Chapter 628: After the Burning

Years later, every survivor who had faced the forces of Cecil would never forget the nightmare words that haunted their memories—

“The bombs are falling.”

But at this very moment, Heaton had no idea.

He didn’t know what those things falling from the sky were. They looked different from the “Heavenfire” the Cecilians unleashed—no pale cyan glow enveloped them; they plummeted like stones. Nor did he understand the sudden voice booming from above, uttering a strange word that seemed made up: “Express delivery.”

Yet instinctively, he sensed the danger.

The Archpriest of the Cult of All Things’ End raised his hands high. Dark lightning crackled and coalesced in the air, countless black serpentine bolts weaving into a massive storm. With the force of thunder, the tempest swept across the sky, aiming to obliterate the falling objects.

It was a reflex, but the moment the storm struck, Heaton realized his grave mistake—

The falling objects contained power far greater than the Heavenfire, and the lightning storm’s sweep triggered a chain reaction, detonating every single one!

A blinding flash seared his vision, then rapidly expanded to fill his entire field of sight. A terrifying chain explosion erupted—hundreds of the falling objects detonated densely above Red Maple City, unleashing chaotic, raw energy in a violent surge—

From afar, observers saw a brilliant new starburst form above Red Maple City, a dazzling nova of arcane light and shockwaves. The hundreds of simultaneous arcane detonations fused into an egg-shaped energy cloud. Though seemingly slow, the massive cloud rapidly approached the city’s protective shield. A feeble black arc of electricity flickered weakly in an attempt to repel it, but was instantly swallowed and extinguished by the overwhelming energy surge. Within seconds, the destructive “egg” touched the dome node of Red Maple’s shield.

Inside the shield, the corrupted priests witnessed an even more horrifying sight.

A boiling cloud of fire slowly pressed down from the sky. It first struck the shield, which had already dimmed from continuous bombardment by the Cecilians. The shield instantly overloaded and shattered. The fire cloud then began licking at the dissipating magical residue and the city’s towering buildings. Illusory, scorching flames rained down, melting sturdy towers and fortresses like wax…

“The shield’s broken!!”

A shout finally broke the stunned silence, but it was cut short as a bright flash streaked nearby—without the shield’s protection, the Cecilian artillery began striking Red Maple’s walls directly. The war machines had closed in to precise firing range. Where the flash passed, only shattered bricks and scattered crystal fragments remained.

Heaton was dazed. Everything had happened too fast. The city’s fall was sudden, as if in an instant, the great army of divine abominations he had painstakingly assembled was doomed. He looked out over the plains beyond the city and saw the cold, merciless steel machines still loyally carrying out their operators’ will: advance, fire, advance, fire…

No, it shouldn’t be like this!

Suddenly, rage exploded from Heaton. A guttural roar, not quite human, tore from his throat. His black robes were shredded by countless crystals and twisted, swollen limbs bursting forth!

To achieve perfect evolution, to reach his ultimate form, he had been deliberately restraining the growth of his divine abominations. But now, he abandoned all control.

The path of great evolution must be fulfilled—his lifelong ideal, his painstaking schemes, the new world he had pursued—how could it be crushed by soulless steel machines?!

The ragged crystal giant leapt from the city wall like a furious demon god, charging at the war machines still executing their close-range bombardment. The soldiers controlling the tanks spotted the reckless intruder immediately. Several war machines slowed, turned, and their turrets creaked as they aimed at the towering target. Then, with a flash of accelerated rail light, crystalline shells thundered forth.

Boom! Boom!

Two shells struck the giant. Heaton smashed one away with a massive fist, but the other exploded against his shoulder. The blast staggered him, and his entire arm disintegrated in a flash of light. Yet, after two steps forward, he regained balance. A new arm writhed rapidly, regenerating from the shattered flesh.

The giant raised his arm and pointed at the nearest war machine. Thick vines erupted from the ground, entangling the tank’s treads and turret. The steel beast roared as it tore the vines apart one by one, but a black lightning bolt suddenly struck from above, piercing the tank’s shield, steel armor, and engine core, finally halting the relentless machine.

These machines were formidable, but not invincible.

A surge of grim satisfaction rose in Heaton’s chest—until a relentless barrage of explosions engulfed him from all sides.

One war machine destroyed, but behind it came ten, behind those a hundred, and beyond them artillery battalions, naval gunfire support, loyal arcane infantry, and the White Knight battalion.

Amid the thunderous bombardment, Heaton felt his body rapidly fracturing. His powerful protective shield and regenerative limbs could not withstand the concentrated assault of what was essentially a hundred grand mages firing in unison. As his consciousness began to fade, his mind still clung to those grand plans, to his lofty ambitions.

But war machines cared nothing for noble ideals or passionate dreams—no matter how grand or humble.

The Sixth Company eliminated the minor obstacle on their path and pressed forward.

The war machines operated loyally over the scorched earth.

A massive dragon silhouette swept through the clouds, its crystalline vertical pupil reflecting the city crumbling beneath the artillery fire.

“Using a disaster to fight a disaster, huh…

“Well, ‘express delivery’ is certainly an interesting word.”

…

In the command vehicle behind the lines, a holographic projection flickered above the arcane network terminal, revealing the figure of Solderin. His Iron Cavalry unit had brought the first intelligence from beyond the battlefield: “Observing widespread loss of control among the crystal clusters—command nodes in the Red Maple region have vanished!”

Gawain nodded. Amber’s figure materialized beside him, the half-elf sighing, “Looks like that guy who suddenly jumped off the wall to take on tanks alone was the enemy’s supreme commander—reckless to the extreme.”

“Perhaps the crystal transformation always affects one’s sanity, even the priests of the Cult of All Things’ End aren’t immune.”

Charging a tank column alone—that kind of recklessness made Gawain’s scalp tingle. Even Gawain Cecil himself and the original hot-headed veterans might not have dared such a stunt… The only explanation was the crystal mutation’s damage to the brain’s neural pathways.

“Order the assault troops to establish a position immediately after securing Red Maple’s gates, sealing the entrance. Other units switch to defense. Preheat the flamethrowers. Next, we deal with those out-of-control crystal-infected,” Gawain commanded, turning. “Pay special attention to the east side. The crystal giants reinforcing from Giantstone City are the region’s elite force. Even weakened and uncontrolled, they could still pose a threat. Though they haven’t arrived yet, we must not let our guard down.”

Despite the orders, Gawain was troubled. According to his original plan, the greatest challenge would come later, when the elite enemy force besieging Giantstone City entered the battlefield to strike the flank. That crystal army was said to be the strongest, led by a commander suspected to be a transformed kingdom or eastern officer, far more skilled than the dark priests who knew nothing of warfare. Once they arrived, the Cecilian legion would have to divert significant forces to meet the flank threat.

Yet, for some reason, even as Red Maple fell and other crystal giants lost control, that elite force never appeared. The Iron Cavalry squad stationed at the eastern pass hadn’t even glimpsed them.

This spared the Cecilian legion extra losses and pressure, but left Gawain deeply uneasy—

Why hadn’t they shown up? Could it be that this feint… this strategy of drawing the enemy away… had failed?

With this worry in mind, after issuing orders, Gawain activated another arcane terminal. The hologram above it showed the tall, muscular figure of Light.

“The White Knight Battalion is assembled and ready,” the high priest who insisted on leading from the front said gravely. “Ready to deploy at any moment.”

“Proceed immediately to Giantstone City for reconnaissance,” Gawain ordered. “I’ll go with you.”

The assault on Red Maple was over. Next came a rescue mission toward Giantstone City.

Rescue missions were best left to the healers—but given the unknown conditions and potential difficulty, the strongest priests should be sent.

As a grassroots leader who valued leading by example, Light insisted on going to the front lines himself. So Gawain included him in today’s operation. Considering the possibility of unexpected complications at Giantstone City, Gawain decided to accompany him personally.

Ten minutes later, three armored trucks bearing the Cecil insignia and holy light runes, etched with prayers and sacred symbols, and equipped with holy light turrets, departed the frontline base. Escorting them were twenty-two “Warhammer-I” tanks outfitted with extra flamethrowers, six “Iron Ambassadors,” and a fully staffed infantry battalion.

Inside one armored truck, Light, clad in heavy White Knight armor, meticulously inspected his Warhammer and the holy light hand cannon mounted on his arm. Emily’s small figure floated in the radiant glow behind him, greeting Gawain, who sat nearby.

The scene made Gawain feel as if Light were some kind of emissary…

He had to say something to dispel his baseless thoughts.

“Light, what do you think of this war?”

“I don’t have much to say about the war—I’m just a priest,” the High Patriarch shook his head, answering with his usual straightforwardness and simplicity. “If I had to comment, all I feel is regret… This has been a senseless disaster. Too many innocents have died, and one of the kingdom’s most fertile regions lies wasted.”

“The land always sprouts new shoots after a fire,” Amber interrupted before Gawain could speak, glancing at him as she said it. “Isn’t that what you’d say?”

“Yeah, the land will grow back after the burn…” Gawain exhaled softly, but his gaze drifted beyond the crystal panes embedded in the truck’s side, out toward the desolate wilderness.

Even on this tainted soil, patches of green still spread and thrived. The divine corruption only targeted humans; the plants remained untouched. Along the roadside, he saw vast fields flourishing—once the estates of local noble lords. After harvest, the scattered stalks and leftover grains belonged to the commoners. But now, the nobles were gone, the peasants too. The corrupted humans no longer needed the food that had been so painstakingly cultivated. The precious farmland lay fallow, weeds pushing out the seedlings, growing even more vigorously than the crops ever did.

This land hadn’t been burned, but to Gawain, it had suffered a different kind of fire.

The royal family and the power of the Eastern Territories had been consumed in the flames of this war.

Will Ansu sprout new shoots?

(End of chapter)