Chapter 1306: What’s Going On?

The towering Sentinel Tower stood sentinel at the edge of the dark, polluted wasteland. Its massive base resembled a man-made hill, ancient and solid, while the tower itself—adorned with crystals and elven runes—hovered above the foundation. A faint, flowing light circled its surface, weaving shifting angles of illumination between the runes and crystals. These colossal towers formed nodes in an ancient, majestic energy barrier that hung like a shimmering waterfall from the clouds, sharply dividing the wasteland from the civilized world.

With a loud, piercing whistle, the armored train “Winter General” rumbled into the forward base. Another batch of fully armed imperial soldiers, battle mages, and martial cultivators arrived at this frontline outpost. The tall, imposing imperial commander Philip strode briskly along the platform’s connecting corridor. Nearby, a towering, heavily armored figure emerged from the first carriage of the Winter General. A heavy prayer book hung from iron chains at his waist. This figure walked toward the corridor, followed by a formation of White Knights filing out behind him.

“Archbishop Light,” Philip greeted quickly, saluting the tall figure. “I didn’t expect you to come to the front yourself. I’d heard the Holy Dusk Battalion was coming to support us, but I never imagined you would lead them personally.”

“His Majesty is deeply concerned about the situation here,” Light replied in a rich, powerful voice. “We’re receiving increasingly troubling intelligence. While paperwork in the church is important, the responsibility the Holy Light has bestowed upon me compels me to be where I’m most needed—the brothers and sisters of the frontline battalion desperately need their archbishop.”

“We’ve noticed some abnormalities ourselves,” Philip nodded. “Monsters inside the wall have been circling restlessly within the barrier, as if someone is urging them on. Our forward detection stations have repeatedly picked up unusual energy fluctuations in the wasteland, each from a different direction.”

“Let’s talk as we walk,” Light said gravely, following Philip into the base. “Has the advance plan been finalized?”

“Yes. The vanguard and heavy fire support are ready. Soon, the Silver Empire will send a signal to the Sentinel Tower. At the three main forward bases—Tifon, Cecil, and Silver-Highridge—the Grant Wall will open a narrow breach. We’ll clear the way with heavy artillery and flamethrowers, quickly establish a forward fortress inside, then erect purification devices to gradually expand the safe zone and push toward the wasteland’s center.”

“Good,” Light nodded slowly, but then furrowed his brow, glancing toward the awe-inspiring energy wall and the glowing towers floating in the sky. “But I can’t shake this ominous feeling…”

“Ominous feeling?” Philip’s expression turned serious. “Is the Holy Light giving you a warning?”

“…Very likely. Perhaps the Holy Light senses the overgrowth of evil forces,” Light said with grave solemnity. “It’s guiding me to request adding twenty more heavy cannons and two additional flamethrower units along the advance line.”

Philip considered this carefully, then his expression hardened with resolve. “I believe the Holy Light is right.”

…

The Starfall Sanctuary cruised slowly through the sky, its vast shadow cast over the sprawling forests along the northern border of the Highridge Kingdom. The living forest barrier undulated gently on the horizon. Mighty guardian trees, the Silver Legion, and the kingdom’s elite rangers stood ready at the forest’s edge. On the other side of the boundary rose the towering light curtain of the Grant Wall and the Sentinel Towers floating atop nearby hills.

The barrier separated two worlds: on one side, a lush living forest defense line; on the other, the charred, polluted soil and wind-eroded stones of the Gondor Wasteland. This wall had stood for seven centuries. Today… mortals would open a breach for the first time.

Bersethia sat upon the Throne of Dominion, her senses fused with the entire anti-gravity fortress. Through external monitors scattered throughout the Starfall Sanctuary, she watched every movement along the distant barrier line. She felt the high-altitude winds brushing over the deck, the hum and vibration from the engine core. This vast, ancient flying base was like another body to her—her mechanical soul and flesh intertwined. The sensory dissonance would overwhelm an ordinary person, but to her, it was second nature.

She briefly withdrew from the mechanical whispers and looked up at the hall, where mages and sanctuary tutors busied themselves at control terminals. Her chief magical advisor, Archstar Vilania, stood quietly on the small platform before the throne.

“Our forces are fully assembled, Your Majesty,” Vilania reported, bowing her head. “Our allies have just sent word that everything is ready.”

Bersethia nodded slightly but did not respond immediately.

She knew the alliance was not truly prepared. Whether Tifon, Cecil, or Silver, several key “trump cards” designed for this war were still en route. Rushing an offensive into the wasteland carried great risk. But she also knew the “Sentinels” in the wasteland had already begun to move. The time left for the mortal nations in the safe zone outside the wall was running out. The only choice now was to strike first.

The spirit of the Silver Queen gathered within her. She closed her eyes briefly, letting her soul fully immerse in the Starfall Sanctuary’s main control system. She heard the mechanical soul deep within the fortress whispering to her, the distant echoes from the Sentinel Towers linked to the sanctuary. She activated the command keys that had lain dormant for centuries, then began the process of authentication, unlocking, and injecting commands from the depths of her memory…

On the distant horizon, atop the floating Sentinel Tower, the steady pale blue glow suddenly rippled. Streams of light began to flow down the surface of the Grant Wall. Vilania instinctively gripped her star mage’s staff tightly, eyes fixed on the frontline’s first-person view on the monitors, watching the crack slowly form on the wall’s surface. Her breath caught.

At the same time, at the Winter Wolf forward base in Tifon and the southern advance base in Cecil, fully armed knights, mage legions, and mechanized divisions all stared intently at the barrier gradually opening before them. For the first time in centuries, the mortal nations were actively breaching this wall. The historic moment held everyone’s breath.

No one noticed—or perhaps no one in this era could notice—that the energy fluctuations and feedback signals emitted by the Sentinel Towers during operation contained interference. The ancient barrier control system was not running entirely according to protocol.

Suddenly, a sharp, piercing alarm blared through the control hall. Numerous terminals shut down and rebooted simultaneously. A violent tremor shook the depths of the Starfall Sanctuary, nearly knocking Vilania to the floor. Ear-piercing system warnings sounded. Servants and operators cried out in alarm. Vilania’s first glance was toward the Throne of Dominion at the hall’s center, where all the lights on the pale golden throne had gone dark. Bright arcs of electricity sparked between the cables and conduits connecting the throne to the fortress.

Reports flooded the hall: “Sentinel Tower system offline! The Grant Wall is out of control!” “Main antenna shut down!” “Backup ports refusing to respond! Something is blocking our signal!”

“Your Majesty!” the Archstar rushed to the throne, but before she could reach her, the Silver Queen’s eyes snapped open. Bersethia slammed a rune on the throne’s armrest, severing the connection, wiping blood from the corner of her mouth, and shouted orders at lightning speed: “Restart the main antenna! Switch all terminals facing the Sentinel Towers to manual control! Move the sanctuary toward Node Six—get as close to that Sentinel Tower as possible! We must reestablish the connection immediately!”

The queen’s swift command calmed the brief chaos in the hall. Operators sprang into action. In moments like this, a clear order was vital. Even if their response was limited, the command itself helped restore order.

“Your Majesty,” Vilania stepped forward, steadying the queen who looked pale, lowering her voice urgently, “what happened?”

“There was an unauthorized access breach just after I completed the throne’s authentication. Something overwrote and altered my commands,” Bersethia said quickly. “I forcibly shut down the Sentinel Tower system—that was the only thing I could do. Otherwise, the forged permissions would have taken full control of everything linked to the Starfall Sanctuary.”

Vilania’s heart nearly stopped. She gasped, then noticed the horrifying scene on the nearby monitors—

The Grant Wall’s opening “passage” had already exceeded the planned width, surpassing the frontline’s defensive coverage. Yet the barrier kept widening. The out-of-control Sentinel Tower was still executing the corrupted commands received from the throne. The Grant Wall was about to close completely under this erroneous order!

At that moment, an elf operating a terminal nearby shouted, “Main antenna restarted! Tower Six is responding again! But… the ‘open gate’ command cannot be overwritten!”

Vilania’s heart tightened. The Silver Queen pushed her hand away and sat back down on the Throne of Dominion. “I’ll reconnect—Archstar, assist me.”

Vilania glanced at the damaged cables around the throne, instinctively wanting to pull the queen away. “Your Majesty, this won’t work. The throne’s connections are—”

“They’re still functional. I’m sure. Most of these connections I severed myself, I know what I’m doing,” Bersethia cut her off. “There’s no time to hesitate—the entire civilized world is rapidly exposed to the Gondor Wasteland!”

…

The Grant Wall opened a passage into the wasteland—but not in the way anyone had planned.

Cecil’s forces pushed forward beyond the base, where hundreds of heavy tanks and even more multi-purpose combat vehicles gathered across the plains. Artillery positions on the surrounding high ground were locked onto the wasteland ahead. Soldiers and commanders alike fixed their eyes on the massive energy barrier before them, watching as it slowly cracked open from the center, the fissure widening into a broad passageway—then expanding further, unsettlingly so. The grand wall itself, along with the distant sentinel towers, began to emit a strange, piercing howl.

It was the kind of shriek that only came when a massive barrier was about to forcibly shut down.

Something was wrong—experienced commanders and veteran soldiers quickly realized this.

The next moment, reconnaissance dragonrider fighters in the sky relayed urgent intelligence: a huge number of aberrations, which had been wandering aimlessly inside the barrier, suddenly gathered with an almost impossible sense of order, surging toward the widening breach in the grand wall.

“What’s going on?!” Inside a command vehicle at the vanguard, a frontline officer clad in blue light armor stared wide-eyed at the monitor. “Any word from the elves?”

“Our comms with the southern front just went dead,” a junior officer replied rapidly. “Sir, the aberrations are massing fast and moving toward the breach. Rear command orders us to hold position and block that gap immediately!”

“Then block it!” The frontline commander gritted his teeth. On the distant horizon, a rising cloud of filthy smoke sent chills down their spines—it was the ominous prelude to tens of thousands of aberrations and massive monsters flooding forward like a tidal wave. But the soldiers on this line had no room to retreat. The breach in the grand wall was still widening. Without that energy shield, the First Legion of Glory was the only barrier standing before the Dark Mountains. “Tank units, adjust formation and build the defense line. All ‘Steel Ambassadors’ switch to shield mode. Notify the heavy artillery positions—we need support!”

On the horizon, the surging tide of aberrations appeared in numbers far beyond theoretical norms, far exceeding previous reconnaissance and calculations. Even more alarming was their unexpected discipline.

Yet, in response, the Cecilians had spent the past months driven by a crippling “firepower deficiency phobia,” relentlessly pouring artillery into the frontline—far surpassing earlier plans.

Targets entered range. Mana capacitors activated. Heavy artillery roared to life.

One after another, pale cyan beams of energy shot skyward from the human lines, tracing graceful yet deadly arcs before crashing down into the distant waves of aberrations.

The sky erupted in firestorms. Within the black tide of aberrations, hundreds of bright, superheated explosions ignited out of nowhere. The resulting shockwaves tore through the tough flesh and hastily raised energy shields of the blood giants. Limbs and shattered flesh flew into the air, raining down moments later like a gruesome storm.

Behind the aberration horde, treant priests commanding the forces advanced step by step under the protection of their guards. The surging black tide ahead filled the dark druid’s heart with boundless confidence—and even a hint of boldness.

Though the operation was rushed and preparations insufficient, the fragile mortal kingdoms beyond the wall would only grow more panicked and unprepared in the face of this army and the sudden collapse of the grand wall.

After this wave passed, nothing would remain of those caught off guard.

Then, a piercing whistle shattered the tense silence. A massive explosion erupted within the aberration tide, sending a counter-wave surging back against the flow.

The dark druid commanding the legion halted. His twisted, withered crown trembled in the wind. The fiery rain descending from the distant sky ignited his vision—

“What is this?”

(End of chapter)