Chapter 157: Chapter 157 - Clash
The plan began to unfold with precision.
First, Lucien released his companions.
Korrak, Vyrran and their child Korvyn... alongside Byakko, Seiryu and Sparkles.
Each bore plates of enchanted armor, faintly glowing with runes that shielded them from the corruption of the miasma.
Their role was clear. Reconnaissance and control.
They would guard the flanks and ensure the scattered scouting legions did not return to reinforce the Obsidian Tower. They were bound to Lucien through will so any threat they encountered would echo instantly in his mind.
With low growls of assent, they leapt forward. They vanished into the distance like living blades loosed from his hand.
Then came the second phase.
Inside the Divine Energy Core, Lucien felt the pressure of power building like a tide about to break. Their sharpest spearpoint had begun their casting.
Midas, Augustus, Leo, Cielius, Edric, Maxim, Ellen... and even the slimes... Skittles, Oreo and Nyxis.
Their mana converged in a symphony of destruction. Threads of cosmic light, divine radiance and elemental fury wove together, forming spells vast enough to unmake armies. The place throbbed with their resonance like a storm caged only by discipline.
The slimes stood apart, unarmored. Steel would only hinder their strange bouncy forms. They needed none of it for corruption could not touch them. They were enigmas. No flesh, no blood, nothing the miasma could cling to.
As Lucien watched them pulse with power, he understood once more why the Primordials had tried to erase their kind. Slimes were incorruptible beings. Born of mystery and hated by eternity.
...
Lucien dashed to the front. He was clad in the Eclipse Gloves and the Mantle of the Infinite. His body blended into the landscape, veiled in cosmic magic.
Even a full kilometer from the monster horde, Lucien remained unseen. He moved with silence sharper than a blade until he reached the perfect distance.
Close enough that the spells would strike with full force. Far enough to remain untouchable.
He halted. The world seemed to hold its breath.
With a single thought, he summoned the casting group.
The storm was ready to break.
The spearpoint of the assault unleashed their might.
Reality convulsed.
The air ignited with unholy brilliance as divine hymns spilled into the world, harmonizing with roaring firestorms that turned the sky molten. Cosmic blades cleaved rifts in the atmosphere. They jagged cracks through which the void itself bled. Elemental fury descended like falling stars. Each impact was like a meteor that shattered the land.
The enemy had no chance to prepare.
BOOM.
The battlefield erupted. Earth heaved open in colossal fractures. Legions were swallowed whole.
The skies screamed as wyverns and vultures were torn apart by stormfire. The opening strike was annihilation incarnate. Hundreds of thousands of monsters vaporized in an instant and their formations scattered like leaves in a hurricane.
The silence that followed was not peace. It was the stunned, breathless moment before the surviving horde realized the slaughter had only just begun.
Lucien moved instantly.
"Now!" His voice thundered across the core.
The army of 200,000 appeared in a burst of light, summoned in disciplined formations.
The Synchronizer Drums thundered first. Their cadence rolled across the battlefield like the heartbeat of a divine being. It binded every soldier’s strike to a single rhythm.
No man swung alone. No spear thrust without answer. They were one body, one will, one war.
Then the Banner of the Untainted unfurled. It caught the foul winds of the place. Its light seared through the miasma and the army roared as one. Morale ignited like wildfire. They were no longer prey cowering before monsters. They were executioners who came to deliver judgment.
Even the monster vanguards faltered at the sight.
A horn bellowed. The Horn of the Maze-Breaker.
Its blast was not sound but cataclysm. It’s a roar that rattled marrow. It shattered illusions and broke the magic barriers shielding the enemy. Monsters clutched their heads, stunned. Their lines buckled before the charge had even begun.
Then...
The battle erupted.
The Spiritual Division formed into ritual circles. They are channeling ancient magic rituals that bent the battlefield itself.
The ground tilted. The air thickened. The land turned into a weapon.
Clara and her priesthood answered with radiant hymns. They raised shields of light and washed blessings over the soldiers.
Their chants were like a tide that turned fear into fury.
Upon Clara’s shoulders crouched the Life and Death Slimes. The twin enigmas balanced the fight with uncanny precision. One healed ruptured flesh, the other devoured enemy essence. The two heartbeats pulse in tandem with the army’s own.
From the rear, Elk and Seren unveiled their masterpiece. A line of enchanted ballistae.
Each spear of condensed mana streaked skyward like a falling star. The winged beasts shrieked as their wings were torn from the skies. The weapon rained monsters down in heaps of broken flesh.
At the vanguard strode Ronan. His blades curved into a crimson arc. He cut through monster leaders as though they were parchment. His strikes were too fast to follow and too brutal to endure.
Lucien himself was everywhere.
His Morphis shifted without pause. Weapon when it needed to kill. A shield when it needed to save.
He was no commander idly watching the war. He was in its veins. Each choice of his preserves lives. Each of his strikes breaks momentum.
His experience from the wars within the Mural World showed. He has a veteran’s instinct sharpened into perfect timing.
Lukas led the Lootwell forces at the very front. The soldiers were clad in the finest weapons and armor Lucien had CRAFTed. They fought like a wall of iron and fire. Their shields locked and their weapons rose as one.
Death itself could not pry them apart.
The allied forces held their own as well.
The Birdfolk dominated the skies, harrying stragglers and intercepting aerial waves.
The dwarves unveiled their greatest inventions. Their runed cannons and siege-breakers roared with runic fire. It turned the battlefield into a furnace.
The Beast Tribes tore through enemies with primal ferocity. Their instincts turned them into predators among prey.
And Leo...
Once unleashed, he became a force of nature. His claws carved trenches through the battlefield. His roar scattered monsters like dry leaves in a storm. Where he passed, lines broke, formations died and entire swathes of the horde were torn apart.
What had seemed unwinnable became one-sided. The enemy’s vast numbers crumbled under preparation, precision and overwhelming might.
Victory was within reach.
And then... the shift came.
From the depths of the Obsidian Tower, shadows slithered forth. The very air recoiled as a dreadful presence seeped across the battlefield.
Figures emerged from the dark. Their shapes were half-familiar yet twisted beyond recognition.
The Golddusts.
At their forefront, Malrik rose into the air.
Before, he had resembled a withered corpse like a husk clinging stubbornly to life. Now, that husk had been reborn in grotesque mockery. His flesh was stretched tight over sinew turned a sickly green.
His eyes burned with an unnatural hunger. He was neither man nor goblin but a blasphemy of both.
The transformation was complete.
And his presence.... It now radiated suffocating power. It swelled past Tier 9. It pressed against the battlefield like the shadow of a mountain ready to collapse.
Lucien blinked once.
"What the fuck? You can transition into a goblin now? What would even be your pronouns?"
But no humor could mask the truth.
Beside him was Magnus. He was now a Tier 9 but he was also brimming with corruption. Arlo Coalheart too. He was twisted into goblin form. And there, the most chilling of all. Ashreth.
The traitor now wore the body of a goblin child. But he too radiated the strength of something beyond Tier 9. But... Ashreth seemed to have possessed the body instead of transforming.
Even the Golddust Associates had all transformed. They were stronger and faster.
All of them looked like monsters yet retaining their human minds.
The battlefield froze for a heartbeat. Soldiers gulped, realizing what stood before them.
But a few figures did not falter...
Edric, Maxim and Ellen stepped forward. They raised their weapons, intercepting Malrik and Magnus.
Cielius advanced too with his eyes burning. Ashreth was his goal. He would avenge Cienna and Luke, no matter the cost.
Sebas strode forth as well. Lucien’s slimes darted around him like hungry comets. They were ready to consume the Golddust Associates.
And then... a ripple.
Arlo Coalheart teleported directly in front of Lucien.
"Ha! You were so arrogant before. Let’s see what you’ve got now." Arlo said.
Lucien looked at him as if he’d just grown a second head.
"Courting death much? You’re not even my fucking match."
Before Arlo could blink, Lucien’s hand moved.
SLAP.
Arlo’s head spun through the air with his eyes frozen wide in shock. His lips trembled but no sound came.
The last thought consumed him. Raw and bitter...
’What the fuckery is this? I just transitioned... and now...’
Darkness swallowed him before his thought could finish.
Lucien barely paused. His gaze swept the battlefield.
His trusted allies fought with unyielding ferocity. Their strength was magnified by the gifts he had prepared.
Gargoyle rings gleamed on their fingers. He also gave them vials of Gargoyle Lord blood. They were trump cards. With them, his companions would not fall so easily no matter how dire the clash.
Edric and the others pressed against the Golddusts, holding the corrupted traitors at bay. Cielius carved his vengeance against Ashreth, refusing to relent. The rest of the betrayers fought like demons but they were contained.
Lucien turned his eyes to the Obsidian Tower.
A chill stirred in his chest. Something vast... Something beyond the Golddusts waited inside.
He clenched his fist. There could be no more hesitation.
And with that, Lucien strode toward the tower’s gates.