NOVEL NEXT Chapter 111: what makes it complicated
Inside the dimly lit tent, silence reigned, thick and suffocating like a looming storm cloud. The three leaders and the commander sat cross-legged around a flickering oil lamp, its feeble glow casting elongated shadows that danced across the fabric walls. The air was tense, laden with the weight of unspoken fears and the gravity of what was about to be revealed. Sweat trickled down their brows, not from the warmth of the lamp but from the suffocating pressure settling over them like an iron shroud.
Hung exhaled, his breath steady yet laced with the heavy burden of command. "In three days, approximately five at most, we will meet the beast tide," he announced, his voice slicing through the silence like a honed blade. Centric and Seraphina swallowed hard, the reality of the impending battle sinking in like a stone in deep water.
Nyxander leaned forward, his sharp gaze fixated on Hung. "What about their current numbers?" His voice, though calm, carried an undertone of urgency, like a commander bracing for an inevitable storm.
Hung's eyes darkened. "They number around fifty," he admitted, his words falling like lead upon the tense air. "This meeting is to finalize our plan before we reinforce those facing the northeast front."
From beneath the folds of his robe, Hung produced a tattered map, its edges worn from years of use. Spreading it before them, he traced a weathered finger over the rough parchment, the lines depicting the treacherous landscape of the Primordial World. "We cannot afford to protect merchants and non-combatants while engaging the Primordial Beasts head-on. The only option is to guide them through an alternative route while we hold off the creatures."
His finger stopped at a narrow, winding passage, a curved route snaking away from the battlefield. "This path will ensure their safety, and Zion's team will be responsible for escorting them."
Nyxander's brows furrowed. "Two Astro teams facing a tide of beasts won't be an easy task. My presence would be more efficient on the battlefield rather than escorting civilians."
Hung met his gaze, his expression unreadable. "If you recall," he began, voice slow and deliberate, "I mentioned that your team's role is crucial in this war." He traced the alternative route again, this time emphasizing its curvature, forming a near-perfect 'C'. "This path leads to the rear of the beast tide, a point of vulnerability. There's a significant probability that some of the creatures will retreat and attempt to follow the escape route, bringing them into direct contact with our weaker celestial allies."
The realization settled over Nyxander like a cold tide. "And you need me there to ensure none slip through," he murmured.
Hung nodded. "Exactly. If we can secure the passage, you can ensure their safety and then flank the Primordial Beasts from behind, cornering them, they can find their way forward. As for the rest..." He exhaled deeply. "We bet on our strength and luck."
"Hmm... Yawwwn." Seraphina stretched, covering her mouth lazily. "Then the plan is straightforward, charge until we win." Her words, delivered with a careless shrug, earned her a series of incredulous stares. She blinked, rolling her eyes. "What?" A faint blush crept across her cheeks, betraying her sudden self-awareness.
Hung, however, remained unaffected. His fingers curled into a fist atop the map. "This is where things get complicated," he said gravely.
A chilling stillness filled the space. Fear flickered in Centric's eyes, and even Seraphina straightened slightly, her earlier nonchalance dissolving under the weight of his words. But Nyxander, he merely smirked, as if he had already anticipated what was coming next.
"It's about the primordials themselves." The sudden statement sent a chill rippling down their spines, though they had yet to grasp the full weight of the connection between the Primordials and their impending plan. Hung's voice, steady yet laden with an unspoken urgency, continued slicing through the tension like a blade.
"Even though our battle suits shield us from detection, and the mobile mechanisms we carry can suppress the explosive impact of our clashes with those beasts, the sheer magnitude of the battle will inevitably draw them in," Hung stated grimly, his words lingering in the air like an unshakable omen. "And when that moment arrives, we won't have the luxury of regrouping. We run, or we are swallowed whole."
The air thickened as the weight of reality settled upon them. Hung pressed on, his expression unwavering. "That is the only solution we have. To ensure a seamless retreat and reassembly, we will regroup with the other forces under the Astro Lord's command. I expect you all to relay this to your squads, prepare them for this vulnerability."
Nyxander's mind churned as he listened, his gaze sharp with calculation. "I understand, but can I have the night map for better strategizing? It will aid in briefing my men after this meeting." His request was swift, leaving no room for hesitation. Without a word, Hung folded the map and handed it over. "That concludes tonight's meeting," he declared, dismissing them with a final nod.
As Nyxander strode back to camp, his mind remained a battlefield of its own, dissecting every word spoken. The moment he crossed the perimeter, Kola was the first to spot him. "Boss, you're back," he said, straightening alongside the others, their faces expectant. They all stood to greet him, their eyes brimming with silent inquiries.
Nyxander wasted no time. "We have much to discuss," he announced. The four squad leaders swiftly took their seats before him, their postures attentive, like soldiers awaiting a crucial command. With measured precision, Nyxander relayed every detail of the meeting, the weight of his words settling over them like a looming storm.
"In short, the battle hinges on time," Karl mused, his fingers instinctively tightening into a fist. "The longer it drags on, the worse it plays in our favor."
"Which means we must unleash everything from the start, before time turns against us," Lunara added, her eyes gleaming with resolve.
Nyxander hummed in agreement, then unfolded the map, his sharp vision aided by the soft starlight. His eyes traced the intricacies of the battlefield, absorbing every minute detail.
"According to this layout, the twelve Primordial clans are divided into two vast regions, six in the North, six in the South," he murmured, half to himself, half to the wind. The conversation between his squad leaders droned in the background, an ever-present hum of strategy and tension.
His finger glided across the map. "In the North, the Nihilith Clan, also known by the celestial and recorded as Void Clan on the map, resides in the Northeast... where I belong." His voice was almost distant, but he pushed forward. "The Structure and Material Clan governs the North Central. The Vitality and Life Clan commands the Northwest. The Shadow and Obscurity Clan is positioned at the extreme Northwest... That must be where the demons are."
His mind raced through the implications, unraveling possibilities like a weaver at his loom. "Wait... which clan are we set to confront? If we can identify them, we might decipher the dominant abilities their beasts wield."
His eyes scanned the map relentlessly, his fingers tracing its lines with meticulous intent.
Then. "Hmph. Energy Manipulation Clan," he muttered under his breath, his brows furrowing. "What kind of abilities do they wield?" He dove deep into thought, theories and uncertainties clashing within his mind like warring titans.
A voice, distant yet persistent, blurred into his consciousness. It wasn't until it grew insistent that his ears finally caught on.
"Boss... Boss. Boss!" Nyxander snapped out of his reverie, his gaze shifting to meet the concerned eyes of his subordinates.
"Boss, is everything alright?" Karl asked, his tone laced with concern. Nyxander exhaled, grounding himself in the present. "I'm fine. Just analyzing the map."
The night stretched on, cloaked in strategy and silent anticipation. The weight of war loomed ever closer, pressing against them like an inevitable tide, waiting to engulf them whole.
The next day, daylight unfurled its golden rays across the earth, stretching shadows long and thin as the journey commenced. The wind, restless and untamed, swept across the barren landscape, lifting dust into swirling specters that danced and twisted before vanishing into the endless expanse. The travelers pressed forward, their figures carving a determined path through the rugged terrain, weaving between jagged mountains, rolling hills, and scattered rock formations that stood like ancient sentinels guarding the unknown.
Two days passed, and the endless stretch of sandy soil, once an ocean of golden grains, gradually gave way to patches of earth sprinkled with sparse, defiant blades of grass. The harsh desert air softened, carrying with it a hint of greenery, a whisper of life beyond the arid wasteland. By midday, Nyxander's team, along with the merchants and unofficial travelers, reached the designated point of separation. As planned, they splintered off from the main group, veering onto an alternative route.
The path ahead was uncertain, the journey merely unfolding, but the resolve of those who walked it remained unshaken.