[Iron Prison] raised a hand.
"Ironware, melt."
The words echoed across the heavens like an edict. Before they faded, Dead Island shook, and its weapons and structures cast from steel seemed to have been thrown into a blazing furnace, glowing red and melting into molten iron.
The ground defense army's weapons were the first to suffer. The forward gun emplacements melted, followed by the steel fortress.
The scarred steel fortress, which had withstood countless Calamities, melted away. Molten iron streamed down from above like asphalt, and the soldiers inside rapidly evacuated.
The guns in their hands also melted into molten iron. No matter how they tried to hold on, even as swollen blisters rose on their burned skin, they could not stop their weapons and fortress from turning into molten iron.
"Coalesce."
The molten iron flowed backward. Beads of steel gathered into a vast iron sea, converging at [Iron Prison]'s call to form fingertips, joints, and then a palm.
It was difficult to describe just what kind of existence it was. Each finger rivaled a fifty-story building in size. Perhaps this was what it would look like if skyscrapers hung upside down and covered the earth.
The steel in the distance was still melting. The streams of iron submitted to the power of the Level Ten Calamity projection, [Iron Prison], continually completing the steel hand that blotted out the sun and sky.
The weapons that protected the Present World became the remnant body of a hostile Calamity and crashed down toward the River of Forgetfulness.
Against the ceaseless blasts of air and raging winds, Mo Yi held down his still-sheathed saber.
"We don't have a way to deal with a level eleven Calamity projection that targets souls just yet, but a Calamity we've been observing for so long dares threaten