Volume 2 chapter 77
After a month of preparation, the Alliance launched a massive coordinated offensive. The Eastern Army Group feinted, while the Southern Army Group launched probing attacks.
But the Western Army Group...
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!
The earth trembled rhythmically.
A colossus, standing dozens of meters tall and shaped like a monstrous boar, moved its four legs—each as thick as an ancient oak tree. Forged from refined steel, it reflected a cold, terrifying glint under the sunlight. Its body was bristling with large tubes, and it marched slowly, surrounded by a sea of soldiers.
Around it, dozens of similar War Behemoths advanced slowly toward Picard's City.
On the flank, the Dwarven war machines emerged. These were steel chariots, over ten meters tall. Unlike the Theban monstrosities covered in tubes, these retained traditional firing ports.
However, they fired no ordinary arrows. They were loaded with Alchemy Bolts five meters long. In the Dark Age, these were known as Dragon Hunter Arrows.
Since the dawn of the Glorious Era and their liberation from the demons, generations of Dwarven master craftsmen had improved these weapons. By five thousand years ago, Dragon Hunter Arrows came in various models: Reinforced Armor-Piercing, Mass Trauma, and Siege Explosive.
To make the massive launch mechanisms mobile, the Dwarves imitated human War Behemoths and built these steel chariots to carry them.
However, three thousand years ago, with the invention of the Charge Formation, these chariots and Behemoths were relegated to the second line.
Their clumsy bodies were ill-suited for a battlefield that increasingly emphasized speed and offense. The agility and power of the Charge Formation pushed them into defensive roles in fortresses.
Compared to a Charge Formation that could sprint for a day and night at dozens of kilometers per hour, rest briefly, and then charge at 120 km/h to crush the enemy, these machines—with a top speed of 30-40 km/h—were like crawling turtles.
Moreover, starting them was a slow, agonizing process. It required at least one Seventh-Rank Magister at the core and several Grand Mages to inject mana, activating the runes part by part in a strict sequence. One mistake, and the machine wouldn't move.
But now, facing the entrenched Demon defense, the Alliance remembered these giants after the Charge Formations failed repeatedly.
Historically, these War Behemoths were born to preserve the combat power of lower-ranked soldiers on battlefields dominated by Ninth-Rank and Saint-Rank combatants, preventing them from dying from mere shockwaves.
To counter High-Rank enemies, they were equipped with Magitech Cannons. Powered by a Seventh-Rank Magister and amplified by internal runes, they could fire powerful Mana Rays capable of injuring even a Ninth-Ranker!
Each Behemoth carried a dozen Magitech Cannons. A focused volley could kill a Ninth-Ranker—but only within a range of 10 kilometers. Beyond that, the power decayed rapidly; at 20 kilometers, it could merely injure a Seventh-Ranker.
Crucially, these design features were perfectly suited for the current war against the Demons, who had reverted to a static, fortress-based warfare style!
The super-heavy defense of the War Behemoths could withstand Demon Fortress Cannons. The firepower of the Mana Rays within 10 kilometers was comparable to heavy artillery, but more importantly—their Rate of Fire was far superior!
As long as the Magister at the core had mana, the Mana Rays could fire continuously. This was far better than a Demon cannon that took two or three minutes to reload!
Suddenly, a black curtain appeared over the Alliance forces—the Demon Air Force had arrived!
WOOOooo...
Fighters laden with rockets dove toward the Alliance.
The Alliance responded by deploying their Ninth-Rank Knights!
Three Ninth-Rank Knights rocketed into the sky, positioning themselves to block the approach. They unleashed their Authorities.
"Authority: Flame Storm!"
"Authority: Frozen Firmament!"
"Authority: Corrosive Rain!"
The fighters rushed in defenselessly. They were melted by flames, frozen into ice sculptures, or dissolved by acid rain...
In moments, dozens of fighters turned to ash or fell from the sky. The most horrific fate befell those caught in the dark green rain. Pilots and machines dissolved together, wailing in agony until they turned into puddles of thick liquid mid-air.
Seeing this, the remaining fighters didn't flee. Instead, they swarmed forward, attempting to distract the knights and open a path for the Bomber Wing.
But it was like a mantis trying to stop a chariot. The three Ninth-Rank Knights cruised at supersonic speeds, leaving no openings.
"No! We have to lure these three away!!" A fighter pilot shouted over the radio.
"Impossible! They are too fast! We can't keep up!" Another pilot roared.
"Damn it! He sees me! Help—" The distress call was cut short, turning into a firework in the sky.
"Ahhh... My hand! My face! Ah..." Pilots screamed in the Corrosive Rain before falling silent forever.
"If I die, I'm taking you with me!"
Some pilots, realizing escape was impossible, aimed their fighters at the War Behemoths below and engaged full afterburners. But halfway through the dive, they were caught by the freezing aura, twisted by the extreme cold, and disintegrated in mid-air.
The Bomber Wing witnessed the massacre of their escorts. But there was no time for grief. They throttled up to full speed, charging toward the Alliance.
"Comrades! The fighter brothers couldn't clear the sky for us. We are going in without escort! Do you have the guts?!"
"YES!!!"
"Then drop altitude! Show these humans our power!!"
The bomber group rapidly descended. To ensure they hit the War Behemoths, they dropped to a suicidal altitude of 3,000 meters.
Hundreds of bombers formed a tight formation, charging with indomitable momentum.
But the Alliance War Behemoths did not stop. They simply angled their tubes toward the sky.
"Mana Charge! Charging complete!"
"Runes ready!"
"FIRE!!"
PEW-PEW-PEW...
Beams of white light erupted from the alchemical cannons, slicing through the sky instantly.
BOOM!
The bombers had no defense. The moment a beam touched them, they exploded. There was no chance to parachute.
The pure white beams swept across the sky like scythes harvesting wheat. The massive bomber formation popped like bubbles, blooming into giant fireworks one after another.
"Brothers! Fight them to the end!!"
One bomber lost a wing to a beam. It spun out of control, but the pilot fought the stick, maintaining the downward momentum.
He forced a strategic bomber, never designed for diving, into a Suicide Dive Bomber!
BOOM!!
Carrying a full payload of heavy bombs, the aircraft crashed directly in front of the Alliance formation. A massive explosion swallowed an area of hundreds of meters. The shockwave sent people flying two kilometers away.
But most bombers weren't so "lucky." They couldn't even complete a suicide run before being disintegrated in the air.
The brutal slaughter continued. Every second, warplanes fell, broke apart, or exploded.
Only a handful of highly skilled pilots managed to crash their burning wrecks into the Alliance lines. Escape was impossible under the combined strikes of Ninth-Rank Knights and Magitech Cannons. Even dragging an enemy down to hell required a mix of extreme skill and luck.
After a long while, the sky over the Alliance was clear.
The Knights watched the last bomber disintegrate, their faces filled with fanatical zeal.
"All units, Advance! For Thebes!!"
The commanding Ninth-Rank Knight shouted, pointing his sword toward Picard's City!
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