They either opposed the deal, opposed her alliances, or craved total profit. Likely all three.

A bitter smile touched her lips. When had father and daughter become enemies entangled in bloodline, power, and profit? The reasons mattered less than the solution—

Severance.

"Since the Rothschild Guild lacks sincerity, I’ll take my leave." Midi scanned the hall, then added ruefully, "Though escape seems impossible now."

Guards flooded the mansion, many barging into the hall.

"Flying skills won’t save you from an entire faction, Midi," Cadilan sneered, glancing at Victoria. "You lured him well. Persuade him to join us, and I’ll spare him."

Accompanied by these words, the chairman and fourteen directors glowed, and in the next moment, the activated teleportation array whisked them out of the hall.

These merchants would never remain on a dangerous battlefield, nor face Midi’s blade.

The magic in the air trembled faintly. Through the grand floor-to-ceiling windows, several Tiger Shark-class Skyships could be seen closing in from above, deploying swarms of Vanguard ships to encircle the area. They were clearly sealing the airspace to block Midi’s escape via "Sky Sword Dance."

Midi and Victoria exchanged a bitter glance—

Even while fleeing, he’d planted seeds of distrust. How deeply must this father despise his daughter?

Deploying an entire Skyship fleet against one man? How insecure could they be?

Yet Chairman Cadilan wasn’t entirely wrong. Alone, Midi couldn’t oppose any faction—not even a minor one, much less the mighty Rothschild Guild.

Flesh had limits. Even with the Radiance of Light restoring his magic, his mind would still weary.

That’s why Midi, despite his skills, had wandered the Sea of Clouds in obscurity for over a year.

But now, he wasn’t alone.

He’d come with Victoria intending force—but not relying solely on himself.

“Will destroying those cause issues?” Midi asked calmly, as if the surrounding net meant nothing.

“No. That’s the Guild’s defense fleet—loyal to my father and brothers. Even if they surrendered, they’d betray us later. Better to wipe them out now.” Victoria sighed.

“Begin.” Midi spoke into his collar’s magical communications device. “Attack. Objective: total fleet annihilation.”

The Green Crystal Floating Island’s air shuddered.

Dozens of missiles shrieked downward, striking the Tiger Shark Skyships’ weak points. Deafening explosions followed, obliterating the Rothschild Guild’s prized fleet.

Then an 85-meter colossus with hundred-meter wings descended. Rotating turrets unfolded from its wings, spraying fiery death that vaporized nearly every Vanguard ship.

The Wind King Cruiser had arrived.

Like a monarch, it claimed the island’s summit, dominating the airspace with overwhelming firepower. Every enemy—airborne or grounded—fell within the ancient warship’s merciless range. Ambushers near Guild headquarters vanished under its barrage.

As the Cruiser loomed, hidden Arrow Fish Skyships around the island sprang into action. Their Vanguard ships swarmed the docks, disgorging troops to seize the floating island.

“Impossible! What Skyship is a hundred meters long?!”

“Armed rebellion!”

“How does Victoria command so many?!”

Sheltered board members gaped at the magical displays. The commerce genius had become a ruthless commander overnight.

Yet the true commander was Midi. Before approaching the Guild, he’d orchestrated this—using the Wind King Cruiser as his trump card. Emil rallied Windstream’s drifters. Reinhardt summoned Delos Empire elites. The Hawk Brigade answered Midi’s call.

Scattered human factions and Sea of Clouds outcasts, armed with Victoria’s funds and Skyships, had unified into an army. Paired with the invincible Cruiser and Midi’s undefeated record, how could business-obsessed merchants resist?

The “impregnable” Green Crystal Floating Island fell instantly. Midi’s troops seized key positions while ground units stormed buildings, hunting board members.

Only the central hall remained tense.

“Two choices.” Midi surveyed the guards encircling them. “Drop your weapons and surrender. Or die. Choose.”

Under Midi’s faint Dragon’s might and the looming warship’s shadow, the guards chose wisely.

Thus concluded the Rothschild Guild’s greatest internal crisis in a century.