Chapter 975: Non-Targeted Outbreak

The moment Andersa heard the explosive news, all her unease and the vague suspicions that had been creeping up inside her instantly crystallized into a harsh, rust-flavored reality—everything suddenly made sense.

Madness. Everything had gone mad. Centered around the War God’s Church, all the branches connected to it were being tainted by insanity!

“When did the Iron River Knights leave?” she immediately turned to the mage who had come with the report, her voice quick and sharp. “Why wasn’t this discovered immediately?!”

As the highest-ranking commander in the border region, having an imperial knight order suddenly break free and act without authorization right under her nose was unacceptable to Andersa. Even though the Iron River Knights weren’t directly under her command—they answered straight to the royal family as a “special legion”—she was now responsible for the Winterwolf Fortress defense line.

“Not sure. At least an hour ago…” The mage’s face was unusually grim. “Count Mogrock cut off all magical communications around their garrison. Some soldiers near the Iron River Knights’ base were trapped by a pre-prepared magical illusion. If a few seemingly abandoned knights hadn’t managed to run on foot to the nearest outpost to raise the alarm, this news might still be trapped inside…”

“This is a premeditated act of madness…” A chill ran through Andersa’s heart as her mind raced like lightning. Then she suddenly turned to her deputy. “Winterwolf Knights, assemble immediately outside the west gate. Battle griffons and the regiment’s mage units, stand by. Send an urgent message to Aldern: highest alert level. Content: ‘Iron River Knights out of control, have moved to attack the Cecil defense line, high risk of war.’ Winterwolf Fortress, full battle readiness. All units prepare to move. Notify the Winterfort Count—Black Banner Mage Regiment to move to the Winterwolf defense line.”

Her deputy listened carefully, then snapped a sharp military salute and responded loudly, “Yes, General!”

Above the towering magical communication tower of Winterwolf Fortress, a massive floating ring made of crystal and mana-conducting metal began to slowly rotate. Potent magical energy surged above the tower as emergency transmissions were amplified and sent out through the ring’s antenna array. Aldern would soon receive the intelligence of the border upheaval. But before that, the entire northwest imperial defense line would already be on high alert, ready to face… an unexpected war.

On the plains west of Winterwolf Fortress, an elite unit with exceptional mobility and combat power had already assembled.

Clad in armor and gripping her longsword, Andersa glanced back at the fortress’s imposing walls. The stronghold stood silently in the dim pre-dawn light, battered by cold northern winds that beat against its weathered, thick ramparts. Along the walls, numerous soldiers and battle mages busily arranged defenses. Mana crystals glowed with activation, enchanted armor plates and shield amplification arrays flickered faintly in her sight—a clear sign that war was imminent.

Andersa had imagined what Winterwolf Fortress would look like once war broke out, but never had she imagined it would unfold like this.

The sound of wings echoed from above as numerous battle griffons flew in from the south, circling above the knights. On either side, the gates opened, and one by one, black-painted magi-cars rolled out in formation, speeding toward the dark plains ahead.

Inside those magi-cars were battle mages—their powerful offensive magic complemented by the vehicles’ high mobility and strong protection. The magi-cars also housed mana amplification crystals and magical arrays, which were traditionally only usable in fixed fortifications like walls and bunkers. Now, thanks to new technology, these could move with the army, greatly enhancing the combat effectiveness of traditional mage units.

With battle mages gaining speed and protection, the Typhon army had developed new tactics: mechanized mage units would lead rapid reconnaissance and disrupt enemy positions, while the knight regiments, traditionally the vanguard, would follow behind. They would use longer charge times and more stable conditions to unleash devastating “thermal cones”—a bold tactic that defied tradition and common sense but had proven surprisingly effective in multiple simulations.

Andersa shook her head, clearing all distractions from her mind. Then she raised her longsword, pointing forward.

“Advance!”

The cold wind of the winter dawn howled as it swept across the plains. Even as a high-ranking knight unafraid of the chill, Andersa felt the winter’s bite seep slowly into her bones. She reviewed the emergency deployments and contingency plans she had made, searching for any fatal flaws or overlooked details. At the same time, she pondered how much of this situation could still be salvaged.

The Iron River Knights were about to ignite a war—that was an undeniable fact. If that powerful legion succeeded in crossing the line and attacking the Cecil fortress, their objective would be achieved. Andersa knew the strength of the Iron River Knights well. Even if they were isolated deep behind enemy lines, facing Cecil’s magi-cannons and steel walls, Mogrock and his knights could still wreak massive havoc on the defense line. But what then?

The Cecils would quickly respond. No matter how strong the isolated Iron River Knights were, they could never stand against the entire Changfeng defense system. It might only take a single fortress known as the “Iron Throne” to utterly destroy the isolated knights.

Many would die on both sides. The fragile peace between the two empires had lasted too briefly to foster stable “friendly relations.” Hawks on both sides still held significant influence—they would not let this opportunity slip.

Now, the only chance to stop all this was to intercept the out-of-control Iron River Knights. Even if they had crossed the military demarcation line, even if they had reached the foot of the Cecil walls, it didn’t matter. As long as no formal fighting had broken out, the matter was still negotiable. The key was how to stop Count Mogrock and his knights.

Andersa still found it hard to believe that the knight commander who had spoken kindly with her during the day had now fallen into the same uncontrollable madness as the War God’s priests. But at this moment, she had to make a judgment free of personal feelings: if she caught up with the Iron River Knights, stopping them with words would be impossible.

Madmen were the hardest to stop—because they no longer cared about the cost.

So she hadn’t sent a fast messenger squad. She had brought an entire elite knight regiment herself.

Andersa gripped the hilt of her sword tightly. In the biting winter wind, her gaze fixed on the Kamanda crossroads, gradually illuminated by the dawn’s first light.

A faint, bitter smile touched her lips—the last time she had marched in this direction, it was to start a war.

…

Suddenly, a massive surge of magical energy from the eastern plains triggered the border detection system’s alarm. The shrill bells rang out across the 22nd border camp in the early morning, jolting the defensive node between the Paramel Highlands and Changfeng Fortress awake. The camp’s commander and soldiers were still somewhat bewildered by what was about to unfold.

“Detected an enormous magical energy fluctuation!” a soldier monitoring the system shouted, eyes wide as he stared at the data streaming from the mana sensors. “From the southeast… rapidly approaching!”

An observer quickly left the monitoring room and rushed to a high platform near the wall. In the growing dawn light, he activated the lookout’s composite filter and pressed his eyes to the polished crystal lenses.

A twisted, scorching, massive cloud of energy had already formed in the distance, skimming close to the ground as it sped toward the camp. Beneath the energy cloud, a faintly shimmering large shield and the tips of pikes just visible—black banners with red stripes rippling on the horizon like monstrous fish leaping from water.

“Visual confirmation: thermal cone!” the observer shouted. “The cone has formed!”

“Enemy identification: Typhon forces! The Iron River Knights of Typhon!”

The camp commander’s face was stunned.

Typhon? Launching an attack? At this hour?

Had those Typhon madmen lost their minds? Was there even a shred of logic behind this?

A subordinate’s voice rang out nearby: “Sir! Please give orders!”

The commander glanced toward the distance, then without hesitation gave the command: “Overload shields—turrets one through four, charge and aim. Everyone to the walls. Open fire as soon as the enemy enters the firing zone. You—go notify Changfeng Fortress. Typhon has declared war!”

“Yes, sir!”

The soldiers sprang into action. The commander clenched his fists tightly, his face set with grim resolve as he looked southeast once more. This veteran, who had fought at Rockhold Fortress and survived the Divine Disaster on the Holy Spirit Plains, now bore only determination.

The thermal cone had formed. The Typhon knights had begun their charge. There was no time left for communication or confirmation. Since the enemy had chosen to strike without warning, defending this camp was now his and his soldiers’ responsibility.

Something was off about this. The commander sensed it. Typhon’s actions made no sense. Sending an elite knight legion to recklessly assault the line without mage support was sheer folly. Even if they tore open the camp’s defenses, could they break through the entire Changfeng line afterward?

But at this moment, no one could explain the strangeness—the enemy was here.

Energy surged between crystal and metal. The fixed magi-cannons adjusted their angles with precise gear and bearing movements, barrels raised and aimed at the charging knights. After a brief delay, the cannon roared as the projectile accelerated down the rails. A pale cyan light tore through the last shadows of the winter dawn.

The mana-infused crystal shell screamed through the air in a long arc. Below, the knights charged across the plains, their ranks shimmering with surging magical energy, creating an eerie, almost illusory effect. The roar from above did not escape the superhuman soldiers’ ears, but not a single knight glanced upward during the charge.

The shell landed squarely in the Iron River Knights’ formation, followed by a deafening explosion that shook the plains.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

A massive explosion cloud billowed upward, carried by the shockwave. The shield hovering over the knight order suddenly rippled with dense waves, and in some areas, the shield’s surface began to flicker with white noise patterns, like interference static. After all, a shield held up by sheer manpower could never compare to the fortress’s own protective barrier. Even if it could briefly withstand the full force of the “Heaven’s Fire,” it was clear it wouldn’t hold for long.

But just how much “Heaven’s Fire” did the Cecileans have?

Only seconds later, the answer came in the form of a sharp, piercing whistle rapidly descending from the sky.

Explosions erupted one after another. As the distance closed, the camp’s small artillery pieces opened fire. Wave after wave of shockwaves and blast clouds ravaged the combined shield above the knights. The barrier, propped up by a large number of supernaturals working in unison, began to show cracks and signs of extreme overload. Along the edges of the formation, knights started falling from their horses, victims of magical backlash or concussive injuries.

Yet they charged forward in silence, as if the pain wracking their bodies no longer registered.

The cone of thermal energy began to descend, gradually synchronizing with the spearhead formation of the knights. The camp commander watched this unfold, knowing full well that this first wave of assault was unstoppable.

“Prepare for impact—”

The next moment, the camp’s shield collided violently with the massive, constraining plasma cloud.

A piercing, teeth-grinding screech filled the shield’s interior. Bright, dense sparks erupted from the shield generators and mana capacitors embedded in the walls. Large patches of white noise flickered across the front of the camp’s barrier. In the commander’s eyes, the Typhon knights had already begun to shift formation before the thermal cone even made contact. While allowing the high-energy cloud to batter the shield, they split into over a dozen waves, launching coordinated assaults on the shield’s various nodes.

The Cecilean soldiers atop the walls retaliated with ray guns, lightning generators, and all manner of infantry weapons, but the commander knew the camp couldn’t hold.

Just as the energy barrier raised by the Typhon knights couldn’t match the fortress’s shield, this mere border camp… was no Changfeng Fortress.

The low hum of the shield’s imminent collapse buzzed in his ears.

“How much longer until the Iron Throne arrives?”

“Commander, the World Serpent has already passed through Outpost 17 and is on its way!”

“All units—ignite your blades!” The commander gritted his teeth and drew his molten cutting sword from his waist. “For our country!”

(End of chapter)