Chapter 632: Rapid Deterioration

The crystal cluster giants underwent a sudden, collective transformation.

At Hill 3 in the northern part of the Red Maple region, the sky hung heavy and gray, fierce winds howling as artillery thundered relentlessly.

A massive horde of crystal cluster giants, wandering in from the eastern territories, stampeded wildly across the plains. These grotesquely swollen, deformed monstrosities moved in a frenzied chaos—charging over the flatlands, surging up hills. Some fled toward the distant horizon, others crashed against the legion’s defensive lines. Blinding arcs of arcane electricity tore through the air, briefly illuminating the tainted plains beneath the dim sky. Meanwhile, atop the crucial Hill 3, the artillery fire never ceased.

Heavy magi-tech cannons, finely adjusted by mechanical apparatuses, shifted their firing angles with precision. Rune-etched rails glowed as shells wrapped in pale cyan energy streaked into the distance. Warhammers I tanks hidden behind bunkers fired in rapid succession, saturating the eastern plains with a dense barrage, weaving an impenetrable web of fire.

Captain Cecil, clad in white armor trimmed with blue, stood behind cover, peering through tactical goggles to survey the battlefield.

Explosions and shockwaves rippled across the frenzied crystal horde, sending countless twisted limbs and shattered crystals soaring skyward every second. Yet, against the gloomy backdrop, an endless tide of monsters surged forward, heedless of the death line before them.

Cecil lowered his goggles and stepped away from the bunker.

Nearby, a commander’s voice rang out, amplified by magical power: “Battery Two cooling down, switch to accelerated rails—Battery Three, commence firing!” “Burners preheated!” “Shells delivered!” “The Pioneer has reached position!”

The captain hurried through the bustling artillery zone and supply tunnels, the cacophony of gunfire and commands ringing in his ears. Passing a sentry post, he approached a tall officer wearing a knight’s insignia and a short black cloak emblazoned with white heraldry.

Three sharp thuds sounded nearby as bright signal flares shot into the sky, their dazzling light bathing the camp and reflecting off the knight’s silver armor.

“Sir! The enemy’s assault has been contained—they’re pinned outside the defensive line,” Cecil saluted briskly, speaking rapidly. “But the creatures show no sign of retreat or discipline. They’re utterly frenzied.”

The commander nodded. “Reinforce the eastern defenses. No matter how many come, they must be annihilated at the frontline—we have ample supplies and personnel.”

“Yes, sir.”

Cecil acknowledged the order and left, while the commander glanced once more at the battlefield before heading toward the command barracks.

A low, ominous hum rose from the direction of the Gorgon River. As the signal flares faded, two terrifying beams of energy, like rivers of light, suddenly ignited, piercing the dim sky from west to east and sweeping across the battlefield. Wherever the beams passed, giants and rocks alike vaporized, leaving only scorched earth behind.

Inside the command barracks, the arcane network terminal hummed steadily. A holographic projection of General Philip, commander of the ground forces, appeared.

The officer stood at attention before the terminal, voice firm: “General, Hill 3’s defenses are stable. The calibrated beams have cleared the eastern and northern sectors. We’re ready to establish the next stronghold.”

“Maintain fire suppression. The next advancing unit will enter from the southwest in thirty minutes,” Philip replied calmly. “What’s the status of the crystal giants over there?”

“Out of control. Frenzied. Almost no rationality, yet no sign of weakening.”

“No sign of any commanding crystal cluster maintaining order?”

“None detected.”

“…Understood. Continue the mission, Commander.”

“Received.”

At the main legion command post, Philip approached Gawain, who was reviewing intelligence reports copied from the rear. Before Philip could speak, Gawain looked up.

“The crystal legion appears completely unhinged,” he said.

Without waiting for Philip’s questions, Gawain waved the papers in his hand. “Kamail sent word from the Pompeii Laboratory. All the commander-level crystal giants held in isolated cells there went mad simultaneously—they can’t all be subordinate units of the Red Maple node.”

“Pompeii Laboratory?!” Philip was startled. “Is everything alright there?”

“A fully armed force and a legendary ancient mage are stationed there. No incidents reported. All uncontrolled creatures have been destroyed, and infected carriers under quarantine have been safely relocated. No cause for concern on that front. Fortunately, those merely infected but not transformed remain unaffected.”

“This situation is strange…” Philip frowned. “The behavior differs from the usual loss of control caused by upper node collapse…”

“Exactly. When an upper node collapses, the crystal giants lose their minds but also rapidly weaken, becoming little more than beasts within an hour. But these frenzied giants show no decline in strength,” Gawain slammed the documents on the table, voice grave. “They’re not ‘out of control’—a new, utterly insane consciousness has become their highest node.”

A chill ran down Philip’s spine. Gawain continued, “The only good news is that these frenzied giants haven’t evolved in power. We can still hold the line and push north. But without any organization, they’re far harder to contain…”

Before he could finish, the air nearby warped, and Amber materialized. The half-elf handed Gawain a freshly copied report. “Urgent message from Mariland.”

Gawain scanned it quickly, then looked at Philip. “Just as I suspected—the Iron Throne Zero is engaged at the East Border entrance with the suddenly frenzied crystal giants. The entire legion is truly out of control.”

The urgent report detailed the battle at the eastern border checkpoint: countless frenzied crystal giants and low-level infected were blindly spreading, many charging the Iron Throne’s blockade. Mariland’s knights had established defenses using armored trains, armed railways, temporary walls, bunkers, and mountain shelters. They were holding the infected at the gateway and steadily reinforcing their lines.

Thanks to the Iron Throne’s forces and White Sand Mining’s armed security reinforcements, Mariland’s knights should be able to stabilize the situation and even push the front westward. Engineers were laying tracks under artillery cover to expand the Iron Throne’s operational range into the Holy Spirit Plains. Mariland’s goal was to “defensively advance” the Iron Throne into Solinfort, using its strong fortifications to build a new line with depth, securing the uncontaminated eastern regions as much as possible.

Gawain’s initial assessment of Mariland had proven correct—a capable man. Though born into Ansu’s traditional nobility, he was adaptable. Exposure to advanced knowledge and firsthand experience with the Cecil Legion’s operations had sharpened his military skills. He excelled at trading defense for offense—a tactic that, combined with armored trains, would be invaluable.

“Where is Sonia?” Gawain asked Amber. “She should be back soon.”

“Twenty minutes ago, she was returning from Tulipfort. She should be arriving about now…”

“I’m back,” Sonia’s clear voice came from the doorway before Amber could answer. Gawain turned to see the high-ranking messenger clad in light leather armor.

“The north is swarming with mad monsters, and the east is no better. Worse still, west of the Gorgon River beyond Tulipfort, there are reports of wandering crystal-infected.”

“So the contamination has crossed the river…” Gawain clenched his fist. “How many?”

“Hard to say. I didn’t dare fly too far, but I saw local noble militias fighting small groups of crystal monsters. The number crossing the Gorgon should be limited—our fleet still blocks the river, and most attempts are stopped by riverside defenses. Only the north… the legion’s frontline hasn’t reached there yet, so there’s a gap.”

Gawain frowned but accepted the reality.

Originally, his plan was to seal off the Gorgon River completely and close the eastern border entrance. Along with armored barriers to the south and the Saint Suniel–Northern Mountains line, this would trap the crystal infection in the eastern Holy Spirit Plains, making it manageable. But no plan is perfect. From the start, he had prepared for the worst: the legion’s northward advance might not outpace the crystal spread, and contamination could cross the Gorgon into the western plains.

Now, events were unfolding exactly as he feared.

But this didn’t mean total collapse. Though terrifying, large-scale crystal outbreaks required strict conditions. Evidence showed that the initial “End of All Things” event’s rapid contamination of the Greatwood Gate relied on long-term preparation and a massive sacrificial ritual. Without such, the infection spread no faster than typical diseases.

As long as the contamination in the western plains stayed below a critical threshold, and local nobles didn’t abandon resistance, the situation could still be contained.

“Send orders to Byron to accelerate sealing the northern river route. Also, notify Sir Walde to dispatch five thousand troops from the Second Corps north along the river to assist in sealing and clearing the western bank,” Gawain instructed Amber swiftly. “And have we made contact with the intelligence agents inside Saint Suniel?”

Amber shook her head. “No contact. The secret relay stations extending from Saint Suniel may have been destroyed. Other communication points and informants, including those in the west, are all missing.”

“Maybe… I should try flying directly to Saint Suniel,” Sonia suddenly said. “I can deliver the reinforcements’ intelligence to Silverfort…”

“You’d have to fly straight over the contaminated zone without stopping? Or detour through the safe western plains?” Gawain eyed Sonia. “If you fly straight, you’ll have to maintain maximum altitude the entire way—neither you nor your giant eagle can endure that long without rest. If you detour, the journey will be two to three times longer, plus eagle rest stops. By the time you reach Saint Suniel, the nobles there might have already abandoned the city.”

It was essential that the capital’s garrison knew reinforcements were on their way—this had been the agreement between Gawain and Victoria. A hopeless army could never hold the city, even with Ansu’s most advanced defenses. But the clear knowledge of incoming aid could greatly bolster the defenders’ morale, especially in a kingdom army that relied heavily on knights’ leadership and sheer manpower.

Yet the sudden upheaval threw Gawain’s plans into chaos. The frenzied crystal host began roaming unpredictably across the plains, instantly rendering all previously scouted enemy positions and safe routes useless. Messengers sent to Saint Suniel now faced far greater dangers. Meanwhile, the pressure from the maddened crystal forces on Saint Suniel could spike at any moment, increasing the likelihood that the capital’s defenders might abandon the city altogether. Time for the messengers was growing even shorter.

But Saint Suniel could not fall.

At that moment, a clear yet slightly distant voice cut through the tension: “Lady Sonia, is the mage tower at Tulip Keep still standing?”

Gawain looked up to see the Northern Duchess—Victoria Wilde—standing in the doorway.

After a brief pause, Sonia nodded. “The castle is half-ruined, but the mage tower remains.”

“That tower houses a high-powered communication beacon,” Victoria said. “Take me there. With its amplification, I can reach Silverhold.”

(End of chapter)