NOVEL NEXT Chapter 160: Moved back
West of the Shule River Basin, in the jagged ravines that lined the dried-out riverbed, the European forces had dug in. It was one of their new strongholds this side of the western border, a strategically placed fortress complex that combined natural terrain, enchanted bunkers, and overlapping mana-barrier fields.
From this position, they could strike deep into Gansu, controlling the highlands and cutting off several civilian escape routes.
The camp buzzed with grim confidence. Their elite strike force had been rotated in hours ago, seven S-Rankers, handpicked from the Coalition's European High Command.
Their mission was to destroy the expected retaliation strike team that the Chinese would definitely send out, now that the beast waves had been contained.
They were flanked by fourteen A-Rankers, three small platoons of elite mecha pilots, and two dozen spellcasters arranged in overlapping wards along the ridge lines.
The S-Rankers lounged beneath a canopy of shimmering wardlight, their eyes sharp, their demeanor casual.
A young French pyromancer named Levert leaned against a scorched pillar, toying with a burning coin between his fingers.
"I wonder if ze old geezer Liang is still alive?" he muttered, half-smiling. "My fatzer said he was extremely impressive back in ze day. I would love ze opportunity to kill him."
A German hammer-mage named Karl laughed, thumping his weapon into the earth. "Why are you so fixated on killing the strong ones? Killing the civilians are much more fun. That last group of villagers screamed beautifully. The fear… The desperation… Ah… Exquisite.."
"Any survivors?" asked a pale, long-haired woman from the Italian Division, her tone dry.
"Of course not. I slaughtered them all." someone replied.
"Good," she said, lips curling. "Children are loud. It's better this way."
They chuckled.
Then the wind shifted.
The heat of the ravine dimmed. Mana in the air grew thick… Too thick. Like storm air just before the sky breaks open.
And then it did.
Lightning struck from the heavens in a blinding arc of white and gold, shattering one of their signal towers with a deafening boom that echoed for miles. An instant later, a second blast of compressed force erupted from the canyon wall, tearing through defensive enchantments like they were paper.
When the dust settled, General Riki and General Maru stood side by side, one sheathed in rippling arcs of electric wrath, the other surrounded by gravitational force so heavy the stones beneath his boots shattered into powdered glass.
Behind them, Damien appeared with ten Chinese A-Rankers, his eyes glowing faintly as his undead crept into formation behind him like smoke made flesh.
The Europeans stared for a long second.
Then they laughed again.
"You're sending two broken men and a boy?" the French pyromancer Levert asked, flames flickering in his palm. "And a few weaklings still in ze A rank? Where is zat Liang guy? Is he dead?"
The German hammer-mage Karl snorted. "You Chinese dogs sure are annoying. Why don't you just lay over and die already? Your defences are down, half your S Rankers are dead and almost three quarters of your population are rotting under the sun. You have no hope."
Damien said nothing.
General Riki's eyes narrowed.
General Maru rolled his shoulders, mana rippling.
"Fine. Die then." The hammer-mage raised his weapon… then froze.
In that instant, Riki moved.
There was no warning. No chant. Just a blinding flash of light as wind and lightning bent through space. In a single, perfect step, Riki was in front of the hammer-mage—his hand pressed to the man's chest. The hammer-mage's eyes widened. He tried to swing.
Too late.
Thunder Spear: Red Judgment.
Lightning exploded outward, arcing through bone and soul. The man's scream was cut off halfway as his body disintegrated, armor melting, heart bursting, mana core shredded.
One down.
Before the next S-Ranker could react, General Maru lifted both arms and clapped.
The air warped. Gravity and ice surged.
The Italian mage screamed as her body collapsed in on itself, pulled to the ground with crushing force. Her protective shield flared, cracked, then gave out entirely. Blood sprayed upward like a fountain as her organs burst under the pressure.
Two down.
The other five S-Rankers leapt backward, retreating into a wedge formation, eyes wide.
No one was laughing now.
The French pyromancer screamed, "KILL ZEM!"
The battle began in earnest.
The ridge erupted in fire and steel. European mages launched infernos, icicles, sonic spears, and curse bolts. Their mechas surged forward, flanking with heavy ordnance and precision blasts.
But Damien was already moving.
He dashed down the slope, Sovereign Stride active, his blade glowing with mysterious time ripples. The golden path shimmered before him, and he followed it without hesitation.
An enemy A-Ranker raised a mana shotgun.
Damien appeared behind him.
One stroke, clean and silent.
The soldier dropped, bloodless, eyes wide.
Two more A-Rankers tried to cast in tandem, building a containment spell.
Damien flicked his wrist. His sword sheared through both barriers mid-chant. Then he kicked one into a pile of his undead, who dragged the screaming man into the dust.
The other lost his throat before he could scream.
The Chinese A-Rankers surged in behind him.
A hail of coordinated spells tore into the enemy flanks, earth spikes, freezing blasts, lightning nets. They moved like veterans, unrelenting and precise.
An enemy mecha tried to flank from the right.
Damien jumped.
His blade carved through the cockpit shield as if it were mist. The pilot died before the explosion even bloomed.
Screams echoed through the ravine.
Meanwhile, Riki and Maru had already advanced.
Riki's wind energy flared nonstop as he weaved through enemy fire, lightning rebounding from his shoulders.
He struck with surgical precision, a bolt to the core, a palm to the ribs, each attack fatal. His eyes glowed with stormlight, and his voice carried like thunder across the battlefield.
Maru crushed enemies with pressure fields so dense they could not even scream. His fists cracked reinforced bunkers, his ice froze, then shattered mana constructs, and buried mecha in their own craters.
The French pyromancer tried to flee, flames bursting in a wide arc.
Damien appeared above him mid-leap.
One downward slash split fire, flesh, and spine.
The man dropped, his mouth still half-open in a taunt he never got to finish.
The remaining three S-Rankers rallied briefly, launching a coordinated spell, a tri-elemental beam of ice, sound, and venom aimed directly at General Riki.
Maru stepped in front of it.
He raised one hand.
The beam stopped.
Condensed into a perfect sphere of glowing light.
Then he crushed it in his fist.
The shockwave flattened half the battlefield.
And then Riki moved.
He blurred behind one of the S-Rankers and struck.
The woman's body locked up, electrocuted from the inside. She dropped, smoking.
Two remained.
One screamed. The other ran.
Neither made it far.
By the time the dust cleared, only corpses and broken metal remained. The ravine was silent save for the crackle of dying flames and the soft hum of mana residue dissolving.
Damien stood near the edge of the slope, his sword still humming. The A-Rankers regrouped behind him, bloodied but alive.
General Riki exhaled softly.
General Maru cracked his knuckles.
It had taken five minutes.
The stronghold was gone.
The Shule River was silent.
The western line… Had just moved back a few kilometers..