Chapter 184: Blessing—Blood Giant

B-class, it looks low.

But they are among the eighty-nine out of billions of lords.

The lords of the Lord World vastly outnumber the population of Lu Cang's previous life's Blue Star World.

Although it cannot be fully counted, conservative estimates put the number of lords at least in the hundreds of billions.

Even a trillion is possible.

These eighty-nine are the true elite among elites.

At the very least, all are tenth-class lords.

"You've all seen the news about the Cursed One, Lu Cang."

"Open the community—you'll find nothing but articles about Lu Cang."

Lu Cang's promotion to sixth-class territory has spread throughout the entire lord world.

It's impossible to ignore.

【Community】

"Sixth-Class Lu Cang: Rapid Promotion—Who Exactly Is He?"

"Fifth-Class Defeats Eighth-Class—Can Sixth-Class Lu Cang Really Be Contained?"

"Fall of the Far East—Is Lu Cang Suspected of Ruling the Far East?"

The faces of these lords grew increasingly grim.

They had originally been annoyed by the sudden meeting.

But seeing these community news reports,

they became fully attentive.

Lords don't constantly monitor the community.

More often, they lead their troops or manage construction.

Especially higher-class lords have more to handle.

Thus, they spend less time on the community.

They truly don't care much about events happening in the world.

"The Far East has fallen?"

"What's going on?"

"Though the Far East is barren, nearly devoid of resources, and few lords choose to live there,

it shouldn't have fallen this badly, right?"

"Could Lu Cang really unify the Far East in such a short time? What does he intend to do?"

The B-class lords voiced their questions one after another.

The meeting's chairperson adjusted his glasses slightly.

Then said: "The lords of the Far East have sent countless emergency distress signals to the Alliance."

"Since the day before yesterday, over three thousand territories in the Far East have fallen."

"Only three thousand… that's not much, is it?"

"Idiot, the Far East has only five thousand lords total."

"What? So few?"

Any other random region has billions of lords.

The Far East has only three thousand?

"Even if it's small, it shouldn't be this small."

"The Far East is almost entirely wilderness, with almost no resources; virtually no lords want to live there."

"The only places where resources can be found are the Mist Zones."

"But the Mist Zones scattered across the Far East each year are extremely rare."

"Any random region in other areas is far richer than the Far East."

"Naturally, most lords refuse to stay in the Far East."

It's the same logic as how most people live in cities—tens of millions in one city—

while the entire world has seven billion people,

yet very few live in deserts.

If it's unsuitable for survival, why choose it?

The Far East is exactly like that desert.

"If this continues, the Far East will truly become a territory occupied by the Cursed One."

"Regardless, all regions in this world must fall under the Alliance's jurisdiction."

"Our Alliance must uphold the unity of the world."

"Even the remote Far East must not be desecrated by the Cursed One."

If the Cursed One truly seizes the Far East, it would be like slapping the Alliance across the face.

Especially when it's a sixth-class Cursed One who has seized it.

It's as absurd as a child wielding a kitchen knife carving up a slice of a great nation's territory.

If word gets out, the Alliance would become a global laughingstock.

At this moment, the B-class lords seated here finally understood why the Alliance had urgently summoned them.

This matter truly is serious.

If this Cursed One had merely risen to sixth-class in a normal way, it wouldn't have warranted such haste.

But now.

It concerns reputation.

"Actually, I called you here not to discuss anything."

"Just to issue a notice."

"Effective immediately, all B-rank Lords present enter combat status."

"Teleport to the teleportation array closest to the Far East."

"Launch a direct campaign against Lu Cang."

"I don't believe a Tier Six Lord can wipe you all out."

…………

【Western World】

"Hey..."

"Don't tell me this is an A-rank mission."

The Alliance's B-rank Lord, Tier Ten 【Arm of Utmost Effort】.

But at this moment, he stood at the very edge of the West.

The region known as the Farthest West.

Boom—

Boom—

Boom—

Boom—

Step by step, heavy footsteps like beating drums.

【Tyrant】 couldn't help but swallow.

He immediately opened the contact for his superior.

【Sending video call request】

【Connected】

"Tyrant?"

"Aren't you on a mission? What's the matter?"

Tyrant synced his viewpoint to the mission issuer.

"You told me to clear out the beast tide?"