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Refining the Heavens
B4, Chapter 55: The Horde Swarm

B4, Chapter 55: The Horde Swarm

The soil bridge hovered slightly above the soldiers on the wall walk. An oppressive pressure seemed to crush down upon the Frosthral defenders.

They could not tell what their enemies are up to by raising the structure, but it is the unknown that frightened them.

Many took an unwitting step backwards while the Barbarian Lords in command shouted fiercely at them.

But before they could rein in their soldiers, the end of the soil bridge burst apart. From it came a horrifying scene as if the gates of hell had opened. Strange creatures rushed out of the soil bridge and swarmed into the area. The space that was hard fought and won by the vanguards gave them enough room to climb onto the walls without knocking any allies over.

All of a sudden, the clash of battles was deafened by the cries and roars of terrible beasts.

The monster horde had finally arrived.

Most towns and cities are used to such raids and have countermeasures in place. The frequency of being attacked isn’t rare as creatures that are enlightened are no less intelligent than humans and they know the resources that human civilisations are sitting on.

There are many places where man may not tread, and the Endless Plains on the east which belongs to beasts are one of them.

Unfortunately, the Ku Kang Plateau never had a history of being overran by beasts. Their natural defences is more than enough to deter the usual horde, and this place – while territorially perfect – lacked the natural resources that attracts beasts.

The cries of death came first, before anyone could get a good look at the monstrosities that attacked them. And, then, they finally saw.

Horrendous blood-coloured bats flew out of the hole in the soil bridge like a great swarm.

The Deathsinger Bats.

They swooped in from all around, shrieking in the air. Any person that was hit by the sound became disorientated, and when prolonged under the effect: death. It didn’t matter that these external practitioners had honed their bodies into weapons, no one could improve the toughness of their brain. A single burst from one of the tiny blood capillaries in the head is enough to take down the toughest cultivator.

As they fly through the air, they accurately attacked the Frosthral defenders amidst Kairos’ army. Their shrieks are like sound beams that precisely struck their targets.

Then there were the crows. Beady red eyes and black winged. Their feathers fell from the skies covering the battleground. These creatures of nightmares had been seen as the symbol of death since ancient times. They are the messengers between this world and the next and any warrior worth their grain of salt knows that it’s bad luck to have crows follow them. And these ones are especially unnatural. They are the variant known as the Death Crow.

They are carrion birds that could smell the scent of death. Oftentimes, veterans would consider their very lives and the entire campaign forfeit should too many of these birds came with them.

Somehow, in this place there are as many crows as there are people. The birds from a single forest wouldn’t be enough. These few years, Aisa had been busy gathering pets. This is a gift she prepared for the Snowdrifts, and the enemy could hardly receive. Restrained from combat, the little dragon still wanted to protect the friends she found here, and thus she had been finding another way.

The crows attacked directly while the bats hovered above, but these flyers are not the cavalry.

The ones that tore the frontline defenders to pieces are ugly child-sized cave trolls with bone-plated bodies seated on top of armoured wolves. Each of those wolves had strange black patterns on their grey fur, so vivid they appeared having a life of their own.

Descendants of the guardian spirit of the forest, these creatures are imbued with exceedingly strong affinity to the Wood Element and could create armour that protect them from powerful attacks; an important factor, given that they were merely C ranked beasts four years ago. In addition, the divine artefact – Thunder God’s Ring – that had been largely unused by Kairos, had found another purpose these few years.

Just as the cave trolls had elemental fruits planted in their lair to nurture them, the creatures of black forest also needed something, and a divine class treasure is a perfect choice.

Moreover, the ancestor of the Grey Wolves, the forest spirit, is living inside the Thunder God’s Ring. With his guidance and the magical artefact’s power the past four years had been a time of great improvements for the Greys, and their race had gained invaluable improvements in their bloodlines to the point where they started transforming into greater forms.

With knife-like thorns on iron bark covering their weak spots and electricity dancing on their breath, the Fulgurspike Wolves are creatures never seen on Gaia before.

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When they ran into the defenders, the long barbs on their sides shredded their enemies, their fangs and claws tore through Ki Barriers and armour, and the Cave Trolls on their back attacked with crude hammers fashioned from their precious ores and rot magic.

Their combined bestial savageness drove back the guards that the White Emperor trusted and overran those that were slow. Finally, for the Snowdrifts at the southern walls, they have a fighting chance.

Still, the Frosthral camp had a million soldiers. Even if both the north and south are breached, they still displayed their superiority with numbers.

While the defenders at the south were losing ground at first, the tides of battle changed again as the battle reached the camp and entered the streets.

Archers stood on the roofs protected by pikemen and great sword wielders blocked the roads to welcome their foes. They were apt at making use of the wide space and limited retreating grounds to turn the place into a culling zone.

While wolves are highly intelligent pack hunters, they were disadvantaged in a war where sometimes there are no strategies, only onslaught. The monsters numbered only a hundred thousand, large for a horde but sorely outnumbered even with their human companions.

The forest creatures were dealt a heavy blow, many were sliced apart or riddled with holes and the rest retreated. But soon, they discovered that this isn’t like the forest they are used to. There are no lairs to return to, nor open plains for them to run.

Behind them are the two hundred thousand Snowdrifts soldiers that entered with them into the Ku Kang Camp.

All around them, the Frosthral defenders awaited with weapons held steady.

At this time, the generals were gathered at the middle. Many of them were badly wounded from spearheading the attack and had been forcefully extracted to this location by their adjutants.

Especially Alan, he had been thrown into the Crystal Valve carried by Luciette, and is now sitting in a tub of Helena’ medical solution.

Of all the original five Snowdrifts founder, he is the most frequent one who spent almost all of his Origin Energy and reach a point where his body could barely function.

As such, he is also the most experienced in knowing his limits.

For once, he had been completely serious in the fight and his result proved impressive. The death toll so far had only been a fifth of what it should’ve been because of him.

However, while his task is done, the situation outside of the pocket dimension is deteriorating quickly.

Scouts squeezed through the crowd to the commanders with one bad news after another.

Their forest friends had stopped their stampede and are running in circles in this wall of great swords, spears, and arrows that the enemy had arranged.

The barbarians of Snowdrifts made over a dozen attempts to break through the encirclement but all end in failure.

And now, an even more distressing news reached their ears.

The suicide squad of the Frosthrals, the War God Tattoo warriors, had finally probed a viable path towards their rear.

There are three main ways to handle a stratagem, first by speed to avoid and drain its energy, second by conquering the formation heart and stopping its function, and third by pure force – to face the stratagem head on and destroy it.

The barbarians used the latter method, foolishly piling up lives to overload the time accelerator by attacking blindly, until they managed to destroy enough runes in the area to cease its function. The cost was great as the time runes had to cover enough area for practitioners to take sixty seconds to run across.

It was a stretch of killing field longer than a kilometer.

Of course, the time acceleration wouldn’t work on normal practitioners, as losing five hours means nothing to them, but it’s also impossible to run through and then activate the War God Tattoo. A secret technique that could make them invincible – even for short periods – required tremendous preparations.

Fifty thousand War God Tattoo Warriors, only twenty thousand survived, but they are enough to drive the Snowdrifts into a corner.

Both Luciette and George had frowns on hearing the news. Despite the War God Tattoo only lasting an hour before reaping the user’s life, it wasn’t something they could survive against.

At least, they could force them into the traps laid out in the camp and wound them until they are no longer a threat.

The Silver Ghost, Gold Ghost, and the Hall Master were likewise grim.

Despite all their genius, there is no solution when they are like fish in a barrel.

Suddenly, the countless severed corpses of the wolves started moving again. The Frosthral barbarians watched in aghast as the strange patterns on their fur came alive becoming Red Pythons that slithered out. These snakes regathered the broken parts and sew the pieces together in gruesome sight and the wolves that should be dead had their hearts pumping in mere minutes, nearly frightening the defenders to death.

No, these creatures aren’t the same snakes four years ago. The Red Pythons would not have such an ability. They too had changed, like the Hellbringer Bats, Shadow Crows and Grey Wolves.

These are now Blood Pythons, and like their namesake, they are creatures formed almost entirely of blood.

Their organs, the skin, brains, and everything else, had been replaced by a special porous membrane that allows it to enter another animal’s body as a parasite, forming a symbiosis relationship.

Although the Blood Python will live off the life force of its host, if the host was wounded in anyway, the Blood Python can prevent death and execute high-speed regeneration.

Long ago, the Blood Pythons were thought to be a method to acquire near-immortality, with the exception of death by disease, poison, and age.

For cultivators that live on the edge, such creatures were like precious treasures. Countless experiments and trials were tested to acquire this. Unfortunately all who implanted Blood Pythons into themselves, eventually lost control of their Ki and fell into maddened states. The energies of beasts are too chaotic for cultivators that are used to refined energies.

The Blood Pythons went extinct in the process of the experimentations. When the researchers deemed them unusable for humans, they did not want to leave it for the beasts. After so many years the bloodline of Blood Pythons were thought to be completely lost until it reappeared on this battlefield.

And there were so many!

With the reemergence of the wolves that should be dead, and without a way to retreat, the beasts turned more savage than ever.

The Grey Wolves that once worshipped wisdom and peace had been fully become the fearsome apex predators, the Fulgurspike Wolves that could hunt even Calamity class monsters.

The battle here soon became a stalemate and in dismay, the White Emperor Reynold sounded the retreat.

There is only one place in the camp the defenders could still garrison: The next battlefield, the armoured bunker by the north gates.