Chapter 1325: Medical Aid

The Celestial Dawn, a colossal orbital fortress battle group, entered the battlefield and began a swift, overwhelming purge of the mutant hordes besieging Crimson Jade City. Tons of railgun shells rained down like meteor showers from the massive anti-gravity bastions, unleashing a roaring tidal wave of explosions and shockwaves along the northern defensive line. The towering, muscular “behemoths,” as fearsome as siege engines, were rendered as fragile as paper under the fortress’s relentless bombardment. The ordinary mutants clustered around them shattered instantly into a cloud of fragments.

Yet these fearless monsters did not scatter and collapse after a single volley like the noble armies had before. Nor were they defenseless against aerial attacks—numerous specialized creatures quickly reacted within the Black Tide.

First came the surviving “behemoths” from the initial strike. These ranged units, armed with ray cannons, anchored themselves to the ground with bone spikes. Their parallel charging structures on their backs aimed skyward, humming as they gathered energy. Hundreds, even thousands, of dark red beams shot upward, targeting the massive, conspicuous floating platforms.

Then appeared a new kind of monster, unseen on the northern front before. Their swollen, water-bag-like heads housed grotesquely mutated brains that pulsed and writhed beneath translucent skulls. These creatures clearly possessed levitation and far stronger spellcasting abilities. Using some form of anti-gravity magic, they ascended into the sky, flailing their multi-jointed, overgrown arms to summon flames and lightning, lumbering toward the seemingly clumsy, slow-moving Celestial Dawn.

But the Celestial Dawn was not defenseless—it carried a “swarm.”

With a series of mechanical clicks and whirs, suspension mounts on both sides of the fortress opened, releasing a swarm of dragonrider fighters long prepared for deployment. These agile anti-gravity aircraft screamed through the air like banshees, instantly filling the space between the floating platforms. Their small ray cannons and arcane missile launchers wove a precise web of fire, raining down charred, blackened flesh.

Yet the “swarm” aboard the Celestial Dawn was far more than just dragonrider fighters. As more mutants flooded the battlefield, a central hatch slowly opened amid a gust of wind. One by one, massive figures leapt from the open bay, spreading enormous wings against the blood-red twilight.

They were the first wave of dragon expeditionaries from Tarlond, alongside draconic mercenaries from the Holy Dragon Principality. Some had crossed boundless seas, others traversed endless mountain ranges. Bound by sacred alliance, these warriors from distant lands boarded the human empire’s anti-gravity fortress to join the battle on the continent’s western front.

Under the encroaching night sky, the fierce flames and magical radiance lit the world as brightly as day. Morak stared in stunned silence at the unimaginable scene before him. After a long moment, he muttered, gazing at the dragons and fighters soaring in the distance, “Looks like I really am old… Is this what modern warfare has become?”

“No, it’s just that the Cecilian style has always been a bit different from everyone else’s,” Camilla murmured instinctively, then turned her attention to the holographic projection emerging from the arcane network terminal. “Princess Rebecca, thank you so much for your support…”

“You’re welcome, you’re welcome. And it’s thanks to your steadfast defense that we’ve held this long,” Rebecca said quickly from the Celestial Dawn’s command chamber, waving at the comm device. “Our biggest fear was losing Crimson Jade City. If those monsters spread into the heart of Augray, the situation would spiral out of control. Even with the Celestial Dawn, it would be hard to contain. Thankfully, you’ve held the line.”

As she spoke, her gaze shifted to the surface projection generated by the mainframe. The raging inferno engulfing the Crimson Jade Forest filled nearly half the screen. The blazing sea of fire was less spectacular and more awe-inspiring. Before arriving, she had heard from Lady Wenna Whitebloom about the orc territories, but she never imagined the Crimson Jade Forest would burn so fiercely before her eyes.

This fire wasn’t set by the mutants. Though they used flames in attacks, they wouldn’t deliberately burn a barrier around themselves. The blaze was the orcs’ doing—to block the enemy.

Rebecca wasn’t a military expert, but the Celestial Dawn’s commanders and strategists had explained that this tactic was effective. Without the fire, the mutants breaking through the northern defenses would merge with those from the east, possibly bypassing Crimson Jade City altogether and entering Augray’s heartland through southern routes. Worse still, the entire region would rapidly become a wasteland. Even the Celestial Dawn’s power couldn’t cover such a vast battlefield. In the worst case, she might be forced to watch helplessly from the fortress as the kingdom turned into an extension of the Gondor Wastelands.

Shaking her head, Rebecca refocused. “Chief Chieftain Camilla, how are things on your end?”

“Crimson Jade City is holding. We’ve stalled the enemy’s main force, and the city itself hasn’t suffered much damage yet,” Camilla replied rapidly, scanning the distant horizon from the city walls. That was where the human King Wickliff’s troops were stationed. “The monsters are pouring in from the northern defenses. We’ve lost contact with the human legions there. That area lacks the natural barriers like the Wolfspine Mountains and the mountain ranges. Princess Rebecca, whether the defenders there still stand or not, we must seal that breach.”

“Understood. We’ve dispatched a unit to reinforce that position,” Rebecca said swiftly. As she spoke, two “Gorgon” airborne fortresses detached from the Celestial Dawn and accelerated toward the northern Wolfspine Mountains. Dozens of dragonrider fighters escorted them like a protective swarm, disappearing into the distance.

Seeing this, Camilla finally exhaled in relief atop the city walls.

Meanwhile, at the mountain pass north of Wolfspine, the ancient fortress cluster had been razed to the ground by the Black Tide.

The mutant horde surged like a muddy flood across the land, tearing apart towns and banners that symbolized civilization’s glory beneath their feet. After the last resistance here crumbled, the entire region became the mutants’ domain. Dark purple-black clouds thickened overhead, and the soil and rocks took on a grim, decayed hue. Anyone familiar with wastelands would immediately recognize that the mutant numbers and their prolonged presence had crossed a critical threshold. Their corrupting power was poisoning the local magical environment. The Gondor Wastelands were creeping ever closer to the civilized realms.

The transformation had begun.

Night fell, and the Black Tide’s rampage only intensified. Amid the darkness, a faint glimmer remained—the last flicker of light standing deep within the ruins of the ancient fortress “Falm.”

King Wickliff and his final warriors huddled behind a magical barrier. Nearby, a longsword with a golden guard was planted in the ground. Its blade was shattered, fragments suspended midair by magic, emitting a gentle glow that sustained the last shield in the ruins. Wickliff knew this would be the final radiance of the heirloom sword, passed down since Gondor’s age. Once the barrier failed, the sacred relic representing the Western Line’s human expeditionary force would have fulfilled its purpose.

But he felt neither sorrow nor joy. He no longer needed the sword.

The king’s right hand was empty—his entire arm lost. Healing magic sealed the wound, but only as a bandage.

Chaotic howls and chilling whispers echoed across the land. The mutant horde surged like a tide around the fortress ruins. The last soldiers and drained mages leaned against crumbling walls, their eyes void of expression—only numbness remained.

Wickliff knew the monsters outside sensed his presence. If they concentrated their strength, the barrier propped up by the overtaxed holy sword was not unbreakable. If they were mindless beasts, instinct would drive them to attack. Yet they merely surged past the ruins, as if ignoring the last survivors in the darkness.

This meant the commanders behind the monsters no longer cared about this tiny flicker of light. The few remaining humans on the vast battlefield were meaningless. Concentrating forces here would only slow the horde’s advance. The commanders only needed to maintain the siege and wait for the barrier to fail.

The battle here was over. The survivors in the dark were simply breathing their last.

“Your Majesty,” a one-eyed officer suddenly broke the silence, “give the order. We can break out—you might still…”

Wickliff raised his remaining left hand, his voice low and firm, cutting him off. “Retreat is pointless and impossible. We failed to hold this line. The land behind us is a mutant nest. We’ll rest within the barrier as long as we can. When it falls, we break out and kill as many as possible. Death is certain—then let us die with purpose.”

The legion fell silent, staring at their king. After a few seconds, he nodded solemnly and returned to his resting place.

Suddenly, a soldier looked up, puzzled, toward the dark sky. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what? Just those disgusting monster howls…” another muttered. “I don’t hear anything else.”

“No, I really heard something—from the sky…” The first soldier stood, peering through the broken wall at the distant heavens. “There’s definitely a sound… Look, it’s lighting up over there!”

A low, rumbling hum was indeed coming from the sky. Even Wickliffe, deep in thought, caught the strange sound. Slowly rising to his feet, he looked up in surprise, trying to pinpoint its source. But before his eyes could focus, a sharp, piercing whistle suddenly tore through the cold winter night.

A blazing fireball plummeted from the distant sky, crashing onto the open ground outside the “Falm” fortress. With a thunderous explosion, a towering inferno erupted!

Wickliffe’s eyes widened. Reflected in his dark pupils, a meteor shower rained down from the heavens.

One fireball after another fell from the distant sky, interspersed with massive white spheres of light. The once dark and frigid night abruptly brightened as if it were broad daylight. The fiery orbs illuminated the darkness and literally set the entire mountain pass ablaze—before the eyes of the last defenders on this land, the unstoppable “Black Tide” was momentarily halted by this celestial rain of fire and light!

And this was only the beginning.

From the shadows of the night, two colossal steel fortresses, palace-like and shielded by faint glowing barriers, emerged from the clouds. One fortress scattered meteor fire along its path, while the other was lined with countless massive rune arrays along its edges. Sacred white orbs continuously descended to the earth, vaporizing the dark, twisted creatures of the wasteland like mist. After this fiery “clearing,” numerous smaller warplanes dove toward the ground, dropping bombs that swiftly cleared a vast area.

Then, to Wickliffe’s stunned and bewildered gaze, the fortress radiating holy light began to descend toward the earth—

Under the cover of another airborne fire platform, the fortress landed beside the ruins of the “Falm” stronghold. The open, level ground was still crawling with mutated beasts, but their feeble resistance failed to scratch the steel plating on the fortress’s sides. Hundreds, even thousands, of monsters were crushed beneath the sprawling support struts extending from the fortress or charred to cinders by the scorching jets of heat vented from its cooling grids.

The earth trembled heavily as the massive structure settled. At last, Wickliffe caught sight of its upper levels—a grand cathedral forged from steel, standing proudly at the platform’s center. Above the cathedral, a radiant light screen projected twin emblems: an iron fist encircled by a ring, and a sword crossed with a plowshare. Surrounding the cathedral were countless turrets, spikes, and thick armored plates. Massive banners inscribed with sacred scriptures hung from the cathedral’s peak, and under the glow of searchlights, these banners seemed to emanate an endless aura of holiness in the night.

Then, in the next moment, the banners were suddenly raised by mechanical devices atop the cathedral. Armor plates etched with sacred prayers slid open to the sides. From the cathedral’s base, one by one, dark jet nozzles extended, spewing forth holy flames. The mutated creatures that had just regrouped after the earlier bombardment didn’t even have time to react before they were consumed as kindling in the unrelenting blaze.

“Boom!”

A thunderous sound echoed through the night as the cathedral’s heavy steel doors swung open. A fully armored White Knight strode out, followed by others clad in thick armor and battle nuns wielding war staves. From the cathedral’s “Sacred Armory” on either side, heavy tanks adorned with scripture banners and inscribed with prayers of holy light on their track guards roared onto the field. These medical personnel, landing in the darkness of Falm fortress, set foot on the ground, and from among them came a deep, resonant voice:

“The doctors have arrived!”

(End of chapter)