The war raged on!
The fodder were all but obliterated. What remained was a contest between the elites of both clans.
The war towers and goblin chariots were blasting at each other from a kilometer away. A shocking number of combat machines stepped onto this explosive battlefield.
To minimize the number of casualties, the magical machines stood in a loose-yet-orderly formation. They wildly unleashed their firepower at the war towers as they marched forward.
Naturally, the war towers wouldn’t just stand still and leave them be. Blinding bolts of lightning crashed down from above, destroying one machine after another.
Meanwhile, the Dener Clan adept forces that had been hiding around the towers began to strike, knocking down all magical machines that entered their range with powerful elementium combination attacks.
Even though every individual member of these adept forces had the might of a First Grade, they were still vastly inferior to an actual adept. However, when they were combined and equipped with magical equipment and weapons, they could unleash stunning and devastating attacks.
The Magical Archer Corps had three hundred members and was divided into six squads, each containing fifty members.
These members of the Archer Corps were all advanced apprentices of astounding physical size and Strength. In addition to the runic longbows and enchanted explosive arrows they had equipped, each squad could instantly engulf an area of the battlefield in a sea of flames with a single volley.
The might of an individual explosive arrow was mediocre, at a decent 140 points of power. That was approximately equal to an ordinary attack from a First Grade adept! However, when fifty explosive arrows exploded all at once, it could inflict damage of as much as 700 or 800 points of power.
That was already at the level of a Third Grade adept!
Even a peak Second Grade adept could be instantly killed if hit by such a violent attack, let alone opponents of First Grade and below.
Adept forces could unleash power far beyond their actual grade when in large groups, even on a dangerous battlefield like this one. Their existence was also a sort of compensation for the lack of high-grade adepts!
However, even though these adept forces might have offensive power rivaling that of high-grade adepts, they did not have the corresponding defensive power or abilities. The members of these adepts forces were as frail as glass. They were not likely to survive the bloody baptism that was a genuine high-grade war.
As they destroyed one magical machine after another with their destructive attacks, some enemy forces managed to slip past their attacks and reach them.
Violent magic energy fireballs, torrents of energy beams, blooming shrapnel flashing as bright as fireworks- the Magical Archer Corps’ members’ individual defenses were only at First Grade. These defenses were quickly worn out after a round of attacks from the enemy.
Without shields and force fields, the human body was as fragile as glass on this cruel battlefield.
One after another, members of the Magical Archer Corps began to collapse, howling in agony as they did so.
Once their numbers started dwindling, they would slowly become unable to wipe out the enemy from a distance until their doom finally arrived.
Adept forces like the Magical Archer Corps that had long-ranged abilities were sustaining losses at an acceptable rate. However, adept forces that were focused primarily on melee engagements were powerless before the horde of magical machines.
The PG-52’s were superior to them when it came to Strength, defense, and offensive power. Moreover, these were machines that did not fear death. None of the machines would stop firing because of their injuries. As long as their energy core continued to function, the sizzling sound of blasting energy beams would continue to sound, even if only their torso remained.
Magical machines shambling around with severed limbs or crawling around with their upper half could be seen everywhere on the battlefield, still firing their weapons with all their might.
The members of the adept forces were humans, after all. They could not perform the same as machines!
Apart from these adept apprentices who fought on the frontlines in organized armies, there were also foreign legions from other worlds. Frost giants, ice giants, giant earth elementals, beholders, two-headed rhinos, earth maulers, flying swamp dragons, otyughs…
These monstrous beasts would have been a blight upon any ordinary human world they were cast into.
Here, they were no more than cheap meat shields meant to delay the magical machine army’s march by even a minute longer.
The magical machine casualties were severe, but their results were more than evident!
Where the magical machines marched, all the monsters and adept forces in the way were crushed to minced meat. All the magical traps were detonated. Meanwhile, the goblin chariots that pressed forward under cover of the goblin machinist-sorcerers were clearing out the war towers in an organized fashion.
As the chariots bombarded the towers, the machinist-sorcerers would charge to the foot of a tower and hurl packets of explosives at its base. If they didn’t have time to retreat, some of the more berserk machinist-sorcerers would charge straight into the tower and detonate the explosives in their arms.
The war towers had been constructed in a very short time frame, after all. The material used to build their walls couldn’t endure such brutal explosions. After the repeated, suicidal charges of the goblins, the war towers finally collapsed, one by one.
Of course, the adepts inside these towers had no hope of surviving the barrage of bullets that would greet them when they emerged from the rubble.
Goblins. This inferior species that had once been the epitome of baseness had, for the first time, triggered anxiety and fear in the hearts of adepts.
Were these goblins not afraid of death!?
Unfortunately, the cruel reality of war left them no time to philosophize or think. Once the final war tower outside Stoneshard Valley had been razed, the battle escalated.
Now was the time for the core adepts of the clans to step onto the battlefield!
The Dener Clan’s Second and Third Grade adepts floated into the air above Stoneshard Valley. They were shrouded in magical protections of various colors and effects. Each of them appeared like a dazzling jewel from a distance, shining with colorful radiance.
Meanwhile, seven powerful adepts stood in front of these Second and Third Grade adepts. None of the seven had complicated magical shields or barriers around them. However, their powerful law powers constantly distorted the planar laws around them.
This effect caused their forms to appear blurry and distorted. Any low-grade adept that attempted to look upon them would feel their eyes sting.
They were seven Fourth Grades…seven Fourth Grades.
What a terrifying force- especially in the Central Lands, where all the clans were not united!
There was no need for fighting at all. Most adept clans would probably be scared out of their wits when they saw those seven intimidating figures.
Seven…those were seven Fourth Grade adepts! They were individuals that stood at the apex of this world!
They might all be rulers of their own lands in their own right in usual times. However, they had now gathered together for the same cause. And that which they opposed was……
Inside a Mothership that hovered above the very center of the Crimson Clan’s formation, Greem stood up with a smile on his face.
“Finally, it is our turn now! All members of the Crimson Clan, come with me and give them a show!”
Flames rose all around the room as Greem teleported himself and the hundred intermediate and high-grade clan members.
Flames flashed on the deck of the Mothership as numerous towering figures appeared.
All the Second Grade clan members remained on the deck, while the Third Grade members flew forth behind Greem and Mary. The Crimson Clan adepts stared down against the Dener Clan adepts from across the battlefield.
Naturally, standing at the forefront was the infamous Legendary Fire Adept Greem. He raised his staff, and a deafening dragon’s roar could be heard in the distance. A muscular dragon clad in bright blue scales cut through the skies and appeared below Greem.
Greem’s toned body sank down, landing on the back of Fourth Grade Thunder Dragon Arms. There, he stood unmoving as a stone pillar.
Bloody Queen Mary followed behind Greem, dressed in red armor. Mary’s crimson hair spread behind her shoulders, her scarlet eyes bright as rubies, her nose sharp and delicate, her lips red as fire, and her wings beating in the sky.
One had to admit that Mary’s beauty was incomparable throughout the Central Lands. At the very least, her looks were uncontested among the Fourth Grade adepts.
Unfortunately, Alice couldn’t show herself in this battle due to her unique status.
After all, her title as the leader of the Witches of Fate meant that she couldn’t do as she liked. Should she appear on the battlefield, the enemies would be able to pull more foreign reinforcements to their side with the excuse that the Northern Witches were launching an invasion.
It was three against seven, yet the Crimson Clan showed no fear. Instead, their auras soared and even seemingly suppressed the enemies’ auras.
In particular, when Mary lifted her hand and released the golem dragon from its talisman, the entire battlefield fell silent.
There was only the earthshaking thud of the golem dragon’s landing.
Bastards! They did bring that war machine with them!
Fabres of the seven Fourth Grade adepts couldn’t help but wince at the sight of it. Resentment and hatred bubbled deep in his eyes.
His reputation had been tarnished by his defeat at the hands of this monstrous war machine. That was why he could not suppress the fury in his heart when he saw this gigantic construct after a hundred years.
Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! Those goddamned mercantile Silver Union adepts! To think they even sold such a high-grade golem talisman; were they taking their own rules for nothing?
Almost all the high-grade adepts present started cursing in their own minds at the same time!
