Chapter 1367: The Entrance
Myrmidona’s words struck a chord deep within Highlord Gawain’s mind. Fleeting hints and vague threads of thought stirred in his consciousness, like shadows shifting behind a veil of mist—still unclear, yet gradually taking shape. His expression grew pensive as those blurred ideas slowly formed a rough outline, and then hardened into something serious.
“So you’re saying,” Gawain began, “the Deep Blue Nexus isn’t just a conduit for magical energy flowing through this planet. It can actually serve as a true ‘pathway’—a gateway to other realms, including the Shadowfell and the Elemental Planes. And those dark priests… they might be trying to open a massive, unprecedented portal. The strange phenomena encountered by the Winter’s Reach and the Antavian Expeditionary Force could all be linked to this unstable gateway?”
“That might be a portal, yes,” Myrmidona replied, locking eyes with him, “but I seriously doubt whether it’s the dark priests’ plan or the Sentinels’ scheme. Remember our last conclusion? The ‘alliance’ between the Sentinels and those Doomsayers of the End of All Things isn’t as seamless as we first thought. Behind the grand vision the Sentinels painted for Bolken, there’s a far darker conspiracy at work…”
“You mean…”
“The dark priests’ goal is to trigger a controlled Deep Blue Cataclysm, transforming this world into an eternal wasteland sealed behind a barrier. That’s their ultimate aim. Whatever new moves they make, theoretically, they’re all steps toward that end,” Myrmidona said gravely. “From my calculations, opening a portal through the Deep Blue Nexus to other realms doesn’t help that goal at all. In fact, it might even backfire—because it would prematurely drain the Nexus’s energy, potentially dooming their ‘barrier plan’ to failure. Although the Nexus theoretically holds infinite power, there’s a limit to how much it can safely expend in a short time. They can’t afford to squander it.”
“I’ve been running models on the Nexus and monitoring energy readings deep in the wasteland. The conclusion is clear: the dark priests must dedicate over ninety percent of the Nexus’s energy to activating the barrier for their plan to have even a sliver of a chance. They would never waste that precious power opening some portal. That can only be the Sentinels’ doing.”
“So it’s the Sentinels trying to secretly open a gateway…” Gawain frowned. “What do you think they intend to do with it?”
“You already have your answer, don’t you?” Myrmidona’s mysterious violet eyes seemed to pierce through him. “Our ambushes along the wasteland’s frontlines have seriously disrupted the Sentinels’ original plan. They may have realized their deployment is doomed to fail. If they see they can’t use the Deep Blue Nexus to turn this world into a death planet, they might settle for a fallback—using something else to destroy us.”
“…That still-operational Voyager ship,” Gawain’s voice dropped low. “I’ve been thinking about it. If they really want to open a gate into the material world, that ship is the only thing I can imagine they’d try to pull through…”
“I hope you’re prepared for the worst,” Myrmidona’s face darkened. The former goddess’s tone was tense. “If the Sentinels really bring that ship into the material realm, no civilization this season can stand against it—neither your sky fortresses nor the dragons still alive in Talrond. None of them could match a starship of that caliber.”
“…I have a plan, but I’m not confident,” Gawain said after a moment’s thought. “I want to know—just how powerful is that ship?”
“I’ve never faced it directly. You know, that ship has always been ‘invisible’ to us,” Myrmidona shook her head. “But Lady Enya once saw a Voyager warship. When we were reviewing the data on the ‘Gate’ project, she saw images of that ship and told me some things. She believes that ship, which patrolled before the Age of the Gods, is a Voyager heavy flagship—designed for the most terrifying, direct combat missions. Its weapons can pierce the divine barriers of the gods. A single ship like that could kill any god ever born on this planet. And if it aimed its main cannon from high orbit at the surface… it could obliterate the planet’s ecosystems in a short time.”
Gawain fell silent, lost in thought. Myrmidona watched him quietly for several minutes before he finally looked up. The “Master of All Laws” asked curiously, “What’s your plan?”
“At this stage, mortal civilizations can’t fight a starship capable of orbital extinction bombardment. The only way to fight a Voyager is with another Voyager,” Gawain said calmly. “If the Sentinels really bring that ship into the material world, the only option might be to lure the Sky Station into firing on it. Lady Enya must have told you about this—the Sky Station’s partial command is currently under my control.”
Myrmidona’s eyes widened slightly. She hadn’t expected Gawain to have such a bold idea. After a moment of surprise, she frowned and shook her head. “That’s certainly… a shocking idea, and maybe the only way. But can you really get the Sky Station to fire on that ship? The Voyager legacy probably has a high-priority friend-or-foe recognition system. Or have your permissions advanced enough to override their identification protocols?”
“That’s the part I’m least sure about,” Gawain admitted with a helpless shake of his head. “The Voyager legacy almost certainly has a priority enemy recognition mechanism, and my method might not bypass it. So unless absolutely necessary, I’d rather stop the Sentinels’ plot before it gets to that point.”
“And if it does come to that?”
“Then I might need a little help from Amon…”
Year 4 of Cecil, Month of Awakening, Day 12.
The war that had engulfed the entire civilized world since last winter showed no sign of abating as the Month of Awakening arrived. For the soldiers stationed at Greta Fortress on the northwest border of the Highland Kingdom, that brutal winter of relentless fire and bloodshed would forever be etched as the harshest season of their lives.
Winter in this southern land was not as cold as in the north, but for the Highland Kingdom’s army—stripped of their forest defenses and forced to watch their homes and kin ravaged by the mutant hordes—every moment of that winter was a piercing chill that cut to the bone.
Now, that cold dread lingered beyond the Month of Frost, still weighing heavily on King Audris’s heart as the Month of Awakening dawned.
A sharp, piercing whistle suddenly tore through the sky. A massive, ominous orb of black-and-red energy streaked over the army’s ranks, distorting the air and light as it arced toward a small hill behind the lines. Atop that hill stood a giant magical crystal, the power source for the battle mages. Layers of intricate runes swirled around the crystal, and the moment the orb approached, a radiant barrier flared to life.
The orb slammed into the shield with a deafening explosion, like ten thunderclaps roaring simultaneously in the king’s ears.
The magical barrier trembled violently, barely holding against the devastating blast. The chaotic energy released by the orb’s detonation scattered in all directions, transforming into a deadly hailstorm that rained down on the soldiers around the hill. Ordinary infantry could not withstand this “rain of light.” One agonized scream after another pierced the air as casualties mounted rapidly—until knights and mages forced up a second barrier, barely stabilizing the faltering line.
Shouts and battle cries echoed all around. Magic missiles, heavy crossbows, and arcane cannons thundered like storms, shaking the scarred earth. The battle mages’ camp, freshly battered by the bombardment, began to strike back. Above the camp, a massive magical array slowly took shape in the sky, its angle tilted toward the vast northern wasteland.
On that scorched wasteland, countless grotesque mutants surged forward like a tidal wave. Behind the wave stood colossal “beasts” the size of houses, arrayed in artillery formation. These terrifying monsters had parallel bony rails extending from their backs, crackling with electric energy. They drove their mutated claws deep into the earth, transforming themselves into powerful siege engines, preparing to unleash another devastating barrage on the mortal lines.
High-energy beams rained down like a storm. The battle mages completed their charge, and the giant array began releasing energy onto the ground. Scores of mutants disintegrated under the onslaught, but the massive “beasts” preparing their next salvo remained almost untouched. The next volley of black-and-red orbs was already hurtling toward them…
The earth trembled beneath their feet, the smoke-choked wind thick with the stench of blood. King Audris, tall and clad in black armor, wiped the blood and sweat from his face with force. Standing inside a makeshift command post behind cover, he turned to a nearby officer.
“We have to find a way to take down those ‘beasts’! Their bombardment is a huge threat to our infantry, and the battle mages’ power is draining fast!”
“Your Majesty, that’s beyond the mages’ range—only the arcane cannons can reach them, but we’re almost out of ammunition!” the officer shouted. “We may have to fall back to Greta Fortress!”
“Damn it! We lost thousands of lives to retake this pass. If we get pushed back to Greta again, those cursed monsters will be right at our doorstep, firing magic shells at us!” Audris roared in frustration. The hot-tempered king was furious at the thought of losing the hard-won ground. “Where the hell are these monsters coming from?!”
“Your Majesty, they’re another mutant force advancing south from the western front. It looks like they’ve linked up with the ‘reinforcements’ pouring out from the wasteland’s interior…”
Audris cursed again, his coarse words echoing through the frontline command post.
At that moment, a young man in light armor burst into the command post. Audris’s anger abruptly ceased. He looked at the youth and called out loudly, “Lorren! What’s the situation? When will our reinforcements arrive?”
“Father, the Solin Guard can’t support us,” Prince Lorren wiped sweat from his brow and shook his head regretfully. “General Lomar sent word: if the situation worsens, we must immediately withdraw to Greta Fortress. The elves can’t send aid anytime soon.”
Audriston’s eyes widened instantly. “What’s happening with the Silver Elves?!”
The Silver Elves never abandoned their allies. When the forest barrier line collapsed, they even let the Starfall Sanctuary crash to the earth rather than give up on the Highland Kingdom. So Audriston’s first thought was that the Silver Elves must be facing a crisis as well.
Lorren caught his breath and quickly reported, “The Silver Elves’ purification towers and two forward bases near the Starfall Sanctuary crash site are under heavy assault. A horde of aberrations far larger than before is pouring out of the wasteland. The Sorin Guard and the Millennium Legion have been dispatched east to hold the purification devices and forward bases at all costs.”
Hearing this, Audriston inhaled slowly, realizing the situation had indeed reached this critical point.
The Silver Elves had already begun constructing the blockade walls. The large-scale purification devices had provoked the mad creatures in the wasteland—those fiends must have realized what the Alliance was trying to do, and now they were willing to stop the purification at any cost.
But Audriston knew one thing clearly: the blockade walls had to be built, no matter what. Without those walls, the wasteland’s power would be endless, and the corruption would never be cleansed from this land. The war would drag on forever. If the walls failed, all mortal kingdoms would eventually be dragged down and destroyed on the battlefield by those monsters.
A blockade wall pushing relentlessly into the wasteland, facing an aberration army equally determined to stop the mortal alliance at all costs—this tall human king could almost smell the sharp, metallic scent of blood, a scent that would soon spread a chilling cold over the entire southern front.
As if to remind Audriston that even harder times were coming, a faint chill suddenly brushed against the king’s cheek.
“Damn it… it’s starting to rain…” The commander beside him looked up at the sky, which had darkened without warning. As the rain thickened, the slender middle-aged soldier frowned. “This only makes things worse for us, Your Majesty. We need to prepare.”
But Audriston remained silent.
“Your Majesty?”
The commander spoke again, prompting Audriston to shift slightly. He lifted his gaze to the increasingly gloomy sky, where clouds were gathering at an unnatural speed. His expression suddenly twisted into something strange.
“It’s raining… The meteorologists predicted clear skies today…” Prince Lorren murmured, as if recalling something. “Father, do you remember the news from the north a few days ago? Reinforcements are coming by sea, and their arrival is marked by rain.”
The commander beside them suddenly caught on. He recalled the recent report but hesitated, uncertain. “Is it really them? Or could this just be a natural shower? The meteorologists aren’t always—”
Audriston cut him off, eyes fixed on the sky, voice suddenly firm. “It’s them. I’m certain now.”
“Huh?” The commander blinked in surprise. “How can you be sure—”
Audriston pointed upward. “That cloud has a giant smiling face drawn on it, with an arrow pointing straight at the enemy lines. You try finding a ‘naturally formed’ cloud like that.”
(End of chapter)