Chapter 1323: The Burning Crimson Jade Forest
Inside the control center of the Dawn of the Mortal World, the reinforced dome slowly retracted, driven by mechanical gears. Brilliant sunlight filtered through the translucent barrier, bathing the entire hall in a soft, warm glow. A low, steady hum filled the space, punctuated occasionally by alert beeps from various control systems. Holographic projections of all sizes floated above the consoles, while at the center of the hall, in front of the “main brain” containment tank, hovered the largest and most detailed holographic display in the entire control center.
The image clearly showed the vast landscapes of the Ogure tribal lands—real-time surveillance footage shared directly from the main visual neural network of the Dawn of the Mortal World’s core AI.
Rebecca stepped into the control center. The busy technical sergeants and commanding officers immediately snapped to attention, saluting their “Chief Technical Officer” and “Captain of the Dawn of the Mortal World.” Rebecca waved them off, signaling everyone to continue their work. She strode purposefully through the central aisle toward the main brain’s containment tank.
A large shadow swept across the sky, dimming the hall slightly. Rebecca looked up just in time to see a hexagonal aerial platform gliding past above the ship, flanked by several dragon cavalry aircraft escorting it. On either side of the platform floated holographic insignias—an iron fist and a ring, a sword and a plow—symbols of the allied forces.
Lowering her gaze, Rebecca focused on the main brain’s container and the massive holographic projection hovering before it. The mysterious, sprawling mountain ranges of the Ogure tribal lands reflected in her eyes—landscapes starkly different from the northern realms she knew so well. She stared, entranced, and after a long moment, whispered softly, “Ah… such vast mountains… so many trees…”
She glanced around instinctively, relieved to find no one had overheard her quiet murmur. Inwardly, she mused: her literature teacher would surely weep to hear such a simple, heartfelt observation.
“We are approaching the direction of Crimson Jade City—now deep within the communications interference zone,” a voice suddenly came through the nearby speaker. It was the main brain’s synthesized voice. “Currently, communications between fleet units remain stable. Ground communications are still disrupted, but faint automatic distress signals are now being received.”
“So the worst interference is indeed limited to near the surface. Airborne units’ communications are mostly unaffected…” Rebecca said thoughtfully. “And if we’re picking up signals from the ground, that means we’re close enough?”
“Yes, close enough. At this position, we should be able to prioritize restoring communications in the higher altitude areas. The presence of ground signals also indicates that most inland cities within the Ogure tribal lands remain secure,” the main brain responded. “Based on the surface imagery collected so far, the distortions have not spread to this region. However, some mountain forest areas below are shrouded in dense winter fog and low clouds, making visual confirmation difficult from this altitude.”
“Enhance optical scanning. We need to get a clearer picture—track the movements of those monsters and confirm the survival status of local defenders. If that fails, we may have to risk sending some dragon cavalry down for low-altitude reconnaissance.”
As Rebecca finished speaking, a faint bubbling sound came from the main brain’s container. The neutral synthetic voice echoed through the control center: “Understood. Enhancing visual perception systems… System resources allocated. Neural signal priority adjusted…”
The artificial brain issued commands, neural pulses racing through the bio-conduits deep within the Dawn of the Mortal World’s decks. The signals reached the edges of the massive airborne fortress in an instant, triggering peripheral sensory units. Hidden beneath thick armor and anti-gravity engines, a set of extra perception terminals activated. Protected by steel plating, hemispherical pods rotated to face the earth. Inside the crystal-clear shells, several enormous eyeballs snapped wide open, staring intently at the distant mountains and forests—wide, unblinking, and unyielding.
Since adopting a “synthetic brain” as its central control system, the Dawn of the Mortal World had become a half-mechanical, half-biological fortress. To boost the efficiency of its biological components, equipping it with a ring of eyeballs as auxiliary visual sensors was a logical choice.
“Optical scan enhancement mode activated,” the main brain announced solemnly. “Confirming first-time use of this mode. Initiating recording of corresponding neural cluster activity for archival purposes…”
Rebecca nodded. The Dawn of the Mortal World was a fortress rushed into battle, a colossal pinnacle of the Cecil Empire’s magi-biochemical technology. Its internal systems were staggeringly complex, many still untested and unrefined. This western front campaign was not just a military mission—it was a highly specialized trial run. Every system activation during the voyage needed detailed documentation. Perhaps soon, this data would serve as invaluable reference for the construction of a second airborne fortress.
She turned her head toward a nearby technical sergeant at a control station. “How are the adjustments on the supercritical accelerator and the inferno incendiary bombs coming along?”
“The inferno incendiary bomb launchers are fully calibrated and ready for deployment,” the sergeant replied promptly. “However, the supercritical accelerator’s rail charging units remain unstable. Due to incomplete waste energy discharge, the terminal rails suffer severe wear and melt down after about three firings, requiring replacement.”
“Three firings…” Rebecca tapped her forehead, a headache creeping in. “Though our ancestors said weapons are consumables, a main cannon’s rail lasting only three shots seems a bit unreasonable…”
“Maybe we should rethink the approach,” the sergeant hesitated. “We could treat the terminal rails as disposable components—keep costs down and just toss them after firing, like ammunition. Since only the terminal melts, we could redesign the main rail’s coupling structure to make disassembly and replacement easier.”
Rebecca’s eyes lit up. “Hey? That’s actually a pretty good idea—”
Before she could finish, the main brain’s voice interrupted from nearby: “Creator, observing abnormal temperature rise in the eastern mountain region. Possible incident detected.”
…
The cold wind howled through the mountains, coarse dust and snow from the ridges stinging Camilla’s face. Her fur was tangled with the gray-black toxic residue left behind by the slain distorted creatures. The itching discomfort mixed with the burning pain from her wounds constantly assaulted her nerves, but she had long since trained herself to block out these sensations.
Mounted on her loyal direwolf, her companion for many years, she raced along the treacherous mountain path. Behind her, the grotesque howls and whispers of the monsters pursued like a nightmare, the acrid stench nearly invading her mind. Yet the innate power coursing through her blood had ignited, restoring her stamina to its peak. The monsters chasing her were no match.
A sudden whoosh of wind and an inhuman growl sounded at her ear. Without looking back, Camilla raised her battle axe. The next moment, the sickening sensation of flesh, bone, and sinew being cleaved reached her fingertips. Her axe spun in a wide arc, and a twisted, mangled corpse flew past her side. Seizing the brief moment, she glanced back.
Her loyal tribal warriors followed closely, racing with her toward the Crimson Jade Forest Sea. The monsters pouring over the ridgeline were now mere steps behind. The warriors fought fiercely as they ran, slashing down distorted creatures and other mutated beasts. Ugly corpses tumbled into the ravines below. Yet, from time to time, brave warriors were overwhelmed by the overwhelming numbers, swallowed by the black tide in desperate combat.
At the edge of her vision lay the Wolf Ridge mountain defense line, now engulfed in flames. The banners representing the Ogure tribe and the orc clans had vanished. Countless monsters surged over the ridge, rolling and churning the hillside like a living, writhing mass—both chilling and nauseating to behold.
The Wolf Ridge defenses had ultimately fallen. The surviving tribal warriors were forced to retreat. Camilla led the last rear guard squad—or rather, the last remaining soldiers of the rear guard.
They fought with all their might, holding out as long as possible under dire conditions. But no one knew if their endurance was enough, or if the final line beyond the Crimson Jade Forest Sea would hold any meaning. Even Camilla herself was uncertain whether reinforcements from other regions would arrive, or what the situation was along the other defense lines.
They simply did their best. From generals to foot soldiers, all understood this grim truth.
“Don’t hold back your strength! Push into the Crimson Jade Forest Sea!” Camilla shouted to the warriors beside her as the dark red forest loomed just below the mountain’s foot. “Don’t waste the time the spirit shamans have bought us!”
The warriors roared their assent. But in the next instant, a mountain warrior was struck by a crimson energy beam from afar. He and his direwolf tumbled down the mountain path, quickly swallowed by the horde of distorted creatures. The cold wind carried his final furious shout: “Great Chieftain, bear witness for me!!”
A humanoid blaze erupted from the monster swarm—a mountain warrior engulfed in fire, transformed into a three-meter-tall blazing beast. But the flames flickered and died quickly, snuffed out by the corrupting tide.
Camilla withdrew her gaze from behind and silently noted another name. The light around her dimmed—the towering canopy of the Crimson Jade Forest blocked the sky overhead.
She had entered the orcs’ ancient sacred land. The familiar towering ancient trees whispered softly in the wind. She and the last warriors raced through the dense forest. Markings left by retreating tribal soldiers guided their path. Around Camilla and her warriors, the forest’s temperature was steadily rising—though it was deep winter, the forest’s heart was already as warm as midsummer.
The trees blurred past her vision. Camilla caught fleeting glimpses of numerous shadowy figures cloaked in black robes watching silently from the dark undergrowth.
One figure nodded slightly toward her. The wind carried a low voice through the trees: “We hope you will keep your promise, Great Chieftain.”
Camilla replied quietly, “Orcs keep their word.”
The ghostly figures vanished. Heavy impacts and pounding footsteps sounded from behind. Camilla knew—the distorted creatures had broken into the forest.
The forest’s tangled terrain slowed the monsters down just a little, but not for long. Its greatest effect was buying her and the rear-guard soldiers enough time to put some distance between themselves and the aberrations—to escape this hellscape before the entire Crimson Jade Forest was engulfed in flames.
The air grew hotter. Sparks began to scatter through the atmosphere, and the dry, flammable branches of the crimson jade trees crackled ominously. The acrid scent of smoke stung their nostrils…
The ancient city’s towering walls stood firm against the biting wind. Morak led the first waves of evacuees—tribal warriors hastily gathered and ragged soldiers barely regrouped—standing watch atop the ramparts. Across the wide expanse of shattered stone plains, their eyes fixed on the burning forest beyond.
The wind carried the scent of battle, sharp and raw, setting the old orc’s nerves on edge. He gripped his war bow tightly; the bristles on his face bristled, and his pupils narrowed to thin slits.
Beside him, tribal warriors and city shamans manned heavy crossbows, massive bows, and battle rune stones. Amid these ancient, “traditional” defenses were a handful of arcane cannons and several iridescent light generators. Numerous anxious humans and even more tense gray elves repeatedly checked the status of these magical weapons—unfamiliar to most operators, but Morak knew these powerful arms were likely the city’s last hope.
The gray elves had paid dearly to purchase these weapons from the Cecilian people and spent a fortune training specialized “artillerymen.” For the not-so-wealthy orc tribes, maintaining such expensive “advanced toys” was no easy feat. Chief Camilla had pulled many strings and called in countless favors to secure these “treasures” from the shrewd gray elves.
At first, Morak had been indifferent to these costly, complicated devices. But now…
The old orc bitterly regretted not having spent everything they had on more arms.
He had seen the arcane cannons fire—these were far more effective than axes or magic.
His wandering thoughts were cut short.
A plume of smoke rose from the distant Crimson Jade Forest. The thick snow that once blanketed the dense woods had long since melted under the unnatural heat, evaporating into a heavy fog and low-hanging clouds that still hovered above the treetops. And now, flames finally came into view.
He heard a tribal warrior beside him whisper with sorrow, “The Crimson Jade Forest is burning…”
That mournful voice echoed across the ramparts—countless orc warriors stood on the high walls, staring out over the stone plains toward the horizon.
That sacred land, so deeply meaningful to them, was now ablaze before their eyes.
Morak’s heart ached at the sight of the burning forest, but his focus remained fixed on the open pass between the plains and the woods.
The fire was spreading fast, thick smoke and roaring flames devouring everything in the forest.
At last, dozens of figures riding dire wolves appeared in Morak’s sight.
Camilla burst out of the Crimson Jade Forest, racing alongside the few remaining rear-guard soldiers across the wild, untamed land of Augure. The blazing sun was slowly dipping toward the western horizon, and behind her, the entire Crimson Jade Forest had already erupted into a raging inferno.
(End of chapter)