NOVEL NEXT Chapter 127: The coming wave
At the Southern Force Frontline, beneath the vast, obsidian galaxy dusted with twinkling stars, the battlefield lay in ruin, scarred by cracks and craters, strewn with shattered debris, and veiled in a restless wind thick with dust. The once-solid ground now bore the wounds of war, its surface a silent testament to the chaos that had unfolded.
A dense, bone-white fog stretched across the land like a dividing chasm, shifting and curling in slow, deliberate waves, as if a living barrier between two worlds. On one side, the towering primordial beasts had retreated, forming a protective pyramid-like formation around an unseen figure. Their massive silhouettes loomed over the battlefield, unmoving yet radiating an ominous presence. On the other side, nestled within their encampment, the Celestials stood in quiet vigilance, their breath visible in the cold night air as they waited for what was to come.
A shadow emerged from the haze. Moving with a deliberate, unsteady gait, it carried a long, dark staff in its right hand, each step dragging against the war-torn earth. The lone figure approached a distinct tent, its fabric rippling softly in the night breeze. Without hesitation, the shadow lifted its left hand and swept the entrance aside, stepping into the dimly lit interior.
The light revealed Vega. Leaning on her walking stick for support, she took another careful step forward, her fractured leg healing but still fragile. Inside, Centric sat with his legs crossed, while Kal and Seraphina, recently stirred from a deep slumber, remained on the floor. Seraphina, still caught in the haze of sleep, stretched her legs lazily across the ground, rubbing her tired eyes as if willing herself to process reality.
A familiar voice cut through the tent's silence. "You're finally awake after sleeping through the whole day after being saved," Vega said, her voice low and sharp, though absent of malice.
Seraphina blinked, her drowsiness vanishing in an instant. She stared, as if struggling to believe what her eyes beheld.
"Ve... Vega?" Without thinking, she scrambled to her feet, unsteady, reckless, and threw herself at Vega, wrapping her arms around her in a fierce embrace. The force of it sent Vega's walking stick clattering to the floor.
"Hey, stop acting like a child. Let go of me," Vega huffed, her face tinged with the faintest shade of red.
Seraphina, still holding onto Vega's wrists, pulled back slightly, her expression softening. "How's your leg? Is it still bad?"
"It's healing, as you can see. I'm standing now, aren't I? Just need a bit more time before I'm back to moving properly."
Seraphina's gaze lowered, her fingers tightening around Vega's wrists. A shadow of guilt clouded her features.
"I'm sorry… If I had just acted like a leader..."
"Enough of that," Vega interrupted sharply, cutting off Seraphina's self-reproach before it could take root. "Everything is fine, and..." she exhaled, giving a pointed glance around the tent, "...everyone here is watching."
Seraphina stiffened.
Only now did she remember they weren't alone. Her gaze shifted hesitantly, first to Kal, seated nearby, then to Centric beside him. Both were watching with quiet amusement, their eyes flickering with intrigue as they bore witness to the unexpected reunion.
Seraphina's face burned crimson.
"Ha... ha... ha..." An awkward, forced laugh bubbled from her lips. She slapped both hands over her face in sheer embarrassment.
"You can't just sit there and stare at people talking!" she protested, her muffled voice barely escaping through her palms.
For the first time since the start of this arduous journey, Centric's usually stern expression softened. A rare, fleeting smile curved his lips as he lowered his gaze, his right hand lifting slightly to cover it, as if to shield the moment from the weight of reality.
The air inside the tent remained thick with unspoken tension, a heavy silence draped over the gathered figures like a suffocating shroud. The flickering lamplight cast restless shadows against the canvas walls, distorting shapes, making them seem like lurking specters. Then, a voice, calm yet commanding, sliced through the atmosphere like the first crack of dawn breaking an endless night.
"That's enough of that," the voice declared.
All eyes shifted toward the darkened corner of the tent, where the flickering lamplight barely reached. A shadowed figure emerged, his silhouette stretching and shrinking against the tent walls as he stepped forward. Seraphina lowered the hand she had unconsciously raised to her face, her sharp gaze narrowing on the approaching presence. As he stepped fully into the light, his features became clear, Hung, his ever-stoic demeanor intact, carried a tray laden with five cups of tea, the rising steam curling in delicate, ghostly wisps.
"Since everyone is here, let's dive into what truly matters," he continued.
Kal rose from his seat, meeting him halfway, effortlessly lifting the tray from Hung's hands.
"If we are all gathered here, does that mean we've lost?" Seraphina's voice carried an edge, her unease barely concealed beneath her composed expression. "Are we merely hiding from the flank of beasts?"
Her piercing gaze swept over the others, seeking reassurance in their expressions.
Vega, who had remained silent, finally moved, placing a gentle hand on Seraphina's left shoulder.
"Calm down," she murmured, her voice a soothing contrast to the storm brewing in Seraphina's eyes. "Things are still under control."
Seraphina turned to Vega just as the woman took an unsteady step forward. Without hesitation, Seraphina instinctively reached for her waist, steadying her.
"She's right," Hung interjected, now lowering himself onto the ground, folding his legs beneath him in one fluid motion. "Let's sit. We need clear minds if we are to make it through what's coming."
Seraphina hesitated for only a breath before slowly lowering herself, guiding Vega down as well. Now seated in a loose circle, they watched as Kal passed around the steaming cups of tea before taking his place among them.
Hung took a deliberate sip, his gaze steady as he exhaled slowly, letting the warmth of the tea settle before he spoke. "We have a maximum of two days."
A shift rippled through the group, silent, yet profound. Their fingers tightened around their cups, the heat grounding them against the weight of Hung's words.
Kal was the first to break the silence. "Sorry, what does that mean? Are you saying we have two days to end the war or...?"
"No," Centric interjected, his tone grave. "Two days before the next wave of battle against the primordial beasts."
Seraphina and Kal exchanged glances, confusion flickering between them.
"You wouldn't know," Vega continued, "since you both were unconscious by the time the last wave ended. We launched the last three Thanacrite weapons in our arsenal, creating a dark gas barrier that forced the beasts to halt their advance."
"That barrier is estimated to hold for no more than two days, given the wind currents." Hung's voice carried a weight of inevitability. "Which is why we need to be at full strength before then."
A heavy pause followed, each member of the circle retreating into their own thoughts, weighing the burden of the approaching storm.
Centric exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face. "Even if we recover, can we truly deal with them? Not to be a pessimist, but let's face reality, all the beasts we've taken down so far were already weakened by the Thanacrite. Without it, can we sustain the same progress?"
Hung's expression didn't falter. "We may not be able to defeat them outright, even at full strength. But we can hold out, long enough for the reinforcements approaching from the beasts' rear to arrive. When they do, the enemy will be caught in a pincer attack, forced to scatter. That's when we strike."
Silence stretched, thin yet suffocating. The weight of the plan, its fragile hope, its dangerous gamble, settled upon them like a smothering fog.
"Are we certain they'll get here in time? Before things turn for the worse?" Vega broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper.
Hung took another slow sip, the steam curling around his face as he finally gave a slight shake of his head. "We can only hope. That's the only luck we have left."
As the quiet threatened to settle once more, a sharp crack rang out, the unmistakable sound of bones shifting under pressure.
All eyes turned to the source, Seraphina sat with her fists clenched, rolling her wrists, her knuckles whitening from the strain. Her breath came measured but heavy, her expression shadowed with something unreadable. Then, in the dim glow of the fire, she murmured a single name, one laced with something between longing and determination.
"Zion..." For a fleeting moment, Nyxander's smirking visage flashed through her mind, and her grip only tightened.
At the end of the alternative route, Nyxander and his six subordinates stood firm, their figures cast in sharp relief against the dimming horizon, facing the escort like silent sentinels. The cold breeze whispered around them, carrying the scent of distant earth and the unspoken weight of the journey ahead.
"You don't have to worry about the dangers that lie ahead. You may proceed without us," Nyxander said, his voice steady, carrying the quiet authority of a man who had long made peace with battle. His cloak rippled slightly as the wind coiled around them, a spectral dance between past and present.
"We need to prevent any Flashstamp from slipping past and attacking you," he added, his gaze unreadable, as if already calculating the unseen threats lurking beyond the veil of dusk.
A hush fell over the assembled travelers, broken only by the murmurs of apprehension. The merchants exchanged glances, their hushed chattering like the rustling of leaves before a storm. Finally, one among them stepped forward, his expression lined with the gratitude of a man who knew the worth of protection.
"Thank you. We understand your goodwill," he said, his voice tinged with relief. "Please, proceed with your plan, we will not hinder you."
A solemn nod passed between them before the escort resumed their journey. One by one, they turned away, their silhouettes fading into the distance, swallowed by the road ahead. Some raised hands in silent farewell, a fleeting gesture of respect and acknowledgment before vanishing beyond sight.
Nyxander stood unmoving, his gaze fixed upon the fading horizon, his thoughts already reaching beyond the moment.
"Let's go," he commanded, his tone laced with quiet resolve.
"Yes, sir!" came the unhesitant response, their voices carrying the weight of purpose.
"Here we come." With that, Nyxander leaped onto the Aether Glide, his figure cutting through the air like a blade unsheathed, while his subordinates followed, vanishing into the abyss, silent shadows soaring toward the war that awaited them.