Chapter 227
Chapter 227. Retaliation
Beneath the walls of the Land of Resilience, the purple mist formed from the arcane spores had finally been compressed into several thin ribbons of smoke. Sunlight pierced the clouds and fell upon the scorched wreckage strewn across the ground, giving it an eerie silver sheen.
The surviving soldiers cleared the battlefield in silence. Bloodstains and purple filth mingled across their armor, carrying an indescribable heaviness.
Inside the council hall, however, the atmosphere was like a powder keg that had been set alight.
More than forty legion commanders stood around the center of the hall, their gazes cutting like blades into the man dressed in a white experimental robe.
Designation 734.
The badge on his chest glinted coldly. There was not the slightest trace of guilt on his face. Instead, he wore an excitement that bordered on fanaticism.
“An explanation?”
734 pushed the goggles on the bridge of his nose. His voice was terrifyingly steady.
“What do I need to explain? The orcs’ million-strong army lost more than half its strength and is now reduced to only six hundred thousand broken remnants, while we lost only twenty or so noble legions.”
He spread his hands, his tone carrying an arrogance that brooked no doubt.
“Is that not a victory? You should be looking at me as a meritorious hero, not with suspicion and disgust.”
“A meritorious hero?”
A legion commander in silver armor slammed his hand onto the table, shattering the cups and dishes upon it.
“Among those two hundred thousand men were three of my personal guard knight orders. They were warriors, not materials for your experiments. The arcane spores even broke through our own defensive line. You still dare call this a victory?”
“War always demands a price.”
734 tilted his head slightly. There was no warmth in his eyes.
“The sacrifice of the Experimental Legion brought about the collapse of the orcs’ main force. That was the most efficient tactic.”
“My father, that great military scholar, would certainly be proud of us. The ‘absolute suppression’ he pursued throughout his life was finally achieved today.”
His words were like a venomous thorn, stabbing until the faces of everyone present turned ashen.
No one denied the “results” of this battle. The orcs had indeed suffered a grievous blow, and for a short time, they no longer had the strength to attack the city.
But the price had been the lives of two hundred thousand soldiers, the purple mist zone that was still radiating danger even now, and the terror that lingered in the soldiers’ eyes.
“Do you know that the spores have already mutated?”
Xilan’s voice came from the doorway. The bloodstains on his battle robe had not yet dried, and his gaze was as heavy as iron.
“Three cases of infection appeared in the civilian district inside the walls. They were controlled in time, but no one can guarantee that it will not spread again.”
734 turned around. When he faced Xilan, a barely perceptible fluctuation passed through his eyes, but he soon regained his calm.
“The mutation is controllable. We have already gathered enough records. Next time, we will be able to precisely control the spores’ range of spread.”
“Next time?”
Xilan stepped forward and clenched his fists.
“You still want there to be a next time?”
734 did not answer. He merely raised his hand and pressed it against the badge on his chest. A line of tiny words was carved there:
For Father, I offer everything.
Sunlight fell through the window lattice onto his face, leaving one half bright and the other half dark. It looked exactly like the so-called “victory” he spoke of. Beneath its glorious surface lay a foundation built from countless bones.
The council hall fell into deathly silence. Only the clinking sounds of soldiers clearing the battlefield drifted in from outside the window.
The legion commanders looked at 734’s utterly impassive face and suddenly felt that, compared to the orcs outside the city, this “meritorious hero” standing among them was perhaps far more chilling.
At that moment, outside the walls, the surviving orc elites were kneeling on the ground, releasing low, sorrowful howls toward the sky.
There was no longer any madness in their eyes. Only fear of that purple mist remained, along with a rage close to despair.
This battle, which 734 called a “victory,” had ultimately planted an even more dangerous seed in everyone’s heart.
Inside the orcs’ main tent, the leaders of several great clans each took out communication crystals and sent requests for aid to the Northern Continent across the Sea of Despair, asking for the single-use artifact guarded by the clans: the “Blooming Rose.”
It was a bomb of immense power. Once it exploded, the Land of Resilience would be razed directly to the ground.
It had been forged by the Goblin Race and represented the very essence of goblin craft. Even now, only twelve had ever been made.
After the Seven Great Clans learned of the casualties, they cursed furiously. Without the slightest hesitation, they agreed at once, and seven Blooming Roses were brought to the Eastern Continent by seven orc Domain powerhouses.
Inside the orcs’ main tent, the Blackrock Chieftain’s hand trembled slightly as he gripped the communication crystal. From within the crystal came the hoarse voice of the guardian clans of the Northern Continent.
“Seven ‘Blooming Roses’ are being escorted by seven Domain powerhouses. By now, they should have... arrived.”
Before the voice finished speaking, the sky above the Land of Resilience suddenly darkened.
Seven figures wrapped in black Dou Qi tore through the clouds. They were the top combatants of the orcs’ Seven Great Clans, and at that moment, each of them held a fist-sized sphere in his hand.
The bodies of the spheres were covered in spiral golden lines. They looked like metal roses on the verge of blooming, yet they released an aura of destruction that seemed able to freeze the very air.
“It is the Blooming Rose.”
On the battlements, an elderly Sky Mage screamed in panic, his face turning as pale as paper in an instant. Legends of this ultimate goblin weapon had circulated through the army camps for decades.
It was a bomb compressed from a hundred tons of Magic Crystals. Once detonated, everything within ten li in every direction would become barren scorched earth, and even space itself would be shattered.
Dragon Mother Daenerys was the first to rush into the sky. Golden dragon wings formed from magic power spread beneath the sunlight, andDraconic Spell surged like a tide toward the seven spheres.
“Stop them!”
Her roar shook the clouds until they churned. The Domain Dragons beside her breathed dragonfire at the same time, trying to detonate those bombs in midair.
Xilan and the other Domain powerhouses followed closely behind. Dou Qi and magic intertwined into a vast protective net, descending toward the seven orc Domain powerhouses.
But everything happened too quickly.
There was no expression on the faces of the orc powerhouses, as though they were merely throwing away something insignificant.
The hands holding the “roses” abruptly opened. Seven streaks of golden light crossed the sky, carrying a piercing whistle as they plummeted straight toward the heart of the Land of Resilience.
“No...”
Daenerys’s dragonfire struck one “rose,” but it was deflected by the golden lines on the sphere. Those golden lines could actually absorb magical power.
Xilan’s Dou Qi slash cleaved toward another one, yet it was dissolved just as silently.
The Domain powerhouses intercepted them with all their strength, but they could only watch helplessly as four “roses” broke through the defensive line and fell toward the city.
“BOOM...”
When the first explosion sounded, the entire world seemed to freeze.
A blinding white light devoured half the sky. Immediately after came a deafening roar. The shockwave was like an invisible giant hand, directly flinging the soldiers on the city walls into the air.
The second, the third, the fourth...
The consecutive explosions made the earth tremble violently. The walls of the Land of Resilience were like paper, collapsing inch by inch within the white light. Bricks, stones, flesh, and weapon fragments were hurled high into the sky, then fell like a torrential rain.
The Dragon Mother’s giant dragon was overturned by the blast wave. Daenerys slammed into a broken wall, and golden blood sprayed from the corner of her mouth.
Xilan was pinned beneath the ruins by the shockwave. A continuous ringing filled his ears, and everything before his eyes was a field of deathly white. He wanted to climb up, only to discover that he could no longer feel his legs.
Within the brilliant light of the explosions, the seven orc Domain powerhouses turned away. Their figures were outlined in black by the white radiance. Without the slightest lingering attachment, they flew toward the Northern Continent.
When the white light gradually faded, the Land of Resilience had already become a vast crater.
The once towering walls had vanished. In their place was scorched earth wreathed in black smoke. Here and there, flames that had yet to die out flickered amid the ruins, like ghostly fires from hell.
Dragon Mother Daenerys propped herself up with the Dragon Sword and looked at that expanse of charred earth. Her silver-white hair had been blackened by smoke, and despair appeared in her eyes for the first time.
The city had fallen.
Those legions that had once fought through blood, those soldiers who had sacrificed themselves to protect their land, and the two hundred thousand lives devoured by the arcane spores...
In the end, none of them had been able to stop this destruction.
From the distant orc encampment came faint cheers, but they soon fell silent.
Perhaps even they themselves had never imagined that the “Blooming Rose” would bring such complete devastation.
On the scorched earth, Xilan’s fingers moved slightly. He looked at the gray sky as the taste of blood surged up his throat.
The war was not yet over.
But the Land of Resilience was already dead.