Chapter 1310: The Setting Sun Sinks Westward

Along the border of the strip-like plains on the southern side of the Dark Mountains, at the grand wall fortifications overseen by the Cecilians, a new barrier had risen from the earth—less towering than the majestic wall itself, yet no less awe-inspiring. It stood before the massive breach left by the destruction of Sentinel Tower 98.

This new defense was a living forest, formed from countless vines and roots that had burrowed up from beneath the ground.

Now, towering, resilient, and predatory giant trees had taken root along the edge of the wasteland, forming a sturdy shield. They had withstood the fiercest wave of attacks from the mutants and various twisted beasts. Their reach extended from the Cecilian front lines all the way to the gap facing the Typhon forces. In some places, these “hunting zones” even touched the Typhon positions. The monstrous vines and gaping fissures in the earth sent shivers down the spines of the soldiers on the front, sparking pockets of chaos. Yet no matter the turmoil, these “battle plants” emerging from the soil had saved the faltering defenses.

The gaping hole left by the destruction of Sentinel Tower 98 was now sealed. Many of the monsters that had surged through were devoured by the living forest, while the rest panicked and scattered in the face of this sudden blow. The limited “discipline” they had shown before dissolved into chaos. Andersa didn’t know if this was because the monsters felt fear or because their command nodes had been destroyed or fled the battlefield. She only knew one thing—

Without discipline to bind them, the mutants running wild had reverted to mere monsters. And monsters… were nothing more than prey for the army’s hunt and slaughter.

On an unnamed ridge slanting into the wasteland, the Typhon mage corps hastily activated their legion-level spellcasting positions. Magic thrummed in the air, a vast energy illuminating the entire mountain. Under the dim, chaotic sky, layers of magical auras and intricate runes rose and connected above each position. The Typhon mages’ specialty—clustered spellcasting—was unleashed in full force.

A deluge of fiery rain poured down, interspersed with lightning and ice spikes leaping across the ground. Thick beams of arcane energy shot from the mountaintop, precisely targeting the massive, conspicuous mutant behemoths mixed among the hordes—called “giants” by the Cecilians, or simply “giant beasts” by the soldiers. The relentless magical onslaught shook the entire mountain range, filling the air with the distinct scent of magic breaking down the atmosphere.

Without command, the monsters no longer coordinated. They neither shielded their ranged units nor sought cover or dispersed. Bombarding such “enemies” from the high ground was as effortless for the Typhon mages as burning ants on the ground.

Andersa Windell exhaled softly. Though relieved, she kept her judgment sharp.

The situation had improved only locally. Overall, the battlefield remained grim. The first wave of monsters was nearly wiped out, but the damage they inflicted had torn a massive breach in the Typhon lines. Many brave and precious knights had fallen protecting the spellcasting positions during the initial assault. Communications were severely disrupted. Most critically… the “malfunction” of the majestic wall itself had yet to be repaired.

Bathed in the rising glow of magical light from the ridge, Andersa’s gaze involuntarily shifted to Sentinel Towers 99 and 100 on the far side—both still standing, unlike Tower 98, which had been destroyed by mutant attacks. Yet their condition was far from hopeful. A low, mournful wail echoed continuously from the bases and main bodies of the towers—the strained cries of shield projectors failing after their power systems broke down. Dim, flickering light had vanished from most of their surfaces, and the shields surrounding them had thinned to near transparency.

The mutant horde’s main force was already retreating along the entire line, but countless uncontrolled chaotic beasts, driven by instinct, still pressed toward the fading majestic wall. These chaotic creatures were even more mindless and blind than the mutants; their shallow intellects lacked even the notions of “fear” or “survival.” Yet their destructive power remained terrifying. The wall was riddled with holes, and the Winter Wolf Legion’s current forces could not stop all the monsters slipping through.

Worse still, this northern front was not the only line where the Typhon Empire bordered the Gondor Wasteland. Along the empire’s southwestern frontier, defenses were far weaker than this “forward fortress.” The troops there had no inkling that the majestic wall might collapse right before their eyes.

Andersa believed that wherever along the empire’s long border, the soldiers stationed would bravely defend their people and homes. The mutant monsters spilling from the wasteland would meet fierce resistance on every frontier. Once the reports reached Aldern, the National Knights, Royal Mages, and even the Obsidian Guard would be dispatched to the front lines to hold back the enemy. But before that… before the onslaught of uncontrolled monsters was truly halted… how many Typhon lives would be drained? How many cities and villages utterly destroyed?

Andersa gripped her knightly sword tightly. She dared not imagine the horrors that would unfold in her homeland as the majestic wall’s light faded forever. Instead, she fixed her wide eyes on the distant sentinel towers, faintly glowing in the dusk. Then, suddenly, she noticed something—the chaotic light patterns on the towers’ surfaces were slowly returning to order, and the thinning energy shields around them had stopped fading, beginning to solidify once more.

“General! General!” a subordinate’s voice suddenly called out nearby. A young man with dark skin stumbled along the rocky mountain path, rushing toward Andersa, shouting loudly, “General! The sentinel towers have rebooted! Our southern barrier is slowly repairing! The monsters… the monsters are being held back!”

“I see it,” Andersa said calmly, steadying the breathless young officer. She turned her gaze back to the sentinel towers and spoke in a low voice, “Looks like the Silver Elves have finally stabilized their front… What’s happening in the southern continent? Can we contact the Silver Empire or the allied forces of the Highland Kingdom yet?”

“Not yet, General,” the young officer hesitated, then shook his head. “The majestic wall hasn’t fully recovered, and our communications are still heavily disrupted. We can’t pick up any signals from the southern continent.”

“Keep trying,” Andersa said quickly. “And maintain contact with the Cecilian camp. I have a bad feeling… the sentinel towers rebooting won’t solve everything. This ancient barrier has suffered irreversible damage. Tower 98 fell, and other sentinel towers may have been completely destroyed. Even if the Silver Elves restore the shield, those destroyed nodes can’t just rise again from nothing… This war is only just beginning.”

…

The blood-red sunset spilled across the smoke-choked forest edge. Thick plumes of smoke rose endlessly from distant jungles and valleys, towering columns piercing the sky in the dying light. The acrid scent filled the air, as if the whole world were slowly igniting, as if the power of destruction was steadily devouring the land.

Inside the Constellation Sanctuary, the distant shouts and clashes of battle on the ground were silent. Yet the thunderous roar of ancient magical arrays firing still rent the sky again and again, shaking the earth. The towering, ancient sanctuary drifted through the sky like a flying mountain. On one side, the once ornate palace walls had been flung open, decorative panels discarded. Hidden spellcasting mechanisms within now unleashed torrents of devastating fire and lightning upon the land below.

But as these mighty attacks rained down, the ancient facilities themselves began to crumble and break apart. Explosions erupted one after another throughout the sanctuary. Some magical matrices self-destructed even before firing. Thick smoke billowed not only from the ground but also from every corner of this floating anti-gravity fortress.

Suddenly, massive arcs of electricity surged up from the war-torn earth, tearing through the smoky sky. They struck solidly at one of the sanctuary’s anti-gravity engines beneath, which failed to activate its shield in time. A tremendous explosion snuffed out the ancient engine instantly, and the entire airborne fortress shook violently.

“Your Majesty!” a sanctuary tutor rushed to the throne. “The third main engine has shut down! We won’t hold much longer! We must withdraw immediately!”

Bersethia sat upon her pale golden throne, nodding slightly. In truth, even without the report, she could sense the sanctuary’s condition.

Pain. Dying. Overburdened. Burning and tottering.

This ancient anti-gravity fortress was bearing far more than it could endure. Whether providing fire support to the ground or withstanding the mutant horde’s aerial assaults, it was rapidly draining the sanctuary’s dwindling lifespan.

Once, this mighty fortress had known glory in its prime. It ruled the skies and intimidated the earth. It could unleash endless destructive power and withstand any enemy’s crushing blows. In those ancient days, it surely would not have feared the ugly, shallow monsters writhing on the ground.

But now… the Constellation Sanctuary was too old. It was so aged that even staying aloft required every ounce of effort. No matter how much patching and repair, it was only clinging to life.

Burning agony seared through her nerves. Bersethia bore the sanctuary’s pain and heard its voice—it sighed, filled with sorrow.

“The sentinel towers have rebooted,” High Archmage Virania approached the Silver Queen. The powerful court mage’s face was slick with sweat, clearly having just spent all her strength helping Bersethia maintain control over the sanctuary. “The barrier is gradually being restored.”

“Only seventy percent of the towers responded correctly—Master Verania, the barrier is only ‘partially restored,’” Belsethia said, staring intently at Verania. “Deadly breaches have formed. I suspect… some of the towers lost their resistance just moments ago and have been completely destroyed by the enemy. I can no longer sense them.”

“At least we can hold back most of the monsters—buying the civilized world a chance to mount a counterattack before the great collapse,” Verania’s eyes flickered with a hint of doubt, but she quickly regained her composure. “A total barrier failure would be an unstoppable disaster, but if it’s just breaches… those can still be patched.”

Suddenly, a violent tremor shook the air. One of the towers on the side of the Starfall Sanctuary was struck directly by an attack from the ground. The shield failed to fully absorb the blow. Amid the screeching sound of metal tearing, the ancient structure—standing on the sanctuary’s deck for thousands of years—began to crack from the middle, breaking apart uncontrollably as it plummeted toward the earth.

Flames engulfed soldiers and mages as they burst from the ruins. Some fell onto the deck, while others were carried down with the smoking debris, crashing into the blazing forest of the northern borderlands of the Highland Kingdom.

“Your Majesty, our shield is about to fail!” a sanctuary tutor shouted.

Belsethia sighed softly. She knew the airborne fortress had reached its limit. Staying any longer here would be pointless.

Neural signals flowed from her next thought into the Throne of Dominion, transformed into commands the sanctuary’s mechanical soul could understand. Deep within the ancient fortress, a series of roars and low moans echoed as the remaining engine crews adjusted their output. The Starfall Sanctuary slowly turned in the air, heading toward the Silver Empire.

And deep in Belsethia’s mind, she heard a heavy, mournful sigh—for the first time in centuries, this sanctuary had spoken so clearly.

“I know… you are reluctant,” she whispered inwardly, “but there’s nothing more we can do here…”

Her thought was cut short by a terrifying roar and a series of crackling explosions erupting from afar, silencing everyone in the sanctuary’s control hall.

The external monitors flickered on, revealing the distant battlefield with chilling clarity. A horrifying scene unfolded before their eyes.

At the very front of the Highland Kingdom’s defensive line, the sentinel tower that had protected this southern human realm for over seven centuries suddenly erupted in a series of flashes and explosions. Internal energy detonations shook the tower violently. It trembled and swayed before slowly collapsing toward its base…

With a deafening crash, the tower slammed into its foundation. A massive fireball rose instantly, incinerating everything along the defensive line in an instant.

The Highland Kingdom’s legion stationed at the front was wiped out in a flash, along with thousands of elven soldiers who had fought alongside humanity.

At the same moment, the energy barriers flanking the sentinel tower, which had just reignited, flickered wildly before abruptly going dark.

The countless hordes of mutated creatures in the wasteland paused briefly, then surged forward like a black tidal wave, crashing against the Highland Kingdom’s shattered, crumbling border defenses.

(End of chapter)