Chapter 1403: The Dark Clouds Disperse
It was a scene both spectacular and terrifying—so shocking that any mythic epic or disaster tale would ban it as forbidden lore. It unfolded above the Talash Plain, witnessed by hundreds of thousands who felt their souls tremble at the sight: a deranged, malformed god, a monstrous being pieced together from countless shapeless flesh masses and twisted limbs, bursting forth from a profane, eldritch rift into the mortal world. Yet only half of its body emerged.
That half-god’s torso seemed severed by some dreadful force, as if the entity blocking it from behind had struck a fatal blow while it struggled with all its might. The severed half flew out of the rift like a falling meteor, hurtling southeast toward the Deep Blue Well. Along its path, it scattered tons of corrupted flesh and countless unidentifiable fragments. With a ground-shaking impact, it finally crashed onto a barren plain north of the Typhon frontline base, tumbling across the uneven earth and gouging a terrifying trench several kilometers long.
From the moment the ancient abomination burst forth to its final crash, the debris it scattered left a bloodstain stretching dozens of kilometers across the northern Talash Plain. This gruesome trail extended from the edge of the Crawling Plague’s corpse like a festering wound erupting with rot.
Several massive figures swept beneath the cloud base. Coretta, daringly lowering her altitude, let the scene below flood into her dark-golden eyes. She saw a landscape carved by ravines, where fragments from the “Reverse Tide” spilled like molten sulfur, hissing and smoking in the gullies. Rocks and soil, soaked in the god’s blood, steamed as if corroded by acid. The flowing gore had reshaped the terrain for tens of kilometers, connecting with the trench gouged by the god’s fall to form a deepening canyon.
But the horrific destruction had run its course. By the time the dragon squadron approached for reconnaissance, the blood and debris had cooled, and the corrosive, assimilative process halted abruptly. It seemed this brief, violent devastation was the last echo left by the Reverse Tide’s fall. At the canyon’s end, Coretta spotted the “god’s corpse,” buried a third under a mountain of earth and stone.
Motionless, it had clearly lost all vitality. A spreading pool of its rapidly weakening, once-special “blood” surrounded it, with twisted limbs soaking in their own gore. On the corpse’s gruesome severed edge, faint flashes of grayish light flickered and vanished.
“This is the Talrond Expeditionary Force. We have reached the crash site of the ‘Reverse Tide,’” Coretta opened a comm channel, her voice grave. “Target is inactive. Energy readings from the remains are rapidly fading. No divine contamination detected. Confirmed dead—at least, this half that entered the material world is dead.”
“This is Alliance Command. Thank you for your efforts,” came Gawain’s voice through the comm. “Maintain vigilance. Do not approach the target recklessly. Establish a perimeter at the crash site and await intervention from the Theocratic Council’s experts.”
…
After the comm ended, Gawain’s gaze lingered on the direction where the Reverse Tide had fallen. Though he had witnessed everything firsthand, a strong sense of unreality clung to him. The situation had unfolded far beyond any of his contingency plans, leaving the ever-prepared commander unsettled. But one fact was now undeniable—the terrifying crisis engineered by the Sentinels had been extinguished.
As for who delivered the fatal blow to the Reverse Tide at the last moment, Gawain had his suspicions.
He exhaled softly and turned to Amber. “Looks like Lady Night—”
His words cut off abruptly. The space beside him was empty. Amber was nowhere to be seen.
Yet Gawain was absolutely certain she had been standing right there, shoulder to shoulder with him! Even with her extraordinary shadow talents, she had never vanished so completely from his perception before. When had she left?
A chill of unease crept over him. Just as he was about to call out, Amber’s presence suddenly reappeared, her voice coming from the other side, lively as ever: “Whoa… what was that just now? Did the Reverse Tide pull so hard trying to get out that it literally tore itself in half? Can you even do that?”
Gawain whipped his head around to see Amber standing there, eyes wide as she stared out the window, chattering away as if she’d never left.
“Huh? Why are you looking at me like that?” Amber noticed his gaze immediately and took a half-step back. “I didn’t mess up or anything. I was just amazed—wouldn’t you be surprised to see an ancient god die so spectacularly?”
“That’s not the point,” Gawain frowned. He was sure Amber’s presence had vanished for a moment, yet now she stood before him normally, with no sign of anything unusual. This only deepened his suspicion. “You were standing here the whole time? Didn’t step away for a moment?”
“Me? Step away? Are you losing it from stress?” Amber rolled her eyes. “I was right here the whole time. I even heard you and the others talking about how to fight the Reverse Tide before it came bursting out of the rift, dying all the way. I stood with you by the window watching it happen… Don’t scare me like that—I’m easily freaked out, you know.”
Hearing this, even Gawain began to doubt his own senses. Amber’s account matched perfectly, and her expression showed no sign of deceit. Yet the brief oddity still gnawed at him. Before he could investigate further, a voice interrupted from the comm: “This is the Tower. Barrier wall synchronization complete.”
…
The howls of the chaotic monstrosity echoed like an endless nightmare. The ambient magical backlash scorched the mages’ nerves and minds. Rune nodes controlled by the warriors overheated across a wide area. Marianne gripped her officer’s longsword tightly—a weapon usually more ornamental than practical, now stained with corrupted blood. To hold this fortress, she and her soldiers had fought six brutal hand-to-hand battles against the aberrations breaking through the blockade.
The young female knight leaned on her sword behind the watchtower’s parapet, scanning the front lines. Waves of pain from wounds and exhaustion battered her resolve, but she focused all her attention on the battlefield, forcing herself not to dwell on matters beyond her control—
The living apocalypse of the Crawling Plague, the mysterious iron warship descending on the field, the nightmare god… These forces far beyond mortal power came and went, while the fate of the entire world seemed balanced on a razor’s edge, struggling to hold amid cataclysmic clashes.
And she—a minor noble from Typhon, a fresh junior officer, a mere knight—was but a tiny ripple in this storm.
Millions of mortal soldiers were just like her—small ripples. The cataclysmic forces had equal power to oppose them. Mortals had their own battles to fight. As fire rained between sky and stars, the waves on the earth never ceased. Countless people like Marianne and her soldiers fought, bled, and died on this land.
The empire needed every citizen to fulfill their duty—civilization demanded each individual bear their burden.
A distant rumble rolled in again. Marianne tightened her grip on her sword. She didn’t know if this hastily built fortress could withstand the next onslaught, nor if she’d ever return home to tell Dana and Carly about her experiences. But she knew that if everyone held on until the end, someone would survive to tell the tale.
Then, suddenly, an invisible force swept across the plain, halting Marianne’s movements. Like a gust of wind, it scattered the oppressive weight born of the abnormal magical environment. Instantly, she sensed the chaotic magic around her fall into order. The overwhelming malice and hostility saturating the Talash Plain began to melt away like snow under the sun.
She heard cheers nearby. Looking toward the front lines, she saw soldiers celebrating. Farther out, the scorched, blistering earth was dotted with malformed monsters suddenly billowing smoke—as if the sun’s rays were burning away their souls. These creatures, which had haunted this wasteland for seven centuries, began to vanish into thin air. The ancient force sustaining them was collapsing. The boundary between nightmare and reality was swiftly restoring. Even the synthetic beasts bred by dark priests fell one by one, collapsing where they stood.
Clearly, though not aberrations themselves, these constructs depended heavily on the wasteland’s environment.
Marianne blinked, still trying to grasp what was happening. Then her comm crystal crackled to life with the calm, steady voice of General Andersa Wendell: “Barrier wall sealed. All units maintain alert and hold position. Await further orders.”
The barrier wall had sealed.
Instinctively, Marianne lifted her head—and the next moment, she beheld a sight she would never forget—
Brilliant pillars of light rose one after another from the dark plain, spreading across the dim earth toward the horizon. The beams pierced the clouds, and a vast, overwhelming energy burst like a shockwave above the Deep Blue Well. The power surged rapidly, tearing open a rift in the thick, polluted clouds over the Talash Plain. The rift widened swiftly, until the entire cloud cover was swept away.
The toxic high-energy clouds receded, revealing the clear, bright sky beyond. The great sun was slowly sinking in the west, casting golden rays over the scarred land. Under the sunlight, the last of the mutants vanished like phantoms. The smoke and dust hanging over the earth were tinged with a warm, reddish-gold hue. All the blood, corpses, swords, fortresses, the fortunate and the victorious, and even the ancient Deep Blue Well—each bathed equally in the sunlight.
Marianne seemed entranced. She stared blankly upward, gazing long and hard at the sky she had once thought she’d never see again. Then, something else caught her eye.
A shower of “shooting stars” streaked across the heavens—fiery fragments blazing as they fell from the far reaches of the atmosphere. Countless shards were engulfed in flames and thick smoke, like a rain of fire.
Bathed in the golden-red sunset, this burning rain scattered across the sky. Most fragments seemed to burn away halfway through their descent, but many still fell, glowing and crackling, scattering across the wasteland. As time passed, the number of these fiery fallers grew denser, reaching a peak within minutes.
Across the entire Talash Plain, millions of eyes witnessed this spectacular sight.
In the eastern Talash Plain, Andesha Windell lowered her gaze from the sky and looked at the communication crystal beside her. Hovering above the intricate and costly magical device was a projection of Rosetta Augustus.
From Aldern far away, Rosetta Augustus could see everything happening on this battlefield.
“Have you seen those falling objects?” Andesha asked respectfully. “They… seem to be falling from beyond the atmosphere.”
“Can you determine their general direction and range?”
“They’re coming from all directions, on a massive scale. I’m afraid the entire wasteland is within their coverage.”
“…Any news from our allies?”
“Just now, many dragon riders took to the skies from the Cecil side, chasing those ‘meteors’ northward. The situation near Augure is unclear,” Andesha said with a serious expression. “On the southern front, giant eagle knights and elven ‘skyships’ have also taken flight.”
She paused, then added, “I’ve dispatched some griffon riders and scout mages as well.”
“Good,” Rosetta nodded gently. “Track those ‘meteors’ falling eastward, but don’t engage recklessly once you find the impact sites. Mark and monitor them carefully, and wait for… advice from the Cecil command.”
Andesha bowed her head to acknowledge the order, but couldn’t help asking, “Your Majesty, those ‘meteors’—could they be…?”
“Sentinels,” Rosetta said calmly. “The sentinels destroyed by Gawain Cecil.”
Andesha drew a quiet breath. It was the answer she expected, but it still stirred her deeply.
The communication ended.
A wind carrying the scent of smoke blew in from afar, tinged with the sharp tang of blood.
The young Wolf General lifted his head. The “meteor shower” in the sky was thinning out, and beneath the clear heavens, the Talash Plain was settling into a strange… calm.
There were still many questions to be answered: the fallen sentinel wreckage, the “Reverse Tide” god corpse lying on the ground, a certain hidden deity behind the scenes, the postwar economic recovery and order rebuilding across nations… Just thinking about it made Andesha’s head ache on behalf of all the clever minds who would have to sort it out.
But at least for this moment, the world had survived once more—it was time to breathe.
(End of chapter)