Chapter 746: The Horn Sounds! (Asking for Monthly Tickets)

"Form up! Turn and face the enemy! Turn and face the enemy—!"

"There is an ancient ruin to the southwest of the city!" Leyton barked. "The defensive magic arrays being repaired there might be of use! There are also plenty of old-world war machines!"

"It's better than what we have now!" he added after a brief pause.

"I have already requested reinforcements from the Empire!" declared Wilson, the Guardian Sword Saint of the Morning Light Empire. "Hold this ground, survive until the reinforcements arrive, and we still have hope!"

The remaining humans lured the Shadow Legion toward the Changlin Hills ancient ruins in the southwest, rallying their strength. Amidst a tempest of roars and bellows that shook the battlefield like dragons and tigers, the Shadow Legion clashed once more with the human army. Yet, save for a slight geographical advantage and a few outdated war engines, they possessed almost no leverage.

"Do not retreat!" King Leyton bellowed, hoisting his greatsword high. This nation was by no means mighty, yet today, facing an enemy that had sent great empires fleeing in terror, they knew they had no right to fall back.

He swept his gaze across the soldiers, whose hearts trembled and whose faces were masks of confusion and despair.

His own heart mirrored theirs, but at this moment, he could not afford to show a shred of weakness: "Behind us stand our families, our friends, and perhaps our beloveds. Think on this: if we retreat, what becomes of them?"

"Your prince, my finest son, has just fallen in battle. Today, I too may die, but I shall die standing upon the fortress walls of our Lianshan Principality's border defenses! Never shall I live crawling, fleeing like a coward!"

"First, Third, and Seventh Regiments of the Lianshan Principality, advance!"

Seeing the surrounding soldiers of the Morning Light Empire still hesitant, Wilson roared, "If we retreat today, then imagine tomorrow! When they march upon our nation's gates, when none but we remain to face them, will you still have somewhere to retreat?!"

"I cannot promise you will live, but you are needed now."

"Form up!"

The Saint-level experts of the neighboring kingdoms also raised their voices in resounding roars. High above, the Sky Knights deployed into a vast formation, slowly unfurling their wings like a giant eagle striking across the heavens.

On the ground, warriors raised their shields and pushed forward. As the barrier formation of the southwestern ancient ruins flared with a faint blue light that blanketed the sky, countless bursts of fire and frost erupted within the enemy ranks. They formed a line like a great steel dragon, raising a veritable Great Wall of steel within the city!

The mage corps slowly ascended into the sky from the rear.

"Meteor shower, five hundred yards ahead." Archmage Adolf squinted his cloudy eyes, gazing anxiously at the heavens.

The Shadow Legion crashed into the steel defensive line like a black torrent. The few remaining Saint-level experts fought desperately within the throng, surrounded by vast swarms of flying knights and monsters. The enemy's own Saint-level powerhouses refrained from striking for the moment, content to wear down their resolve and stamina.

The darkness in the sky shrouded the entire city, weighing heavily upon the hearts of all, like a colossal boulder pressing down until it was nearly impossible to breathe.

The withdrawal of the Holy Light Nation meant their country had been abandoned. Now, they could rely only on themselves to protect their land, their people, and their nation.

Life or death would be decided by the heavens.

...

At this time, Mr. Fang led the internet cafe rescue team northward, finally arriving at the source of the Shadow Legion's onslaught.

They saw a beastman lion warrior leaning against a shield nearly as tall as a man. Beside him, several beastman warriors supported their bodies with greatswords and war hammers. Even at the final moment of their lives, they refused to take a single step back.

They might have been insignificant, but they were the first line of defense built by the Beastman Kingdom, and indeed, by all living beings of this world.

A touch of warm holy light descended from the heavens, as if awakening him from a sweet dream.

By now, a vast number of beastmen had gathered around, alongside elves, dwarves, and humans.

The old Beastman King raised his weapon high: "Compatriots, the time for our counterattack has come!"

"Boss, say a few words." As they marched toward the direction where the Shadow Legion was heading south, a group of knights, elves, and beastmen crowded around Mr. Fang.

"Uh..." Mr. Fang felt a bit awkward. I am really not good at this...

He thought about it for a moment...

...

Reinforcements from the surrounding empires and kingdoms arrived one after another. Though new blood was continuously injected, the entire battlefield of the Lianshan Principality's border felt like a massive millstone, relentlessly grinding down their forces.

Gazing at the flocks of black giant birds circling in the sky and this cold-blooded legion that seemed completely oblivious to death, they had never felt a moment of despair as profound as this.

Even Adolf could not help but harbor the thought: *Can anyone truly defeat such a legion?*

Despair was like a raging fire, ignited by a single spark and spreading rapidly.

"Lord St. Duran," a priest reported in a low voice. "Sword Saint Cleus has successfully retreated with the Divine Mage Corps, but several nations still refuse to withdraw."

At the Summit of Nations, St. Duran remained perfectly composed, looking at the magical projection before him. "This time we did indeed underestimate them. As you have all seen, I gave them the chance to retreat, but they chose to forfeit it themselves. Now, let us discuss the establishment of a new defensive line. I believe we must all put forth a hundred percent of our strength to handle this crisis."

The elves and dwarves frowned, their expressions clearly displeased. A crowned dwarf stood up and said, "With all due respect, we believe that an alliance with those who abandon their allies requires further consideration."

"Those who achieve great things do not concern themselves with trifles, Your Majesty," St. Duran said, rising from his seat. "We are led by His Eminence St. Heinz, who hears the divine words, and we have Her Highness Isabella, the myth of the royal family whose strength surpasses everyone in the world today—the pinnacle of humanity's dreams."

Seated in the adjacent private box, a woman in a pale golden dress and a silver tiara, her eyes as bright as the stars, nodded slightly.

"A wise man submits to circumstances. I think we should cast aside those arrogant prejudices, otherwise..." St. Duran pointed to the magical projection, which showed the human army suffering countless casualties, leaving behind only a chorus of despairing wails.

"Ah—!" On the battlefield, a middle-aged man in golden armor roared. Blood had dyed his armor a reddish-gold. Around him, the ground was densely littered with corpses, both of the Shadow Legion and of humans.

The hand holding his sword trembled slightly, and the massive wound on his shoulder had numbed the entire half of his body.

He turned his head to look at Wilson, who was likewise covered in blood.

"Do not ask me why," Wilson said with a look of reminiscence. "You remember the Sword Saint of the Ximia family, right?"

He closed his eyes slightly. "That was my wife. She also died on this battlefield."

His sword was different from the others; it looked like a decorative blade used by nobles, delicate and exquisite. "I don't want to retreat anymore either... Haah—!"

He summoned his last ounce of strength and charged toward the massive shadow in the sky.

Immediately after, a spray of blood dyed the sky red.

"Overestimating your capabilities," muttered the demon-god-like figure seated high in the void, its gaze cold and indifferent.

"Humans are nothing more than insects crawling for survival beneath the feet of the gods," the tall, gaunt figure remarked.

...

"Do you intend to ally with them?" St. Duran sneered.

"..."

"Screech—!" With a piercing shriek, the Shadow Fiend Thrall flew over like a phantom.

Suddenly, everyone witnessed a scene that left them dumbfounded: where the Shadow Fiend Thrall flew, a bizarre blade light materialized out of thin air!

Where the blade light passed, it took a long moment before the corpse slowly split into two sections.

At the Summit of Nations, a sudden uproar broke out: "What happened?!"

Dimensional Slash!

The stream of data in Fang Qi's eyes slowly faded as he sheathed his blade. The crowd that had been waiting for the boss to speak watched as he finally opened his mouth. His gaze seemed to pierce through to that distant, unreachable blue planet.

"May..." Fang Qi opened his mouth and murmured silently. When facing despair, may our past youth and hot blood burn into your most solid shield of protection. "May... the Holy Light be with you."

"Oooh—!" With the deep blare of a horn, they rushed toward the central battlefield like a pack of wolves, roaring as they went.

.