Chapter 365: Falling from the sky
Grand Marshal Anglius struggled to steady his breath as he gazed upon the sole passage of the Molted Range—the mountain range that once marked the border between the Asani Continent and the Monsoon Continent, now the primary battlefield between the Xaos Kingdom and the Leviathans.
Black blood was everywhere, so much of it that it had soaked the ground beneath him. Huge spikes littered the area, and mountains of Leviathan corpses were being consumed by flames, sending waves of smoke and ash into the sky. Yet the golden giant paid no heed to the gruesome scenery; he was too preoccupied, searching for a way out of their current predicament.
His eyes swept over the battlefield, and a solemn expression crept onto his face as he took in the state of the Golden Wave Legion and the Turkin soldiers. Overwhelming exhaustion was etched onto every face, and the reason was clear: the Leviathans.
The enemy had been attacking non-stop for months, but it wasn’t the overwhelming onslaught of two million creatures they had faced before—drones now made up the bulk of the Leviathan attacks. These drones weren’t particularly strong, and regular soldiers could handle them, but there were other challenges.
Thousands of drones appeared every few hours, crossing the narrow path. The incursions weren’t meant to overwhelm the defenders or breach Turkin territory. The Leviathans knew they couldn’t accomplish that with such limited numbers. Instead, they had a simpler, more insidious goal: draining the soldiers’ stamina.
The drones used tactics designed to maximize their impact while minimizing their losses. They attacked in irregular patterns—sometimes three times in a single day, other times waiting long enough for the soldiers to relax before launching a sudden assault. Each wave was timed to prevent the defenders from getting adequate rest. The drones avoided full engagement, using hit-and-run tactics that forced the soldiers to stay on constant alert.
Additionally, the drones used the terrain to their advantage. They retreated into narrow crevices or scaled the steep sides of the pass, making it difficult for the soldiers to pursue without overextending themselves. Sometimes, smaller groups would feign attacks on one flank, drawing forces away before a more significant strike elsewhere. The unpredictability of their movements kept the soldiers on edge, mentally and physically exhausting them.
While the soldiers did receive Origin Force for each kill, the Plane Will considered each drone so weak that the amount granted was negligible—too little to make any real difference, despite the thousands they had slain.
The continuous combat yielded minimal rewards, further sapping the defenders’ morale. Killing drones had become so routine that it began to feel inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, making their efforts seem futile.