Chapter 259: Legion and Citizen
The crimson curtain of the Crimson Purgatory dominated the sky. Gale City was
now bathed in an ominous, blood-red light.
Thanatos sat cross-legged upon the prairie, his violet-gold soulfire burning
with a steady, clinical rhythm. Lia stood behind him, her hands pressed against
her father's shoulder bones, acting as a living conduit for her own Od.
Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead. As a Tier 5 Peak, the quality of her
Mana was naturally inferior to that of a Tier 7 Sovereign. Serving as Thanatos's
secondary battery was a crushing physical and spiritual tax. Thanatos didn't
speak; he remained focused on his internal recovery, his eyes closed as he drew
from her essence. As a conqueror who had claimed a hundred worlds, he knew this
campaign was barely past its opening moves.
On the front lines, the million-strong Necrotic host launched a total assault.
No more probes. No more calculations.
An overwhelming sea of bleached bone surged toward Gale City like a grey tide.
Skeleton Infantry, Knights, Mages, and Archers moved as a single, mindless
front, lunging toward the flickering blue barrier of the city.
In the sky, a new volley of thousands of obsidian arrows rose. The numbers were
triple that of the first salvo. They blotted out the sun, trailing long plumes
of dark energy as they shrieked downward in a black deluge.
On the ground, tens of thousands of Skeleton Archmages raised their staves.
Fire, Frost, Acid, and Curses.
The disparate magics coalesced into a shimmering, multicolored cloud of death
that began to rain down upon the Imperial defenses. It was saturation bombing on
a Planar scale.
At the city gates, the Aegis Legion Centurion gripped his shield with iron
focus. The blue shield, under the crushing weight of the Crimson Boundary, had
transitioned from its original dome shape into a strained, jagged oval. The
surface was a network of micro-fractures. Every second, the air filled with the
sharp crick-crack of structural failure.
The Centurion felt his own Od reserves hitting the redline. Behind him, his
thousands of Aegis Giants were similarly straining, their frames vibrating with
the effort of holding the line.
It wasn't enough.
The arrows arrived.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
A series of thunderous concussions rippled across the shield. The blue light
flared and sputtered, the cracks widening visibly. Then came the magical storm.
The dome groaned under the weight of ten thousand overlapping spells.
The Centurion's soulfire pulsed with a frantic beat. He knew the structural
math. They had an hour left. Maybe less.
Just then, a rhythmic thrum of footsteps echoed from inside the city.
The Centurion turned his skull.
Thousands of citizens were pouring out from the streets. At the front were the
beastkin who had marched out of the shelters—Orcs, Werewolves, and Bear-men.
They gripped whatever steel they could find: Imperial longswords, blacksmith's
hammers, or simple iron pikes. Their eyes were hard and fixed.
Behind them came the clergy of the Evernight Cathedral. Priests and Sisters in
their formal robes, clutching their holy texts and chanting in low, resonant
tones.
And behind them came the common populace. Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Dark Elves,
and even a few Succubi. They were hauling crates. Box after box of Emerald's
Respite, Od-stabilizing potions, and spare armaments. They had cleared out the
Cathedral's dispensaries, the Merchant Guild warehouses, and even their own
private pantries. Anything with tactical value had been scavenged.
The Centurion froze. He couldn't parse the variable. Why are the 'pests' coming
to the front? Do they not understand the scale of the annihilation waiting
outside?
Just then, a calm, authoritative voice rang out over the clamor.
"[Divine Rite: Mana Transfer]!"
It was the Orc Father of the local Cathedral. In perfect synchronization, dozens
of Priests and Sisters raised their hands, aiming their focus directly at the
Aegis Giants.
Pale golden light erupted from their palms, manifesting as shimmering ribbons of
energy that bridged the gap toward the soldiers. This was a support-attribute
Divine Spell, allowing a caster to directly deposit their own Od into another's
well.
The Centurion felt a sudden, warm flood of energy hit his core. His nearly empty
reserves began to refill at a staggering rate. Not just him—every Aegis Giant on
the line felt the sudden surge of life-force.
The sapphire-blue shield stabilized. The spreading cracks halted their progress.
But it was a stay of execution, not a victory. The bombardment from the Necrotic
Realm was still intensifying. The Od-transfer from the clergy could slow the
collapse, but it couldn't repel the storm.
Then, the commoners moved.
"Open the crates! Distribute the vials!" a human merchant shouted, directing a
group of porters. They began placing open bottles of healing and
Od-replenishment medicine at the feet of the Aegis Giants. "Armor for the
vanguard! If you can hold a blade, take one!"
The scene was chaotic, yet efficient. Soon, every Aegis Giant was surrounded by
a mountain of logistics.
Citizens with Tier 2 potential or higher began arming themselves. Orcs seized
battle-axes; Elves unslung longbows; Dwarves manned the catapults built into the
walls. They said nothing as they climbed the battlements to stand beside the
Bone Withers.
"RELEASE!" an Elven tracker commanded.
Volleys of arrows shot from the walls, piercing the blue shield and arcing out
over the bone-sea. Individually, they were weak, but they acted as an alchemical
"anti-air" defense, detonating the incoming black arrows before they could
strike the dome.
"CATAPULTS! FIRE!"
The Dwarves launched massive stone projectiles, shattering clusters of enemy
thralls.
"ARCANE VOLLEY!"
Elven mages, despite their lower tier, joined their staves together to launch
unified fireballs and wind-blades. They aimed to intercept the multicoloured
cloud of death, detonating the enemy spells mid-air and bleeding the pressure
off the Aegis shield.
"WAAAAAH!"
A group of Orc warriors roared as they charged through the city gates. They
didn't lunge into the enemy ranks; instead, they patrolled the outer "skirt" of
the blue shield, hacking down any low-tier skeletons that tried to get close
enough to hack at the barrier's foundations.
The Aegis Shield had a unique property: it blocked all incoming force but
allowed all outgoing force to pass through unhindered. This was the defining
trait of the [Immovable Fortress].
The citizens were weaponizing that property.
They couldn't stop the million-man army in the distance, but they could
intercept the projectiles. They could disrupt the enemy's casting rhythm. They
could clear the perimeter.
Every minor action was a reduction in the tax on the Aegis Legion.
The Centurion watched the display, his soulfire burning with a heat that defied
his undeath.
"ALL LEGIONS: HOLD THE LINE!"
His voice surged through the Soul Link.
"OUR MISSION REMAINS: THE FINAL DEFENSE!" "EVEN IF WE BURN EVERY SPARK WE
POSSESS, THE EVERNIGHT SHALL PERSIST!"
Thousands of Aegis Giants roared back, their shields striking the earth in a
single, earth-shaking rhythm.
"AS COMMANDED!"
☆☆☆
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