Chapter 30.3: The Final Battle - Clash of Titans
Personal System Calendar: Year 0009, Days 1-28 Month XI: The Imperium
Imperial Calendar: Year 6854, 11th month, 1st to 28th Day
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Powers Beyond Imagination
Have you ever witnessed a mountain move or a tsunami rise from calm waters? That is how this battle could be described. The Guardian Beasts attacked with such force that each swing of their paws or slash of their claws created ripples of pressurized air that could be felt for hundreds of meters in every direction. The impact of their stomps shook the earth itself, and the sound of their roars and screeches burst through the sound waves in the air with such intensity that they shattered trees within their radius.
And this was merely from their regular attacks, unpowered by any magic whatsoever. This raw physical might was precisely why these beasts rarely fought with their peers. Such battles left everything else devastated in their wake. The more power you possessed, the more you feared what your opponent might unleash. Strength became a deterrent to strength. They cancelled each other out, which was why most forest conflicts occurred among lower-tier creatures.
But this time was different. Twenty-five of these catastrophically powerful beings clashed with each other across the vast lands and infinite clear blue skies of Centuury in a display of destructive force that the forest had never witnessed before.
In a sense, this was a fundamental mismatch. Twenty behemoths from Shadowfen against five Guardian Beasts from Lonelywoods, if you included Aetherwing in the equation. That meant each defender had to handle four opponents simultaneously. And these weren't the weaker boss-ranked beasts that commanded respect in their own right. These were the bosses of the bosses, the apex of their respective hierarchies.
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Aetherwing's Battle
High above the forest canopy, Aetherwing fought four aerial behemoths simultaneously. What saved him from being immediately overwhelmed was the fact that he had fought even stronger beasts during his time away from this forest over the past century. He had been merely a regular beast lord back then, not yet bonded to August through the Personal System that would eventually evolve him into something greater. The battles he had endured against the creatures that dominated the Great Caldera of Arkanus had been both ferocious and deadly, yet he had always emerged alive. Not unscathed, certainly. Sometimes barely alive. But alive nonetheless.
That crucible of combat had forged him into something far more dangerous than these ancient Shadowfen beasts who had spent generations ruling their territories without serious challenge. When Aetherwing had returned to Lonelywoods and made his home on the mountain cliffs near Maya Village.
Now he was evolved to his current Guardian Beast status, significantly more powerful than he had been even at his previous peak, and having never stopped fighting and training, he possessed advantages these ancient beasts had surrendered through complacency. While they had curled up in their nests and holes in the safety of their territories, growing fat and slow, Aetherwing had continued to sharpen his skills against worthy opponents.
But it wasn't easy. Although he held a slight advantage, he was still dealing with four powerful creatures at once. If they managed to rediscover their old fighting rhythms, the coordination they had once possessed in their prime, he would be in serious trouble. Sometimes sheer numbers could overwhelm even the most skilled combatant.
His four opponents were massive aerial predators: a corrupted wyvern whose shadow magic made it nearly invisible against the dark clouds, a three-headed thunder eagle whose very presence created localized storms, a colossal bat-like creature that generated sonic attacks capable of disorienting prey, and a serpentine sky-swimmer that moved through air as if it were water.
Aetherwing used his superior agility and combat experience to keep them from coordinating effectively. He struck at one, forcing it to defend, then immediately pivoted to attack another before the first could retaliate. He used the terrain of the sky itself, diving through clouds, using wind currents, forcing his opponents to interfere with each other's attacks.
The sky became a three-dimensional battlefield of incredible violence, wind, lightning and shadow magic crackling between combatants, sonic booms echoing across the forest as supersonic strikes were exchanged.
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The Four Forest Guardians Beasts
Below, on the ground, the four Guardian Beasts of Lonelywoods faced sixteen behemoths in combat that reshaped the very terrain. Each Guardian fought with desperate determination, knowing that if they fell, the forest would follow.
Osteo Tyranus "Rex," the Armored Tyrant also known as the Bone Tyrant, who ruled the Northern Region of Lonelywoods Forest. His domain covered 25,000 square kilometers of harsh highlands, rocky ravines, and ice-cold rivers. The treacherous terrain had created thirty-three distinct boss-ranked territories, more than the other regions due to the broken landscape forcing smaller, more defensible claims.
Rex was a massive predatory creature resembling an ancient tyrannosaur, but his most distinctive feature was his skeletal frame reinforced with bone armor that had grown thicker and denser with each battle he had survived. He was a close friend of Aetherwing, and his fighting style complemented the aerial Guardian's tactics.
He now faced four Shadowfen behemoths simultaneously, creatures of similar predatory nature but corrupted by shadow magic. They were hybrids of various ancient predators, their forms twisted and enhanced by the imprisoned god's lingering essence.
To the south, Quincunx Maru the Apex Predator defended the warm lowlands, fertile swamplands, and sprawling floodplains. This region's abundance allowed for larger territorial claims, resulting in thirty-two boss-ranked territories, fewer but more imposing than the north.
Quincunx Maru was a magnificent Chimera, a fusion of the greatest big cat lineages: lion, tiger, jaguar, leopard, and several extinct predatory species. Its composite nature gave it access to multiple fighting styles and two elemental affinities of fire and metal, making it an unpredictable and deadly opponent.
It faced four behemoths that specialized in overwhelming force, creatures that relied on raw power rather than the finesse Quincunx Maru had perfected.
In the east, Misty theArbor Hydra Weaver defended the rolling wetlands and dense woodlands where countless rivers braided together. This region maintained thirty-three boss-ranked territories in careful balance, with creatures that had learned cooperation as often as competition.
The Arbor Hydra Weaver was an eight-legged arthropod of immense proportions, its numerous limbs making it perfectly adapted to navigate intricate waterways and dense forest canopy. Its fighting style emphasized entrapment and gradual dismantling of opponents rather than direct confrontation.
Against it came four behemoths adapted to aquatic and semi-aquatic combat, creatures that moved with equal facility through water and across land.
To the west, Drake the Iron-Horn Bulwark protected the thick primeval forest and mysterious deep hollows. This region's thirty-three tightly packed territories had bred ambush predators and creatures of hidden glades.
Drake was an armored behemoth that defied easy classification, possessing massive wings, imposing tusks and horns, and a hide so thick that only a few highly specialized weapons could even penetrate it. Its defensive capabilities were legendary, and its fighting style emphasized endurance and counterattacks.
It faced four opponents who specialized in sustained assault, creatures designed to break through even the strongest defenses through relentless pressure.
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A Fundamental Disadvantage
These four Guardian Beasts, excluding Aetherwing who fought separately in defense of his adopted home at Maya Village, were vastly outnumbered. The mathematics were brutal and simple: five defenders against twenty attackers.
But the Shadowfen forces had a critical weakness that partially offset their numerical advantage. While the defenders fought as a coordinated team, having developed combat synergy over weeks of desperate warfare, the Shadowfen behemoths were fundamentally selfish creatures. Each had agreed to join this attack for their own individual reasons and goals.
For them, this was supposed to be a casual stroll, a simple conquest against obviously inferior opponents. They greatly underestimated their enemies, assuming that sheer numbers and individual power combined would guarantee an easy victory. Their arrogance was theoretically justified. With proper coordination, they should have been able to crush the defenders with minimal effort.
But they weren't coordinated. They couldn't achieve the synergy that would transform twenty powerful individuals into a truly devastating force. Each fought primarily for themselves, occasionally cooperating but never truly unified.
And just like Aetherwing's aerial opponents, these ancient beasts of destruction hadn't fought seriously in generations. They had grown complacent in their uncontested dominance. Meanwhile, Lonelywood's Guardian Beasts had been fighting desperately since this invasion began, their skills sharpened through constant mortal combat.
These might seem like small differences in abstract analysis, but in practice, they were decisive. A cornered animal fighting for survival is far more dangerous than a superior creature that has grown out of touch with its prime fighting condition.
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Reshaping Terrains and Reality
The clash continued to rage across the forest. Massive chunks of earth were ripped from the ground and hurled as weapons. Mountains were shattered and reshaped by the impact of the Guardian Beast bodies thrown against earth and stone. The forest burned anew despite winter's icy grip, fires ignited by magical discharges and the sheer friction of supersonic movement.
Ancient trees that had stood for millennia were toppled like saplings. Rivers were diverted from their courses by displaced earth. The very geography of the region was being rewritten by forces that dwarfed human comprehension.
Far from the Guardian Beast battles, the beast lords and their armies clashed with the defenders in conflicts that would have been considered major battles in their own right. Talon One and Talon Two: the Mandibles fought alongside Master Ben and the imperial soldiers, their goal was to end engagements quickly while conserving resources.
They faced hordes of both strong and weak enemies, a seemingly endless tide that threatened to overwhelm through pure attrition. Master Ben's fire and magma magic created zones of devastation that funneled enemy forces into kill zones where the imperial soldiers could engage them efficiently. Talon One and the Mandibles struck at the enemy's rear command, eliminating the weakest beast lords to throw their subordinates into disarray.
Maya Village, although not currently under direct attack, maintained the highest level of alert. Children, pregnant women, the elderly, and injured defenders had been evacuated to the fortified chambers inside their mountain fort. Human and beastman defenders manned the walls, ready to repel any creatures that managed to slip past the front lines.
This battle represented not merely a war of attrition but the survival of everyone who called Lonelywoods home.
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A Terrible Result
The battles between Guardian Beasts lasted for days of continuous combat. When they finally concluded, the result was technically a draw, though one weighted heavily in the defenders' favor psychologically if not materially.
The Lonelywoods defenders had fought with everything they possessed and achieved somewhat better results than anyone had dared hope. They hadn't outright managed to kill all their enemies, but they had significantly injured several behemoths and forced the others to retreat due to the unexpected ferocity of resistance.
The four Guardian Beasts of Lonelywoods fought admirably, but they paid a terrible price. Each bore severe injuries that would take weeks or months to fully heal. Even Aetherwing wasn't left unscathed, though his superior skill allowed him to kill two of his four opponents and assist his ground-based allies after eliminating his immediate threats. His intervention had been crucial in achieving the stalemate.
Ozythalos had also finally intervened personally when it became clear the defenders were reaching their breaking point. The appearance of the Equilibrium of the Depths had terrified the remaining Shadowfen forces into their grand retreat. The great serpent's mere presence was enough to scatter enemies that had seemed unstoppable moments before.
The five-day battle had concluded with the defenders still standing, still in control of their territory. By conventional military standards, it was a victory.
But the cost had been catastrophic. The mounting losses were staggering. This was merely the opening engagement, the tip of the iceberg. They had kept their Guardian Beasts alive, which was crucial, but at what cost?
And what would happen in the next assault? The Shadowfen forces would have licked their wounds just as the defenders would. But the behemoths had reserves to draw upon, reinforcements that could replace their casualties. The defenders had no such luxury. Every loss was permanent, every injury reduced their already inadequate force.
The wounded behemoths would recover their ideal fighting condition through rest and recuperation. Meanwhile, the defenders would enter the next battle already weakened, their injuries barely healed, their resources further depleted.
The mathematics of attrition were working inexorably against them. This was a losing battle in every practical sense. They had won this engagement through superior coordination, fighting skill, and desperate determination for now. But those advantages would erode with each successive battle while the enemy's numerical superiority remained constant.
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A Fading Hope
Even the most optimistic defenders were beginning to lose hope. The reality of their situation had become impossible to ignore or rationalize away. They were fighting a delaying action at best, buying time for something that might never come.
Colonel Commander Araxes reviewed casualty reports with a sinking feeling. They had lost hundreds of imperial soldiers in the five-day battle. Thousands of forest beasts who had allied with the defenders were dead. Civilian casualties (non mortal wounds) had been mercifully light due to successful evacuations, but the destruction of infrastructure and resources meant that even survivors faced hardship.
And this was just the first major engagement. Pico would learn from this battle, adjust her tactics, and coordinate her forces better. The next assault would be more focused, more deadly, more difficult to repel.
August stood among the other defenders, exhausted beyond measure, his body covered in wounds despite Angeline's best healing efforts. Dorgon's Fang had proven its worth, its mythical-grade power allowing him to fight opponents that should have been far beyond his capabilities. But even legendary weapons had limits when facing this scale of opposition.
"We can't sustain this," he said quietly to Master Ben. "We may have won this battle, but we're weaker now than when it started. They're weaker too, but they can replace their losses but we can't."
Master Ben nodded slowly, his ancient eyes reflecting weariness that went beyond physical fatigue. "You're right. If this continues as a pure war of attrition, we will lose. We need something to change the fundamental equation."
"What could we possibly do to change it?" August asked. "We're already fighting at maximum capability. The Empire can't send enough reinforcements to matter against this scale of force. The other great forests won't intervene as this is our fight. What's even left for us?"
For the first time even August had spoken with such hopeless words.
The old wizard was quiet for a long moment. "I don't know," he finally admitted. "For the first time in three centuries, I genuinely don't know what could save us as this point. Only a miracle would turn such tides into a pyrrhic victory."
Hope was something they needed most desperately right now. But hope was becoming the scarcest resource in a forest drowning in blood and death.
The question was no longer whether they could win, but whether they could survive long enough for a miracle to occur. And neither August nor Master Ben believed in such miracles to appear before them.