Chapter 616: The Blizzard of Giantstone Keep

The terrifying pursuit seemed poised to swallow the small convoy whole. Whether it was the knights from the royal capital, the conscripted soldiers, or the lives salvaged from the walls of Giantstone Keep, after a brief reprieve, death was steadily closing in. Michel peered through the observation port at the rear of the carriage, watching the distant scene unfold: hundreds upon hundreds of crystal cluster giants drawing ever closer. These towering humanoid creatures, standing nearly three meters tall, charged with a ferocity that even surpassed the royal knights. Their frequent arcs of arcane lightning crackled across the battlefield, striking the war chariot’s shields again and again.

Farther off, vast clouds of dust billowed upward—each plume signaling a fresh wave of pursuers rapidly closing in.

Then, a strange flash of light descended from the sky.

It was some kind of high-speed flying object, moving so fast that even those with supernatural sight could barely trace its path. Wrapped in a faint green glow, it came from the direction of the Gorgon River, skimming over hills and plains before plunging into the distant dust clouds.

The next moment, a horrific explosion of blinding light and thunderous roar nearly shattered Michel and the soldiers’ eardrums.

Countless shattered limbs and shards of crystal were hurled skyward in the blast. The terrifying shockwave flattened every raised surface within nearly a hundred meters, shaking the earth violently. Even from such a distance, Michel could clearly see subtle ripples forming on the war chariot’s shield.

More flashes soon appeared on the horizon, accompanied by sharp, piercing sounds, falling relentlessly into the distance.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

One earth-shattering explosion after another echoed across the battlefield. Each flash and blast struck like a meteor spell falling among the crystal cluster army. Countless monsters were reduced to dust under this devastating assault. Michel could be certain of only one thing—the pursuit by the crystal cluster legion was breaking apart.

The soldiers operating the vehicle and its weapons, led by Cecil, clearly anticipated this incredible “heavenly fire.” They showed no panic. As the first massive explosion detonated, they smoothly transitioned into the next phase of their escape. They began sweeping the pursuing crystal giants with the war chariot’s mounted weapons, tossing out large numbers of magical devices called crystallized grenades behind them, while steadily moving toward the Gorgon River.

Throughout it all, Michel’s greatest fear was that one of those skyborne attacks might strike their own heads. The power behind those blasts was so immense that even a single hit near the convoy would scatter his body across a hundred-meter radius. Yet, his fears proved unfounded—the attacks deliberately maintained a safe distance, the closest falling hundreds of meters away.

It was as if this had been rehearsed countless times.

Even the crystal cluster giants—fearless and devoid of human emotion—retreated under such relentless assault. The chase and breakout battle finally ended with a beam of energy sweeping in from the Gorgon River. That terrifying ray cut across the battlefield, humming as it seared the earth, leaving behind a scorched trench dozens of meters wide, nearly molten. The heat-fearing giants scattered in all directions.

After that, the journey was uneventful.

…

On the 35th day of the Month of Awakening, the inland warship Pioneer, which had advanced northward ahead of the fleet, successfully linked up with the Steel Rangers vanguard. With the support of its powerful naval artillery, Sir Byron’s knights annihilated a group of crystal cluster giants moving south from the Greatwood Pass. The fleet then anchored along the riverbank in the fertile woodlands north of Pompeii. After clearing a safe landing zone with anti-aircraft guns, the landing forces and the Steel Rangers vanguard established a base in the Lemberg region on the western edge of the fertile forest.

Meanwhile, Gawain and Philip led ground troops advancing overland into the fertile woodlands. After assisting the vanguard in clearing remaining crystal cluster forces, the land route from the southern territories to the war zone was finally opened. From the Rockhold Fortress to Lemberg, river and roadways were now fully accessible, and supply lines officially established.

A temporary perimeter wall, anchored by the “Iron Ambassador” outpost and connected by prefabricated concrete barriers and steel barricades, snaked along the riverbank. Fully armed soldiers manned the watchtowers, eyes fixed to the north. Rows of reinforced tents and modular buildings were neatly arranged within the base. Vehicles transporting supplies and personnel moved ceaselessly in and out, delivering weapons, equipment, and provisions from the southern territories, while ferrying contaminated samples and rescued refugees to temporary labs and camps in the rear. The entire scene was a hive of activity.

Gawain and Amber’s magitek vehicle rolled smoothly into the base. Through the side window, they spotted a half-ruined castle still smoldering nearby. Part of its shattered walls connected to the base’s perimeter. On the remaining intact structures, a towering crystal relay tower had been erected. Its signal amplifier slowly rotated under mechanical drive, sweeping across the gray, hazy sky.

That half-collapsed fortress was Lemberg—formally Lember-Krieburg—the royal family’s direct fiefdom on the Holy Spirit Plains. The castle and the surrounding fertile woodlands had once been a major economic asset of the Morn family. Though its status diminished after the “Mistmoon Rebellion,” it remained the wealthiest land in the southeastern Holy Spirit Plains.

But that was in the past.

By the time the troops arrived, crystal cluster contamination had already spread into the fertile woodlands. The local lord had most likely perished on the northern battlefields. The knights and soldiers left to defend the castle had offered only token resistance for a few hours before scattering. Some civilians were infected by the crystal clusters; others fled into the nearby wastelands. During the landing zone’s establishment, the Pioneer’s bombardment destroyed the lost castle and burned the contaminated forest. This once-prosperous region had become a symbol of the disaster, its crumbling walls and lingering scent of smoke a grim reminder of war’s arrival.

As their vehicle passed the quarantine zone on the base’s eastern edge, a dozen ragged civilians stared wide-eyed at the passing “iron beast.” They clung to the barbed wire fence, disheveled and shaken. Not far behind them, more civilians lined up under soldiers’ supervision to receive food and medicine—an order maintained on a fragile foundation of numbness.

Amber’s gaze swept over the waiting civilians, sympathy softening her expression. “I’m afraid these people still don’t understand what’s happened…”

“The knights fled without a word, abandoning everyone in the region,” Gawain said. “Philip has already sent teams to search for survivors and establish quarantine zones, but social order here is severely broken. It’ll be years before it recovers.”

Amber pressed her lips together but knew that compared to the worse situation up north, this was relatively fortunate. The crystal cluster infections entering Lemberg were scattered stragglers, causing damage insufficient to utterly destroy the region. The fall of towns and the flood of refugees were mainly due to the knights’ premature flight, allowing monsters to march in unopposed. Yet many civilians escaped, and towns in eastern Lemberg remained largely intact.

As long as the clusters were eradicated and refugees gathered, there was hope for rebuilding.

After a moment, Amber said, “Blood and divine magic tests have identified nearly a hundred infected carriers. They still retain human form but carry the energy signature of the divine blight. Per your orders, they’ve been sent to quarantine camps in Pompeii.”

“Keep the commanders there on high alert,” Gawain instructed seriously. “As long as the infection doesn’t spread, care for them as best as possible. If they haven’t mutated into monsters yet, we can’t give up on treatment.”

Amber glanced at Gawain. “Honestly, I was worried you might order all infected killed…”

Gawain shot her a sideways look. “Do I seem like the kind of man to give that order?”

“Not really. But you’ve said before that maximizing value is key—from a cost and safety perspective, killing all infected would be the most ‘efficient’ choice…”

“That would be a calculation too complex to manage,” Gawain shook his head. “Even ignoring lives and morale, those infected who carry the divine blight but haven’t mutated are precious samples. They can help our technicians understand the methods of the End of All Things. Our hope to comprehend and end this disaster lies with them. Pittman and Kamiel have already arrived in Pompeii; it won’t be long before they uncover the secrets of the End of All Things from these carriers.”

Amber raised an eyebrow. “You really are better at scheming than I am.”

Gawain smiled but said no more.

Faced with such a catastrophe, he had to calculate carefully—but he couldn’t reduce lives to mere numbers. He had to consider postwar development, social order, public morale, the chroniclers’ records, and how to find ways to fight the disaster through the infected. Above all, how to save as many people as possible. A ruthless commander might count heads coldly, but a ruler’s calculations went far beyond that.

He lifted his gaze, looking north through the crystal glass inset in the vehicle door.

…

The crystal cluster giant Korod withdrew his gaze from the south.

The forces entering Lemberg—though hastily assembled ragtag troops—had been wiped out in such a short time.

Due to distance, he couldn’t clearly “see” what those southern expansion teams had encountered. But from limited signals, he sensed a sudden burst of intense heat across hundreds of giants, accompanied by thunderous, illusory roars. It was likely some extremely powerful spell attack, probably involving multiple legendary-level mages on the battlefield.

Whatever the cause, it warranted heightened vigilance.

Recalling that another squad sent to eliminate invaders had recently suffered heavy, inexplicable losses, Korod concluded that the wandering Cecilians from the southern territories were not to be underestimated. They were likely well prepared for this war.

Though the legion was mighty, it had to beware enemies lurking behind.

Once this operation concluded, it would be necessary to return to Red Maple City and warn the archdeacon from the church’s core.

For now, however, all focus must remain on the battlefield before him.

Korod lifted his head, and within his crystallized eyes, the ruined city of Giantstone was reflected—almost completely devastated by the legion, over eighty percent of its area reduced to rubble. Yet an unyielding blizzard still cloaked the last fortress district, its countless razor-sharp ice shards and deadly chill making every step agonizing for the crystal giants.

High Priest Heaton had ordered the legion to capture the fortress district within three days.

Korod felt a trace of disdain toward this command. Though he respected the High Priest’s absolute authority, he knew the man lacked any real military insight. He was a powerful dark druid, no doubt, with formidable magic, but utterly inexperienced in warfare. Korod himself had once been one of the Eastern Legion’s finest noble officers.

Of course, those days were long gone, but the experience he’d gained still held value.

As someone intimately familiar with the battlefield, Korod understood that taking this fortress wouldn’t be as simple as rallying troops and morale. The last mountain battalion, along with the formidable “Northern Queen,” held the terrain advantage and controlled the fortress’s magical network. A legendary-level mage like her was adept at managing her energy; with a stable casting environment and a steady external mana supply, she could use auxiliary artifacts to sustain the blizzard around the fortress for an entire month. The supplies stored inside were enough to outlast even that.

But that was fine—Korod had his own plan.

A digging team had already set out, tunneling through a blind spot on the fortress’s west side. Leading that team was none other than the original lord of Giantstone.

Of course, that lord had since embraced evolution and become one of the new era’s kind.

Under the former lord’s guidance, the digging team would launch an underground assault on the fortress shielded by the blizzard.

They wouldn’t be able to storm the inner courtyard or kill Victoria Wilde, nor could they eliminate the powerful mountain battalion inside. In fact, they couldn’t even get close to the fortress’s inner walls—a legendary mage would never fail to set protective wards around her casting area. The moment the tunnel neared Victoria’s position, the digging team would be instantly exposed.

Their true mission was to sabotage the magical network nodes beneath the fortress’s outer district, to fracture the network’s integrity and sever the Northern Queen’s mana supply.

Only the lord of Giantstone himself knew the exact locations of every magical node, for he had set them up. Victoria Wilde, though a regent duchess, likely had no knowledge of the intricate details hidden within the lord’s estate.

Korod gazed at the seemingly endless blizzard shrouding the fortress, a faint smile slowly curling on his lips.

Through his faint spiritual senses, he could feel the digging team still alive and steadily pushing deeper underground.

The former Earl of the Eastern Lands, now a giant commander, turned and casually instructed his subordinate, “Attack as soon as the blizzard stops.”

(End of chapter)