Chapter 361: You call for help when you can't beat them, huh? |
The demon warlocks on the city wall were still casting spells.
Black-red light continuously plummeted from between their claws, exploding into corrosive flames upon impact.
Several Arcane Ancient Trees had their trunks gouged with holes, wooden fibers sizzling and emitting green smoke. This dense magical assault slowed the advance of the Treant Warband.
But now, the Goblin Rippers' barrels were already adjusted to the proper angle. The slime gunners responsible for aiming squinted their tiny eyes, their gel hands pressing against the runes.
The cannon bodies vibrated once, and a blue-white beam of light grazed past Fardoern's canopy, smashing into the battlements of the southern wall.
Stone fragments flew.
A second beam followed closely, then a third.
The demon warlocks and New Sun followers on the wall were pinned down, unable to lift their heads, terrified and huddled behind the battlements.
"Hurry, use the sacred relic!"
The leading follower raised the Holy Chalice.
Since the Forge Region campaign, these sacred relics, as sources of the New Sun's power, mostly shattered during that Sun Desecration Incident, leaving only a few broken chalices that could barely function.
The golden cup body was now covered in fine, dense cracks, as if something had burst it from the inside.
Each use diminished its remaining life.
This was also why these followers had been reluctant to deploy it.
But facing the formidable slime army, they had no choice but to raise the chalice high once more and begin chanting anew.
With each syllable they uttered, the cracks on the chalice widened.
A dark red light seeped from the golden surface, spreading along the cracks, pulsating like blood vessels.
The chanting grew louder and louder.
The chalice began emitting a sharp, high-pitched hum. The cracks rapidly expanded across its body, from the rim all the way to the base.
Before the chalice completely shattered, the sky darkened.
A black sun rose above the city wall, a curtain of shadow pouring forth from within.
It flowed down the wall like liquid obsidian, over the battlements, over the city gates, over demon corpses, swallowing everything into an absolute darkness.
The shadow advanced southward.
Snow on the frozen earth was covered by the shadow and instantly vanished. Withered grass, broken stones, scattered weapons... all disappeared into the dark. The shadow surged forward like a tide, rushing toward the Slime Legion's positions.
Western battlefield.
Karl had just seized two balrogs and frozen them into frost.
He looked up and saw the black sun rising in the south.
Chen Yu frowned.
That thing again.
During the previous Forge Region campaign, it had cost them many soldiers, and now this thing was descending upon the Slime Legion's heads.
Although Galma was dead, remnants of the Balrog Legion were still frantically counterattacking. He was tied up dealing with demon warlocks and couldn't break free.
These slimes would have to rely on themselves.
Karl turned back and punched an imp charging at him.
...
The shadow curtain had already swept past the Treant Warband's defensive line.
Fardoern's silver canopy emitted magical radiance, barely resisting the encroaching darkness, preventing the shadow from advancing further.
Chen Yu wasn't as worried as Karl.
This time was different from the Forge Region.
Back then, it was only him and Nilly with a few Shadow Royal Guards, like thieving rats, forced to avoid the shadows. But this time, the entire Holy War Crusade of the Great Slime Religion was here.
He issued an order through the Gel Network.
"Crusade, advance!"
Fardoern's canopy swayed within the shadows. The Ancient Tree Warband began moving to both sides.
The roots of the Arcane Ancient Trees pulled out from the frozen earth, bringing up large clumps of mud and stones, then settled back down.
They forcibly opened a passage through the shadow curtain, like two wooden doors being pushed apart.
Casimir walked out from the end of the passage.
This vampire bishop's face was piously holy, his pace unhurried, as if strolling through his own garden.
But honestly, such a sacred expression on a vampire with visible fangs was still somewhat peculiar.
Behind him followed Lya, Rem, and all the followers of the Holy War Crusade.
Among these followers were slime believers, humans, dwarves, demi-human believers, even former Sun followers.
But at this moment, race no longer mattered. Faith united them, giving them the courage to face the boundless darkness.
Casimir stopped walking.
He faced the black sun hanging above the city wall. The shadow had already reached his feet, mere inches from his boots.
He gazed at the New Sun followers on the wall, speaking words that also sounded like judgment.
"Dregs of the New Sun, what you did in Darkness City, the Slime God saw it, the Sun saw it, the demons saw it, and your own shadows saw it."
"You sacrificed the living to the darkness, desecrating slimes, desecrating the Sun, desecrating life."
"But this is not the New Sun. This is the corpse of the old white, dug out from its grave by you, draped in black robes, pretending it still lives."
The New Sun followers remained silent.
"Demons at least kill openly."
"You call slaughter redemption."
Lya took a step forward.
She stood beside Casimir, a full two heads shorter. Her hands lowered from her chest, palms facing upward, as if catching something invisible.
"In the name of the Slime God."
Her voice was soft.
"We will not forgive."
Even the usually timid Rem, perched on Lya's shoulder, was straining to emit Holy Light, making her stance clear.
"We will not forgive."
"Xirik does not die, the Holy War does not cease."
The followers chanted in unison, then clasped their hands in prayer.
There was no uniform prayer text, no fixed ritual.
Each person recited the prayer phrase they had learned, in their own language, their own voice, whispering their prayers.
All the voices mingled together, merging into a low, resonant hum.
Lya closed her eyes.
Holy Light surged from within her.
The light seemed to seep from beneath her skin, slow, gentle, like the first thawing stream of spring.
Milky white light spread outward from her center, penetrating Rem's gel, flowing over Casimir's robes, washing over the faces of every follower behind them.
Rem's body lit up completely, radiating dazzling Holy Light.
Led by Casimir, the followers raised their hands one after another, contributing their own share of light.
The light converged into beams.
From within Lya, from Rem's body, from the palms of every follower, it gathered toward the center, then erupted.
Under the illumination of the sacred light, the shadow actually began to slowly dissolve and retreat.
The shadow tried to envelop this light, but the light pierced through the shadow curtain. Like sunlight piercing morning mist, the shadow grew thin before the light, then melted away like frost.
The light fell upon the frozen earth.
Snow reflected scattered glimmers. Withered grass took on a warm golden-yellow hue in the light, like autumn wheat stalks.
An orc warrior on the western battlefield paused his actions.
He had just pulled his battle axe from an imp's skull, black blood still dripping down the blade. Light shone from the south, landing on the crisscrossing old scars on his shoulders.
He froze.
Not because the light was too bright, but because it was too warm.
Winters in the northern ice fields were long, seemingly endless. The wind blowing from the icy sea carried a chill that could freeze blood.
Orcs were accustomed to cold, even fond of it. Cold tightened muscles, sharpened reactions.
But this beam of light was different.
It wasn't cold, nor was it scalding.
The sensation on the skin was like burying one's face in freshly sunned animal hides, like the warmth from long ago, when he was small, and his mother wrapped him in her embrace.
Karl stood at the forefront of the orc formation.
He looked up toward the beam of light piercing through the shadows.
He suddenly realized the Slime Kingdom harbored other secrets.
But now wasn't the time to dwell on that. Karl didn't ponder further; the battlefield didn't allow for too much thought.
He clenched his fist again.
"Orcs—"
His voice was like thunder rolling over frozen earth.
"Tear them apart!"
The orc army let out a sky-shaking roar.
Beneath the city wall.
The New Sun followers stood in place, holding that chalice, still praying, trying to squeeze out every last drop of the chalice's power.
But then, everyone heard a crisp *crack*. The chalice exploded, shattering into fragments scattered across the ground.
The shadow came fast and left fast, completely dissipating under the Holy Light's radiance.
"Run!"
These shadow followers finally reacted. Facing the steadily advancing Slime Legion, they began to melt into the shadows, preparing to flee.
Suddenly, a follower who had just submerged into the shadows was kicked out.
"Thinking you can run after doing bad things? That's a pretty thought."
Nilly snorted, stepping out from the shadows.
"Want to run? Did you ask Auntie?"
That New Sun follower tried to get up, but a dagger stabbed into his back from behind, blood splattering.
Nilly cleanly pulled out the dagger, wiping the blade on the other's robe.
The surrounding shadows simultaneously erupted.
Assassins emerged from every patch of shadow on the city wall.
A demon warlock had just turned around when he was simultaneously pierced through the throat and chest by a punch dagger and a dagger. He didn't even have time to see his attacker's face.
The New Sun followers panicked completely.
"In the shadows—"
The words were cut off mid-sentence.
The Stone Descendant assassins who had scaled the wall began slaughtering the enemy.
"Gargoyle Legion, kill!"
Yano's gargoyle form landed on the city wall. Raising his sword, he rallied. Gargoyles hiding around the wall perimeter opened their eyes, roaring as they charged into the Royal Capital.
Simultaneously, cries came from beneath the clouds.
The Dragon Cavalry had arrived.
Snow eagles spread their wings, sweeping out from behind the battle lines. Sekashi and Semiaya led the charge.
Behind them, hundreds of Dragon Beast Poison Wasps took flight simultaneously. The swarm swept over the city wall, the whistling of tail stingers and screams intertwining.
They swiftly occupied the southern wall, raised the flag of the Slime Kingdom, and began encroaching upon the eastern and western walls.
Wherever they went, demons were scattering.
Horned demons threw down their greatswords. Imps trampled each other fleeing into the city. A few balrogs were still trying to organize a defensive line, but their roars were drowned out by the chaos of the routed troops.
The wall had completely fallen.
The demon legion below the wall was trapped in an encirclement.
Seeing this, the orcs' morale soared. Karl took a deep look at the slime army and shouted, "My warriors, charge!"
Amidst a chorus of wolf howls, the Wolf Cavalry darted out, maneuvering around the demon legion, completely surrounding them.
Although the demons were still stubbornly holding on, everyone knew their defeat was only a matter of time.
The slime army pushed the battle line all the way to the base of the wall in one go, breached the southern city gate, and a wave of abyssal aura tinged with the smell of sulfur spread outward.
Chen Yu felt no joy over the demon legion's rout, because he knew things weren't that simple.
His Divine Sense swept over the Royal Capital shrouded in abyssal aura, observing the indistinct Abyss fissure within.
The fissure was pulsating.
Like a heart, thump, thump.
With each surge, a mass of dark red substance would gush from the fissure, falling into the streets of the Royal Capital.
Those things wriggled upon landing, then stood up.
Demons.
Did Casaric still have a demon legion?
Top of the tallest tower in the Royal Capital.
Casaric stood within the tower's shadow.
Before him floated twelve golden fragments, slowly rotating in the air, connected by soul-stuff.
The shape of a ring had already appeared.
It wasn't complete yet, still missing some pieces, but its outline was clear enough to stir greed in any demon who saw it.
Morrigan's shadow clung to the tower wall, swaying uncertainly. He gazed at the pulsating Abyss fissure above the Royal Capital.
"This is your contingency plan?"
"Connecting the Abyss fissure to Azazel's nest."
Casaric chuckled.
"No demon can resist the temptation to leave the Abyss."
"Including that fool Azazel."
The fragments continued to rotate. Casaric's gaze rested on them, as if looking at a nearly finished piece of craftsmanship.
"There are many ways for demons to leave the Abyss. Soul coins, Mana Tides, special demonic powers."
His finger moved again.
"But for those trapped in the Bottomless Hell, those are all luxuries."
Bottomless Hell.
No demon knew how this prison came to be.
But demons imprisoned there, without external aid, could almost never escape, forced to endure endless torment and a hunger longer than the pain itself.
Casaric had connected the fissure there.
He opened a door, a door those imprisoned for hundreds, even thousands of years dreamed of crossing.
They wouldn't obey him, wouldn't follow any tactics, wouldn't cooperate with the Burning Legion.
They would only do one thing.
Eat.
Devour everything living before them. Slimes, orcs, humans, demons... no difference to them. Meat was meat.
Then, after they had eaten their fill, he would emerge to clean up the aftermath.
"Let's go."
Casaric turned around.
"Let's hope these orcs and slimes can entertain our brothers sufficiently..."
After Casaric left, only Morrigan's shadow remained atop the tower.
He didn't leave immediately. Instead, he cast his gaze toward the east.
His gaze seemed to pass through the scattering demons, through the burning walls, through the pervasive smoke and abyssal aura, landing on one person.
Lide.
To be precise, the shadow behind him.
He could sense his sister Morgana was there.
He understood clearly that the reason Casaric was willing to return the soul to this knight was to use Morgana to threaten him, eliminating any possibility of his betrayal.
Now, he could only rely on Casarick. Once he left the Royal Capital, his fate would be only one: to be fought over, snatched, and devoured clean by those greedy brothers and sisters.
But Casarick had underestimated him and misjudged the relationship among Shadow Scions.
It was true that Shadow Scions fought among themselves. It was their nature, just as a demon's nature was slaughter.
But they all belonged to one great consciousness.
Shadow Scions were its fragments, like a shattered mirror, each piece reflecting the same source.
Fragments might cut each other, but fragments would ultimately re-form the complete mirror.
