Chapter 1378: Chapter 1377: The Next Phase

Another aberration Legion has been annihilated in the conflagration and thunderous Skyfire; their fearless assault could not breach the defenses of the mortals, merely delaying the activation time of the purification devices slightly—a sharp wail echoed within the neural network as the neural signals from the large number of eliminated lower units resounded across the command nodes formed by dark priests until only a faint ripple remained when it reached the highest node.

The dry wind swept across the hills and wastelands. Balken’s withered and twisted branches quivered slightly in the breeze, and the Grand Dark Archbishop listened to the distant sounds with the wind. The wails of the lowly, mindless nodes at their demise sounded to him like a distant dream. After several minutes, the leader of the dark priests awoke from the "dream" and gradually refocused on the reality before him.

"They have already begun a full-scale counterattack," he said slowly in a deep voice, speaking not to any particular priest but whispering softly across the entire neural network. He wasn’t concerned this would affect the "morale" of his side because all priests were connected in the same neural network. Over time, a certain degree of "assimilation" had occurred among all emotions despite each node in the network maintaining its original personality and memory. Nevertheless, notions of "betrayal" or "abandonment" had been erased. No matter how the situation evolved, the will of the evil-cult would remain unwavering, always advancing towards that ultimate goal.

It was a common and voluntary decision for all involved, Balken included.

"Those purification devices are gradually eroding our land; it seems they aim to establish some form of ’barrier’ across this wasteland," a voice from a certain dark hierarch resonated within the neural network, "wherever this barrier extends, our survival environment is greatly affected, even... leading to ’reversal.’"

"If that wall is erected, the energy cycle of the wasteland is highly likely to be severed," an elderly-sounding voice joined the network. "It seems they have discovered the deep operational mechanisms of this land, deciphering the endless principles of the aberration Legion—our current forces are hard-pressed to thoroughly stop them, and those purification devices are advancing towards the central area at a tremendous speed."

Another gust from the direction of the wasteland stirred a rustling wave through the twisted forest surrounding the hill, the discussion within the neural network continued, yet Balken’s focus shifted in a different direction—footsteps approached him, the identical faces of two elves appeared before him, speaking in unison: "It sounds like our situation isn’t very good right now?"

Balken’s gaze lazily swept over the Elven Twins: "I didn’t expect you to worry about the situation—I thought you only cared about muttering together rather than the outcome of the battlefield."

"You have misunderstood us—we do care about our common cause, only that we appear overly indifferent by nature," Fyrna said earnestly, while Lelena followed immediately, "So, what do you think of the current situation? We’ve been pushed back on nearly all fronts. In the past half-month, not only have we failed to deploy any new Rune Stones, but we’ve also lost all our occupied lands, which doesn’t seem very promising..."

Balken silently glanced at the Elven Twins, then slightly closed his eyes: "The situation indeed hasn’t unfolded as we initially planned, but it’s not so dire either... We are unlike those Mortal Armies; as long as the wasteland environment persists, our legion is inexhaustible, and the loss of aberrations is negligible... The regeneration rate of the Bio-synthetic Beasts completely matches the consumption, whereas those mortals... they gain no spoils on this barren land, their activities here are purely costs. Maybe it’s harder to achieve a swift victory now, but as long as we maintain this attrition... the final victor might not necessarily be those mortals."

It appears this Grand Dark Archbishop has somehow acknowledged the current circumstances, understanding the ’essence’ of this war. Not disheartened, he opted for a different route to victory.

But Fyrna and Lelena, upon hearing Balken’s words, simultaneously shook their heads. Lelena spoke up, "Do you truly believe that?"

"Just say what you wish, " Balken opened his eyes, his yellow-brown pupils peering at the Twin Elves, "I’m not fond of your riddles and metaphors."

"Then we’ll speak plainly," Fyrna shrugged, "You do not understand the potential of a nation that has completed its industrial transformation in terms of warfare, nor do you comprehend the workings of the economic system established after Cecil successfully integrated the Alliance Countries. You habitually assume that this prolonged war will drag down all the alliance countries... In some respects, that’s correct; any endless war can wear down a nation, but frankly... the intensity of the battles on the wasteland has already dropped below the ’threshold’ for that newborn alliance."

"Below the threshold?" Balken’s voice turned serious, "What do you mean?"

"Their economy will gradually adapt to wartime conditions, their industrial machinery will expand rapidly in the upcoming period, their war machines and artillery will be produced at a staggering pace, even growing faster than grain in the field. The alliance will establish a new social order specifically suited for this war, and after short-term attrition, investment, and adaptation, this war will become a new point of economic growth and societal cohesion, a new wealth mechanism, a new industrial cycle, a new cultural atmosphere... Even the currently most backward city-states will be swept into swift industrialization in this process.

"Grand Archbishop, do you think that sending rotating legions to the front lines to shoot targets can bring down a group of industrial countries? It’s impossible; that requires a higher level of warfare intensity, at least making it so their industrial production cannot keep up with frontline expenditure. You fail to achieve this; you haven’t depleted them, you are merely ’cultivating’ them into a... war civilization."

After the Elven Twins finished speaking, Balken fell into deep contemplation. For a long time, the eerie-speaking elven sisters hardly ever delivered such lengthy theories, and with such earnestness, which stirred greater waves in Balken’s heart than ever before. He slowly grasped the meaning within the Elven Twins’ words, his face of coarse, dry bark turning solemn: "You have run a ’calculation’?"

"This requires hardly any calculation," Fyrna smiled and said, "In the long historical records of the silver elves, we have witnessed various forms of civilizations and social stages. The operation mode of industrial society is different from what you are acquainted with. Even the once seemingly mighty Gondor Empire, if viewed from the perspective of civilization level, was actually inferior to the present ’alliance.’ You can think back now, in this war, after those Realm of the Mortals reacted from the initial chaos, from when they started partial counterattacks to now, have the mortals armed by the war machine... multiplied?"

Multiplied!

The word struck like lightning in Balken’s heart, he realized the truth revealed behind this crucial detail. A longstanding inertia in thinking and unaware of the situation beyond the wasteland had kept him from focusing on the operating mechanism behind the alliance. Yet, at this moment, he realized that what these cryptic-speaking Elven sisters had told him was indeed true.

Those mortals... their war machines’ growth rate had already surpassed the power limitations of the Wasteland Legion, this war to that "alliance" was no longer a burden, but increasingly turning into nourishment for their growth. Their technological and production capabilities were not declining, they were beginning to accelerate instead, with the purification devices and the mechanized armies emerging from each frontline serving as a testament to this development!

In comparison, the Wasteland Legion was nearly out of cards to play.

"...They’re using us for training, testing their weapons and equipment," Balken said in a voice exceptionally low and raspy. An unsettling wave of thoughts spread through the root network as he lifted his gaze, his eyes resting on the Fyrna Sisters, "You came running to tell me this, presumably not just to scare me or for a bit of humor, right?"

"Certainly not," Lelena replied, her voice calm, "We’ve said before, we have a common goal—that’s why we don’t wish for you to stumble into this war trap so passively and sluggishly. What we said earlier was to awaken you; the next step is how to resolve the predicament we currently face."

"Do you have any solutions?" Balken squinted slightly, "If everything you just said is logically correct, then the Wasteland Legion is already caught in an unsolvable vortex. We’ve stepped into this trap—although only at its edge, in this vortex, we don’t have the strength to pull our leg out. Could it be you have a way to destroy the industrial system of the alliance in a short time? Or dismantle their alliance?"

"Don’t think in that direction anymore. The front lines are already irretrievable, or rather we couldn’t have won this war from the very start—we still only have the power of the Deep Blue Webway to rely on," Fyrna said solemnly, and Lelena immediately followed, "Perhaps someday the mortals can develop to a point where they challenge the Deep Blue Webway, but at least for now, their industry and technology are still insignificant before the Deep Blue Webway. As long as we hold the reins of this planet, we can crush all their potential and future with unmatched power..."

"So we still need to tame this planet—I know this, of course," Balken said unpleasantly, "But as I mentioned earlier, they’ve pushed us back within the great walls. Without new drop points, we can’t set new Rune Stones. How do you plan to continue taming this planet?"

"Who said we don’t have new drop points?" Fyrna suddenly smiled, her gaze seemingly bypassing the Grand Dark Archbishop to look towards a direction deep in the wasteland, "Isn’t there a large-scale deep blue node right under our noses?"

Balken paused, then realized: "You mean that ancient ghost’s territory? Indeed... it has the largest surface-level Deep Blue Rift on this planet, but it also has a functioning Iron Soldier Corps and a fully armed Gondor Fortress! We need to rally a great army to conquer it—but before that, our front lines might have already suffered a total collapse!"

"So... we need to pay a price," Lelena said, looking seriously at Balken’s dry, wrinkled face, "Archmage Balken, the key question now is... what price are you willing to pay for our noble shared cause?"

"...What do you mean?"

"Are you ready to go all-in?"

...

The Heavy Incinerator’s flaming tongue swept across the earth one last time. Under the horrifying heat created by alchemical oils and magical flames, those mutated monsters with dreadful limbs and foul breaths finally turned to ashes. As the flames gradually dissipated, only charred remains and twitching flesh fragments were left on the ground. The smoke from the self-decomposition of aberrations mixed among the bio-synthetic beasts, enveloping the entire battlefield in an unyielding fog.

An unusually tall figure walked forward with heavy steps, holding a mechanical warhammer in one hand and a Heavy Incinerator in the other. The scripture cloth emitting a faint white light was fixed to his thick armor with fire lacquer and rivets, radiating a sacred brilliance that dazzled the eyes.

He passed soldiers and priests cleaning the battlefield and approached a freshly parked heavy war vehicle. Watching as Sir Philip deftly jumped off it, the tall figure casually placed the heavy warhammer on the ground beside him and reached up to remove his helmet. Then, a small figure emerged from the nearby Holy Light, skillfully climbing onto his shoulders, wrapping itself around his head and swaying.

"High Priest Rhett," Philip nodded to the fully armed Holy Light Leader before smiling and waving at the little figure on the High Priest’s shoulders, "and little Emily."

"Good afternoon, Uncle Philip," the small figure formed by the Holy Light said in an ethereal voice, carrying laughter, "We’ve wiped out the enemy again!"

"These aberrations’ counterattacks have grown more frantic, yet from a command standpoint, they’re more disordered," Rhett said, patting Emily’s hair, addressing Philip, "I think they’re even less of a threat than a few days ago. At least back then, they knew how to cover each other and use terrain in battle."

"Their frenzied counterattacks are due to our ever-advancing purification devices stimulating these creatures’ instincts. Their chaotic actions indicate their underlying command system is overwhelmed—the alliance is launching multi-line counterattacks, and all countries have recovered from prior chaos, increasing the number of troops committed to this battlefield. But those dark priests are not professional in warfare," Philip shook his head, "Initially, they succeeded only through surprise and numerical advantage—they don’t truly understand how to fight on a real, conventional battlefield."

Rhett nodded, gazing into the distance. He saw roots and vines sprouting from the earth, quickly spreading over the wasteland, forcing lush green over the desolate land. Among them, larger, more flexible tendrils continually extended, acting like arms scouring the battlefield, picking through charred and shattered monster remains, swiftly rolling up salvageable fragments and dragging them underground. It looked strangely eerie... yet somewhat comical.

That was the Living Forest, stretching deep into the wasteland, playing an indispensable role throughout the entire war, advancing alongside the Cecil Legion.

The High Priest’s expression turned a bit odd.

"Honestly... our battlefield isn’t particularly ’normal’ either..."

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