No! I don't want to be a Super Necromancer!

In the global news feeds, disbelief reigned.

Live satellite streams, high-resolution drone feeds, and decrypted battlefield telemetry painted a horrifying timeline. One moment, China was locked in a desperate struggle, barely holding its cities, with beast waves tearing across its central provinces.

The next, while flames still burned through its hospitals and civilians screamed in broken shelters, Europe had launched a brutal barrage of missiles that shattered the Chinese defensive lines and doomed the Chinese population.

As if it wasn't evil enough, they even launched a ground invasion.

It was a calculated, brutal advance timed perfectly to coincide with the peak of the beast assault.

As fellow human beings, they didn't help. They didn't offer support or even intelligence.

They freaking invaded.

They butchered the scattered defenders. They burned towns that had already been burned. And they slaughtered refugees who no longer even had the strength to beg.

But shockingly, the Chinese response was swift and bloody.

They struck back with strange weapons and within 48 hours, wiped out every single S Ranked European!

The global reaction was instantaneous.

In capitals across the world, outrage and praise flooded into the open.

The Indian Prime Minister issued a formal condemnation:

"We stand appalled. To attack a sovereign nation while it is under siege from non-human threats is unconscionable. This is not warfare. It is cowardice. And we wholeheartedly praise the Chinese for their strength and resilience in fighting back. India stands with you."

The President of Brazil posted a simple message that was shared over a hundred million times in one day:

"They were fighting extinction. Europe stabbed them in the spine. Europe is this era's villain, just as Adolf Hitler was for the 20th Century. China is both powerful and proud, their very successful counterstrike proves just that."

From Riyadh, the King of Saudi Arabia broke his usual diplomatic silence during a press conference with both civilian and military leaders present.

"What Europe has done is an act of betrayal that dishonors the principles of humanity. To strike during a beast siege is not just opportunism, it is evil. Saudi Arabia stands ready to offer energy, materials, and medical support to the Chinese people. We will not turn our backs on brothers who suffer."

Oil convoys and mana-refined fuel shipments were quietly rerouted east within hours of the broadcast.

And from Tokyo, Japan's Prime Minister addressed a stunned Parliament and an international press corps.

"We do not stand with those who strike the wounded. While we have our historical differences with China, today we speak not as rivals, but as human beings. The European offensive was a calculated and unforgivable act. Japan will increase security cooperation and offer defensive technology to aid in rebuilding China's mana infrastructure."

Japan dispatched two tech-hardened Mana Grid Stabilization Teams to the ruins of Beijing's outer shield arrays that very night.

Across Africa, where memories of colonial betrayal still lingered in raw layers beneath diplomacy, anger turned to fire. Several nations suspended diplomatic communication with the European Coalition.

Even longtime allies faltered.

Australia's Defense Minister, speaking in a closed-door UN roundtable (later leaked), said, "How do we explain this? China was fighting a losing battle. And instead of sending aid, Europe chose to finish the job for the beasts."

Whispers of sabotage began to circulate. Chinese intelligence had leaked fragments of their internal reports, hints that someone had interfered with their mana grid at a critical moment.

Evidence that some of the shield disruptions weren't from beast damage. That power outages in several cities had been triggered remotely.

That timing wasn't just convenient, it was deliberate.

And Europe had struck precisely when the system fell.

Every hour, more proof surfaced. Drones had been shot down before they reached the western provinces. Orbital communications had been jammed. European transmission logs were missing from the timestamps leading up to the attack.

It wasn't just betrayal.

It might have been planned.

In Washington, the White House faced growing pressure to respond.

President Quinn stood at the press podium, her face pale under the spotlights, her voice tight.

"We did not authorize, support, or encourage this incursion. Let me be clear: what happened to the Chinese people while they were under attack by global-class beast waves is a tragedy. And we will not ignore it."

The United States was the only major nation that followed up their words with action.

Within twelve hours, the United States issued a formal declaration to upgrade their defensive alliance to full alliance with China.

It was broadcast live from the Pentagon, with flags at full mast and every major network tuned in.

Secretary of Defense Mitchell stood flanked by the highest-ranking generals in the U.S. military as he addressed the world. His voice was steady, his tone grim.

"The People's Republic of China has endured coordinated beast assaults on a scale the world has never seen. In the midst of this crisis, they were attacked without warning… By other human forces. The United States of America condemns these actions in the strongest possible terms, and as of this moment, we declare a full military alliance with China to repel all further incursions—beast or manmade. We stand with China. Completely. And when the time is right… Our forces will cross the border with our Chinese brothers and wage war against the despicable Europeans."

And America followed through.

U.S. aircraft carriers were immediately repositioned into high-alert formations throughout the Pacific. Two full strike groups anchored off the southern coast of China, their decks crowded with mecha, mana bombers, and support drones.

Orbital surveillance satellites rotated eastward, feeding live tactical data into encrypted links connected directly to Beijing's Central Command.

Three rapid-deployment medical battalions touched down on the outskirts of Shanghai and Nanjing within hours, bringing modular hospital domes, airborne supply chains, and American mage-medics trained in frontline trauma care.

Engineers and technicians disembarked alongside elite mecha pilots, their uniforms stitched with dual insignias—one for China, one for the United States.

But the most dramatic response came within eighteen hours.

A full division of the U.S. mana-mecha corps, outfitted with third-generation Arcblade suits and long-range mana fusion tanks, was deployed by skybridge into the western provinces.

They entrenched themselves along the ravaged highlands of Xinjiang, taking position just beyond the remnants of the European front.

Automated turret lines rose overnight. Satellite-guided missile platforms locked into position across scorched plateaus. Portable mana fortresses assembled themselves from modular alloy units, their walls glowing with U.S. energy cores and Chinese defense runes.

It was not simply humanitarian aid.

It was a red line.

A shield drawn across China's bleeding flank, backed by the world's other superpower.

The message was clear: if Europe tried to strike again, they would not be striking China alone.

They would be going through the United States.

But that was the extent of it.

The beast waves had shown the world a vision of apocalypse. Every country now scrambled to reinforce its own borders, recalibrate its mana shielding, secure its reservoirs and vaults.

Outrage over China's plight was important.

But securing their own fates far outweighed it.

Back in Beijing, President Jiang read the final report with her arms folded and her face blank.

"We held the border," a young aide said behind her, voice trembling.

"No," President Jiang replied.

"We buried it."

She turned toward the east, where beast roars still echoed across burning cities.

Because the fight wasn't over.

And vengeance, while satisfying, did not bring back the dead.