Chapter 1399: The Mantis

After enduring more than twenty consecutive strikes from the supercritical accelerators, the living mountain once again stirred. Its dark surface, stretching kilometer after kilometer, writhed with nauseating waves. The colossal bio-cannons amassed energy even more potent than before. For a brief moment, the entire battlefield seemed to fall into an eerie silence.

The soldiers had witnessed the cataclysmic power of the supercritical accelerator bombardments. So when the “Creeping Calamity” emerged from such a terrifying barrage seemingly unscathed, everyone who saw it was struck with a mix of awe and dread.

Not entirely unscathed, though—the accelerator’s energy cores had indeed carved a series of gruesome wounds across the creature’s surface. The “material critical effect” of the magic energy had vaporized hundreds, even thousands, of tons of its flesh and tissue, gouging out vast pits, trenches, and fissures in its upper layers. Scalding fluids steamed upward, condensing into a low-hanging cloud that cloaked the living mountain like a dark storm. Shards of torn flesh rained down like a torrential downpour. Yet, even in this hellish state, the Creeping Calamity remained highly active—and it was beginning to strike back.

Magic projectiles tinged with blue light screamed through the air toward the great shield of the Dawn of the Mortal World. Several shots, almost all aimed at the same spot. Nearby, the Gorgon Fortress raised its shields immediately, attempting to intercept the deadly assault. But the Creeping Calamity’s fire control system was extraordinarily precise—previously, its magic shells had even struck tiny reconnaissance drones hidden within turbulent magic currents. The Dawn of the Mortal World was a massive target, and the Gorgons’ interception failed.

A cataclysmic explosion blossomed on the surface of the fortress’s shield. In the dim light of the wasteland, it was as if a new sun had risen in an instant. Waves of energy rippled outward in concentric circles, momentarily dispersing the heavy clouds over the Talash Plains. For a fleeting moment, sunlight—long absent—bathed the land.

A harsh, grating sound like shattering crystal echoed through the decks of the Dawn of the Mortal World. The great shield was suddenly flooded with countless interference noises. Shield generators along the deck’s edges caught fire and exploded one after another. This barrage was far more powerful than any previous attack. After a brief delay of two or three seconds, a terrifying rupture sounded on the shield.

Destructive energy poured through the breach, igniting searing flames and crackling high-energy lightning that swept across the deck.

The entire control hall shook violently, metal grinding as if the colossal ship might tear itself apart. Bubbles rose from the mainframe’s wetware slots as it instantly took over the fortress’s damage control systems. Within seconds, numerous compartments were sealed off. Tons of fire suppressants, sealants, and magic inertants surged through the fortress’s pipes, dousing every damaged area. Amid the blaring alarms, Jina Prince gripped the railing tightly and shouted, “Report damage status! Report target condition!”

“The shield has been partially breached. Half of the shield generators are destroyed. Redundancy systems are activating. Decks A-2 through A-7 have suffered extensive melting. Damage assessments of corridors and compartments in the affected sectors are underway. Main power has dropped to 76%. Flight systems remain operational. Other damage is still being tallied,” the mainframe’s voice announced coldly through the hall. “Target activity continues to rise. Energy reactions within the target are expected to peak again in ten minutes… Scans detect high-density energy flows deep underground within the Creeping Calamity, suspected to be linked to its reactivation.”

Jina felt a buzzing in her head. The tremors in the hall were gradually subsiding. The massive fortress had withstood that dreadful blow—but the mainframe’s report weighed heavily on her heart. High-density energy flows deep beneath the Creeping Calamity… After a moment of stunned silence, she understood what this meant.

This was the Deep Blue Well, the energy nexus of the old Gondor Empire. Though the empire had vanished from history, the energy currents of the Deep Blue Well had never faded. The only source of high-density energy deep beneath this land was the Deep Blue Network.

“That monster has sunk its tendrils into the Deep Blue Network… It’s drawing the planet’s energy to fuel its attacks,” Jina said, wiping blood she hadn’t noticed trickling down her forehead. Her eyes locked onto the distant scene displayed in the hologram. “Mainframe, how are you holding up? Can you maintain full-power operations?”

The mainframe’s water tank bubbled faintly pink. A viscous pale yellow fluid slowly flowed through a connected conduit. A neutral synthetic voice echoed in the hall: “Currently overloaded. Some neural systems damaged. Overall control efficiency reduced to 80%. Manual computational assistance required.”

Jina Prince glanced at the immersion pods arrayed near the mainframe’s slots. Their silver-metallic cabins stood open, the neural contact points on the seats gleaming coldly under the lights.

“…All commanders, enter immersion pods,” Jina ordered in a low voice. “Order the Gorgon fleet to reload the supercritical accelerators. Await the Dawn of the Mortal World’s command. Prepare to fire again.”

At the supreme commander’s command, the officers in the control hall moved swiftly. Without hesitation, they lay down in their numbered immersion pods, sealed the lids within seconds, and entered deep neural connection states—linking their minds directly to the fortress’s systems. Only a handful of officers, including Jina, remained in the physical world to continue directing the battle.

Using immersion pods to assist in controlling the Dawn of the Mortal World was an emergency system built into the fortress from the start. In the fiercest battles, when the situation was most dire, the fortress’s controllers could link their brains directly to the ship, augmenting the mainframe’s power. This boosted the fortress’s operational efficiency and combat flexibility to an incredible degree—but at a cost: the operators’ lives became bound to the fortress’s systems.

Shield overloads, turret destruction, armor breaches—each damage sustained by the Dawn of the Mortal World sent direct neural shocks to those connected. Steel bodies, steel fates.

The vast command hall suddenly felt “empty.” Jina stared at the now-quiet immersion pods, took a deep breath, and returned her gaze to the holographic projection. The targeting reticle reappeared at the center of the screen. She steadied herself and called out, “Gunnery chief, report on the supercritical accelerators.”

Only silence answered.

“Gunnery chief, report on the supercritical accelerators,” Jina called again after a pause. “The Dawn of the Mortal World must reengage. Gunnery chief, report your status—”

Static crackled through the comms. Then, through the interference, Jina heard Rebecca’s voice: “This is Rebecca Cecil. The gunnery chief is KIA. The deputy commander and the secondary gunnery officer are also down. I’m now in direct command of the accelerator array.”

Jina froze for a moment, then instinctively said, “Your Highness, you—”

“I’m listening to your orders,” Rebecca’s voice came again, muffled by static. Jina couldn’t read the imperial princess’s emotions or imagine the situation on her end. “Reloading is complete. When do we fire?”

Jina looked at the distant scene in the hologram. The living mountain covering the land was slowly undulating, its surface scarred with countless horrifying wounds. The heat from the previous magic shells still lingered, warping the distant sky. The thick clouds that had once been dispersed were gathering again. Under the dim light, faint blue streams of energy began to rise from the creature’s flesh-riven valleys, signaling it was preparing for another fierce assault.

“Now,” Jina Prince said simply.

In the next instant, a roar of energy turbulence echoed from deep within the Dawn of the Mortal World, followed by the staggering impact of the supercritical accelerators firing. The entire fortress shook violently. Over a dozen blinding beams shot forth like spears toward the horizon. Almost simultaneously, the Gorgon fortresses nearby roared in unison, their bright “cannon fire” streaking through the atmosphere, tearing the sky, and striking the Creeping Calamity’s surface with brutal force.

Deafening explosions swept across the distant land. Mushroom clouds and blood-red mists—vaporized flesh and tissue—enveloped the Deep Blue Well in a storm vortex. The Creeping Calamity’s brewing attack was interrupted by this sudden, fierce counterstrike. The energy drawn from the Deep Blue Well surged wildly across the land, crackling like a pack of rampaging beasts as it tore across half the Talash Plains.

Across the Talash Plains, every frontline of the alliance witnessed this terrifying clash. They saw the flashes lighting the sky and smoke columns erupting like a hundred volcanoes. They were awestruck by a scene beyond myth and legend—but none had the luxury to savor the spectacle. The tide of mutants surged relentlessly, attacking every “End Tower” defense line.

Jina Prince fixed her gaze on the thick clouds at the horizon. Within the dense fog, the Creeping Calamity’s condition was invisible to the naked eye. Powerful energy interference rendered many of the Dawn of the Mortal World’s sensors unable to scan the target’s energy signature. She heard a low voice from a nearby commander: “Is it over…?”

“The target still exists.”

The mainframe’s emotionless voice echoed through the hall like a cold winter wind cutting through summer.

On the holographic projection, the thick smoke at the far edge of the land was just blown away by a sudden gust of wind. As the cloud of superheated steam, dust, and radioactive energy dispersed, a massive black organism slowly writhing into view caught everyone’s attention. The sight was harrowing: nearly all its tentacles and limbs had been blasted away by energy strikes, vast patches of its flesh had been reduced to the clouds above and the scorching blood rain falling over the nearby battlefield. Lava flowed across the ground, some of it even seeping back into the creature’s body. Parts of its “organs” bubbled and smoked as they simmered in the molten rock.

Yet this symbol of calamity was still alive—and a slow process of regeneration had begun.

Jinna Prince noticed the blue streams of light gathering inside the writhing horror. These glowing currents converged along the charred blood vessels, nerves, and muscle clusters, forming glowing orbs at the focal points of the creature’s biological cannons.

Not only was it alive—it was preparing to strike back.

But Jinna also saw that the writhing disaster was clearly on its last legs. Its colossal body had been torn into more than a dozen pieces by the supercritical accelerator bombardments. Now, vast sections of flesh were barely held together by limited “granulation tissue.” Many of its organs were exposed, showing signs of further decay with every pulse. Energy drawn from the deep blue conduits flowed through its nerves and muscles, leaving trails of blue smoke in its wake. Black scorch marks of decay spread along these energy paths, now covering nearly two-thirds of the creature’s body.

It was obvious that dozens of accelerator strikes had inflicted fatal damage. Drawing energy directly from the planet to power its attacks was no trivial matter. In a reckless bid to counter the threat of the Dawn of Dust, the writhing disaster had devoured power not its own—power that pierced the Dawn’s shields but was simultaneously burning the monster from within.

“It’s almost dead…” Jinna Prince gritted her teeth. “Maybe just one more round, and it’ll be finished! We still need—”

“Commander, the Dawn of Dust’s shields will not withstand another attack,” the mainframe’s emotionless voice echoed through the hall, coldly stating the facts. “The supercritical accelerator requires cooling and reloading. The writhing disaster’s next strike will come before then. Our remaining secondary and primary cannons, as well as the inferno incendiary bombs, cannot inflict effective damage on the target. The ship recommends immediate evacuation of all humans within the fortress.”

“…Immediate evacuation of all humans?” Jinna looked toward the mainframe. “What do you mean?”

“…At its inception, Creator Princess Rebecca programmed me with autonomous combat capabilities,” the mainframe replied calmly. “Though efficiency will decline somewhat, this is an acceptable contingency. I will do my utmost to survive until the next attack and to launch all remaining accelerator rounds. With synchronized strikes from the other Gorgon sister ships, this should be sufficient to eliminate the target.”

Jinna took a slow breath. Just as she was about to respond, a voice from an officer nearby interrupted: “Commander! Look over there!”

Jinna turned in surprise toward the largest holographic projection in the hall.

Above the living mountain of flesh, bright streaks of fire suddenly appeared—trails of thunder, lightning, and flame cutting through the sky. Behind the clouds, massive forms emerged: the shadows of dragons ruling the heavens.

Hundreds, even thousands, of dragons burst forth from the clouds, swirling like a furious storm above the writhing disaster, diving down toward the corrupted, undulating mass of flesh below.

(End of chapter)