Chapter 1379: A Discovery on the Alliance Frontline

Amid the Alliance’s full-scale counteroffensive against the Wasteland, the northern front—held by the main forces of the Cecil Empire—stood out as one of the most striking scenes across this vast battlefield. But this distinctiveness wasn’t due to the Empire’s mechanized legions or their ever-evolving arsenal of new weapons. Rather, it was because, throughout the entire campaign, a lush, living “forest” advanced alongside the imperial soldiers…

This was the “far-reaching offshoot” of the towering Sorin Trees—a living forest that began at the southern foothills of the Dark Mountains and spread both above and below ground. It extended steadily, almost imperceptibly, into the Wasteland. Now, it had pushed forward with the Empire’s main forces to the highlands south of the Mana Scorch Marks. Wherever this living forest reached, even the corrupted, polluted Wasteland began to show signs of renewed vitality.

At least on the surface, the vibrant greenery was far more uplifting than the desolate, terrifying wasteland. As for the less “pleasant” secrets buried deep within the forest… the imperial soldiers had simply grown accustomed to them over time.

Night gradually fell, and the scorching battlefield cooled. The giant cannons and roaring engines that had thundered all day fell silent under the dusk sky. The soldiers had already erected temporary defenses along the forest’s edge and were resting up for tomorrow’s operations. Philip walked through the newly established camp, the distant shouts of commands and the hum of dragonrider fighter jets overhead sounding like the most familiar noises he’d heard in days.

His gaze passed over the energy barrier to the south of the camp, taking in the vast, barren land stretching to the horizon. The tainted earth was scarred and ravaged, pocked with craters blasted by shells and scorched by flames. Ashes of mutated beasts—gray-black and lifeless—and the torn remains of bio-synthetic monsters littered the shell holes. Smoke still rose from the warm craters, drifting like a thin veil in the weak, yellowing sunset.

But when he turned his eyes to the other side of the camp, he saw a sprawling, thriving forest. Countless towering trees of unknown species filled the view. Their massive roots plunged powerfully into the purple-black soil, while dense underbrush and a variety of low-growing flowers and shrubs flourished beneath their trunks. If one didn’t know the truth, they’d think this was just an ordinary, vibrant forest.

Focusing solely on the forest, no one would guess that just beyond its borders lay the forbidden zone of the Gondor Wasteland.

Even Philip himself felt a strange, almost absurd dissonance when he saw this living forest advancing with the army—as if the Wasteland had somehow been healed, and the pollution just beyond the trees had lost its grip on reality.

But he knew better. The “vitality” this living forest projected was only a temporary illusion. The pollution in the Wasteland still spread relentlessly. Beneath even the densest foliage, a constant battle raged—Beltira’s life force fought against the toxins, her roots tangled with the networks of the dark priests. This struggle was endless. Only the purification devices built along the advancing front could truly halt the spread of corruption.

Footsteps approached, and Philip heard Light’s voice beside him. “It’s incredible… a world full of life moving forward with us. Honestly, when I first heard the Sorin Trees were involved in the battle, I never imagined it would come to this.”

Philip nodded slightly, then spoke with a hint of awe, “You know, the Black Forest at the southern foothills of the Dark Mountains completely vanished yesterday afternoon.”

Light’s expression shifted to surprise. Before he could ask, Philip continued, “To gather more biomass and ease the production pressure on the biomass synthesis factories along the line, Lady Beltira has been competing with that Black Forest for nutrients. It turns out… the wild, rampant Black Forest couldn’t outgrow the tactically savvy Lady Beltira. That terrifying forest, which had sealed off civilized lands for seven hundred years, was literally starved to death. Some of the trees we see now have biomass stripped from the remains of the Black Forest.”

Even the usually composed Light was momentarily at a loss for words. In the old Ansar era, the Black Forest at the Dark Mountains’ southern foothills was a well-known “dead end” in the northern realms—a dreadful legacy of the old magical cataclysm and a symbol of humanity’s decline. It was spoken of in the same breath as dragon lairs, dark dungeons, and wizard fortresses. Parents used it to scare disobedient children, and reckless mercenaries and adventurers boasted of their “Black Forest expeditions” to prove their bravery and experience. And now, this once-feared natural fortress had simply disappeared—starved out by the Sorin Trees. Where could anyone even begin to argue with that?

Light wasn’t sure what long-term impact this would have, but one thing was certain: future adventurers wouldn’t be able to brag about the Black Forest anymore.

“Well, it’s a good thing,” Light finally shook his head. “Our transport convoys will be much safer passing through the former Black Forest, and the engineers at South Gate Fortress won’t have to go out two or three times a year to burn back the encroaching plants.”

Philip nodded. Just then, a faint rustling sound came from nearby. Light turned toward it and spotted a wrinkled, brown-black “vine” darting swiftly along the camp’s edge through the bushes. The vine seemed to notice them, curved around, and quickly approached Philip and Light.

Philip saw the vine curling tightly around a large chunk of what looked like a beast’s torn flesh—likely a remnant of the bio-synthetic beasts from the Wasteland army. Normal mutants would quickly turn to ash after death, but these synthetic creatures, mass-produced by the dark priests using some kind of magical beast as a template, left behind such “corpses.”

The vine shook the chunk of flesh up and down in front of Philip. The young commander was momentarily stunned, but Light quickly reacted. He grabbed a heavy flamethrower, turned the output to minimum, and directed the flame onto the meat. With a hiss, the fire seared the flesh, cooking it to about seventy or eighty percent done—carefully avoiding the vine holding the meat.

The vine wagged the cooked meat up and down in front of Light, as if expressing thanks. Philip was dumbfounded. “Wait… Lady Beltira’s started eating cooked food?”

“Sometimes,” Light explained. “At first, a white knight casually tossed some cooked bio-beast meat to the foraging vines. Lady Beltira seemed pleased, and soon more soldiers began offering roasted meat to the passing vines. Sometimes, Lady Beltira herself picks up meat from the battlefield and asks soldiers with flamethrowers to cook it. Didn’t you notice?”

Philip: “…I had no idea!”

The young commander was stunned for a moment, then a twitch appeared at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know… this feels kind of strange. So, our soldiers and this living forest are getting along pretty… well?”

“We’re comrades fighting side by side,” Light said earnestly. “Besides, the forest also provides soldiers with some fruit and disinfected water, which are precious supplies on the front lines. The soldiers appreciate it.”

Philip’s mouth twitched again. He thought to himself, this must be what they call feeding each other.

Just then, the portable magic network terminal hanging on his chest buzzed sharply. After the connection was established, a soldier’s urgent voice came through: “Sir! The reconnaissance squad surveying the southeast terrain has found something!”

Philip and Byron exchanged a glance. Philip furrowed his brow. “What exactly did you find?”

“It appears to be an abandoned ancient facility—the main structure remains incredibly intact, and there seems to be a faint energy flow deep inside,” the soldier reported. “No mutant activity around the site. The squad is holding a remote watch and hasn’t ventured inside.”

“Good. Have them hold position there. The expert team will arrive shortly,” Philip said quickly into the comm. Then he looked at Light. “I think I need to see this for myself. What do you think it could be?”

“Whatever it is, a ‘relic’ that remains structurally intact in this Wasteland is unusual,” Light said seriously. “Either it’s extremely lucky, or it’s protected by some higher power. You should take a look in person.”

…

The reconnaissance site wasn’t far from the frontline base—well within the artillery’s protective range. So Philip set out with the expert team and soon found the waiting scouts on the barren plains. Then he saw the “ancient facility” they’d described.

It was a large complex perched on a highland, composed of a cylindrical main building topped with a curved dome and several smaller annexes. Standing in the dimming sunset, the structure’s surface was coated with a rust-like patina. Centuries of erosion and accumulating sand had turned the entire complex a gray-black color, blending it almost seamlessly with the surrounding earth and partially burying it in dust. This camouflage explained why the dragonrider pilots hadn’t spotted it during aerial reconnaissance, mistaking it for jagged boulders.

But the weathered, mottled exterior was only skin deep. Most of the structure still stood intact on the land. From the towering main walls and the building’s clean, elegant rooflines, Philip could faintly discern its former grandeur. As a technological marvel of the ancient Gondor Empire, it exuded a desolate yet mysterious aura.

“When we found it, the magical detection device immediately started showing faint, intermittent fluctuations,” the soldier who first discovered the facility reported to Philip, saluting before pulling out the handheld sensor. The small device, embedded with runes for magic detection and a miniature focusing crystal, projected a shifting light display. Yet the lines within the projection remained blurry. “There might still be something operating deep inside the facility—we found an entrance on its side but didn’t rush in.”

“Good call,” Philip nodded. “Anything suspicious in the wasteland should be handled by experts.” He glanced back at the technicians who had accompanied him—specialists with solid backgrounds in archaeology and classical magic. Compared to ordinary soldiers, and even to him as a general, these experts were far better equipped to deal with the strange relics found in the wasteland. “What’s your take? What do you think this facility was used for?”

“The exact purpose will require further investigation,” said a middle-aged man with graying hair, his gaze flickering repeatedly toward the distant structure. The spark in his eyes betrayed his excitement. “But judging from the current structural clues, it’s unlikely to be military or civilian in nature. Military installations from the Gondor Empire usually had massive energy spark towers. Even if the towers were destroyed, their large bases would leave clear traces. Civilian facilities wouldn’t be built out here, so far from any city clusters… What’s especially intriguing is the energy signature inside. Theoretically, all Gondor-era facilities relied on the Deep Blue energy network for magic supply—but as we know, that network collapsed long ago…”

The scholar spoke rapidly, caught up in his enthusiasm, but quickly realized the general might not want a lengthy lecture at this moment. He restrained himself. “In short, we need to explore further. This is the first relatively intact structure we’ve found in the wasteland so far, and it’s still showing energy activity!”

Philip glanced back at the soldiers behind him—well-trained, well-equipped, battle-hardened through countless harsh campaigns. Even with them at his side, he had to remain extremely cautious.

This was an ancient facility from the Gondor era—no one could say what dangers might lurk inside. Magical traps left by the ancients? Unstable, leaking energy conduits? Or perhaps a malfunctioning iron soldier gone rogue?

Any of those were possible.

In this death-ridden wasteland, ruins that were completely destroyed were dangerous enough—but those that were still “alive” were often far more perilous.

“Sarah, take your squad inside and assess the situation,” Philip instructed the soldiers preparing to enter first. “Everyone stay alert. Don’t touch anything you’re not supposed to. Keep communications open and send back live footage at all times. Don’t venture too deep right away—wait for advice from the technical experts behind us. If you encounter sudden danger, abort the mission and retreat immediately.”

“Yes, General!”

The young soldier named Sarah saluted sharply and led her small team toward the facility.

Philip stayed by the command vehicle, signaling the accompanying technical sergeant to activate the magic network terminal. The scene Sarah’s squad saw was projected as a hologram above the terminal.

(End of chapter)