This was the battle Solomon had dreamed of—his original vision for founding the Eternal City. The only regret was that he didn't have time to watch this small-scale war unfold.
He had always longed to use human science and ingenuity to strike back at extradimensional entities, rather than relying on the dangerous arts of magic like Kamar-Taj, which brought risks before they even began resisting outer threats. This was precisely why the standards for selecting Arcanist apprentices were so unforgiving—to prevent recruits from one day turning on humanity. Even though Kamar-Taj boasted a sizable population of magi by Earth's standards, it was still nowhere near enough to confront the scale of the outer dimensional threat.
Every blast from a bomb-gun on Mount Fimbulwinter, every missile launch, every barrage from the battleships was the result of years of effort. Solomon wanted to prove—not just to Kamar-Taj, not just to the Sorcerer Supreme, but to himself—that extradimensional magic was not indispensable to humanity. Kamar-Taj was merely a cradle for the human race; one day, it would willingly conclude its mission, and humanity would stand proudly atop the galaxy.
A great number of angels had congregated at the snowy summit of Mount Fimbulwinter, and the Eternal City had only managed to push its front lines up to mid-slope.
The higher angels, even the Four Elemental Virtue Angels, had tried to push back the assault—but under the relentless bombardment of the two sky battleships, even they had to act with caution. The intelligence division established a wide array of anti-air defenses on the slopes—manned by regular human soldiers clad in deep black bulletproof armor—ranging from flak cannons and missile towers to Wakandan laser defense turrets. From the Lost City, Sophia led her kin and recruited soldiers in trench digging and fortification building. These troops wore lightweight exoskeleton-powered armor and carried heavy bomb-guns, plasma rifles, and other experimental Wakandan-made weaponry.
Heavy fire teams and strike squads from the Sisterhood formed mobile defensive lines, weaving between fortifications to eliminate any angels that broke through the fire net or tried to teleport in to destroy the anti-air batteries. Other Sisterhood units coordinated with the assault transports, advancing toward the mountain peak. However, their offensive wasn't overly aggressive—they willingly abandoned several mountain passes, retreating back to the trenches before angelic counterattacks, letting the anti-air defenses do the killing. This wasn't due to a lack of will for revenge—it was because their mission, aside from thinning out low and mid-tier angels, was to cover the infiltration units tasked with penetrating the summit and gathering intelligence for the command.
Even now, the summit of Mount Fimbulwinter remained shrouded in mystery. Though the assault transports were equipped with bunker-buster bombs, they couldn't be used lightly out of fear of collapsing the mountain and causing casualties among their own. The intelligence division had to work in tandem with the assassination department's infiltrators to map the mountain's geological structure and summit conditions. Until that was done, the front remained in a deadlock—neither the angels nor the Eternal City dared make another move.
Even in Noahdun, young Master Wang could feel the trembling earth beneath his feet. The town, shrouded in darkness, was continuously lit up by the weapons fire in the distance, as though daylight had returned. This was just the prelude—the skirmishes before the main event. Neither the sky battleships nor the sky-carrier had unleashed their full force yet. The Eternal City hadn't deployed all of its war assets either.
The young magi, especially those arrogant enough to believe that mastering magic made them superior, were struck by a visceral fear—many of them, like Master Wang, were experiencing the terror of modern human warfare for the first time. The moment the Eternal City's massive tanks began rolling through the narrow streets of Noahdun, crushing historic houses and statues beneath their treads like paper, they were struck speechless.
Now, Master Wang finally understood why the Sorcerer Supreme had insisted that these fledgling rookies be deployed to this mission.
He was close to Solomon and a member of a prominent magi family, so he had access to more classified intel. For instance, he knew that a fully armed force stationed on Mars was already on standby. If the battle on Earth turned unfavorable, Mage Hamill would open a portal to Mars and summon the final reserve force. No one knew exactly what kind of tech Solomon had stashed away on the red planet—only that it was dangerous enough for the Sorcerer Supreme to personally oversee it, sealing it with high-level contracts and concealment magic. Wang sincerely hoped it wouldn't come to that. Anything powerful enough to force the Sorcerer Supreme to break his own taboos had to be terrifying beyond imagination.
Victoria Hand bit her lip, eyes fixed on the holographic command table.
Her intelligence division was still waiting for geological data from a recently acquired research institute. Personally, she preferred to use orbital weapons for reconnaissance on Mount Fimbulwinter—not idiotic tools like a "Rod from God," but genuine satellite-based firepower—or even deploy tactical nukes to level the entire mountain. No matter what evil was brewing at the summit, a single nuke would fix it.
But first, her Lord had to walk out of that mountain alive—for the troops still aboard the ships, especially the Honor Guard, nothing was more important than the Lord. If she gave a reckless order that endangered him, she might as well put her head on a spike—or be blown apart by a bomb or impaled on a halberd.
Even so, she had other tasks to complete.
"Report wind conditions," she said.
Upon receiving accurate wind data, the head of the intel division gave the order: "Prepare gas deployment. Instruct frontline troops to observe the gas's effects on extradimensional entities." As far as the Eternal City was concerned, international treaties banning biochemical weapons were just as meaningless as non-proliferation agreements on nukes. Anything that could kill beings not native to the real world was fair game. As for whether such weapons might cause irreversible damage to Noahdun—that question simply did not exist in Victoria Hand's mind.
Kill the enemy first. Everything else could wait.
Solomon sighed, his face behind the helmet full of concern. He looked around—there was no sign of Bayonetta or the boy. He had entered the Gate of Hell a moment too late, and the chaotic nature of planar teleportation had once again separated him from the witch. The environment here was brutal: arid, scorching, with massive blood-colored tornadoes swirling in the distance, tearing at stone and flinging grit through the air. The gravity was warped, affecting even the smallest rocks. Vile lower-plane creatures hid in every unseen crevice.
"Good evening, Rodin," he said, tapping the dent in his armor. "Here to offer a maintenance package?"
"I'm just here to finish a piece of work," the fallen angel craftsman said, tossing Solomon a cigar. It was laced with herbs, and the Arcanist gratefully accepted it.
"You're looking for Bayonetta, right?" Rodin added. "Don't worry, she already found the demon holding Jeanne's soul and went ahead."
"Did you see a boy? About this tall?" Solomon gestured to his thigh.
"Nope," Rodin replied, waving it off. "Bayonetta told me to wait here for you and point you in the right direction. I don't know why she thought you'd struggle to survive here—your dominion is plenty strong. If you hadn't shown up soon, I was gonna leave. Miss the timing, and the work's ruined forever."
"Take me," Solomon said. "I just hope Bayonetta doesn't go too hard."
Rodin grinned—a smile scary enough to make hundreds of children cry. "So do I."
(End of Chapter)
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