"Damn those Doomsday Rebirth bastards!" Kayla growled through clenched teeth. The lightning on her thunder claws could no longer be restrained, crackling and sparking wildly, leaping and flashing, causing several already frightened refugees nearby to scream and stagger back. "Who else but those scum could pull off something like this on such a scale! Roman Chronos... he's launched the full assault!"
Fa's right eye star pupil surged with intense, flickering dim light, reflecting the raging storm now raging inside her. The situation was a hundred times worse than they had imagined! The western and northern fronts had collapsed simultaneously, millions displaced, the Alliance forces' status unknown, the entire war shrouded in thick fog!
"What about the Alliance army?!" TISK could no longer hold back. His rough voice turned hoarse from urgency and rage. He grabbed the merchant's arm with such force that the man cried out in pain. "Where's the Elf Queen? Where are the allied forces of all races? What the hell are they doing?!"
Though his arm hurt, the merchant understood the dwarf's feelings. Enduring the pain, he pointed north, his tone heavy and mournful: "The Alliance army... is already moving. The Elf Queen has urgently summoned every force she can muster! I heard all the elite troops of every race are mobilized! Humans sent two hundred thousand, dwarves one hundred and fifty thousand, elves eighty thousand, beastmen one hundred and seventy thousand, amphibious clans one hundred and fifty thousand—a total of seven hundred and fifty thousand troops! They're marching day and night toward the front lines to stop those... those monsters!" He paused, a deep sense of powerlessness flashing in his eyes. "But... the enemy is too strange... and their numbers... they say it's overwhelming... The Alliance army... is under immense pressure."
Seven hundred and fifty thousand troops! A number large enough to shake the continent—yet in the merchant's tone, it sounded so pale and feeble.
"We must head to the front lines immediately!" Fa's voice was decisive and unyielding, her star pupil locking onto the merchant. "Quickly tell us—where is the Alliance army's central command headquarters now? We're going to reinforce them!"
The merchant pointed toward the distant northwest: "The Alliance army's command headquarters is set up in Murest City! That's the heart of the Murete Continent, the largest transportation hub, and the central gathering point for supplies and intelligence. All military orders and battle reports are issued from there. If you're heading to the front, please be extremely careful."
"Thank you!" Fa solemnly thanked the merchant—this piece of intelligence was vital. She spun around sharply, her gaze sweeping across every companion's face: the furious TISK, the compassionate Arya, the bloodthirsty Kayla, the calmly analyzing Rex, the pale-faced Lin Ya, the fluctuating soul shadow of Salsa, and Celestia, who had been gazing toward the horizon but now turned her eyes back to the group.
No more words were needed. A shared burning will—to fight the common enemy and save their homeland—ignited fiercely within the team.
"Target: Murest City!" Fa's voice cut through the oppressive air of Shattered South Port like a drawn sword. "Move out! Salsa, summon the wing guards! We have no time to waste!"
"Understood!" Salsa's magic once again tore open the ground. Ten shadow wing guards re-manifested, carrying an even more urgent chill.
Without the slightest hesitation, everyone leaped onto the wing guards' backs once more.
"Go!" Fa commanded.
The ten shadow wing guards let out silent roars. Their massive wings beat fiercely against the air, whipping up gales and dust. Like ten black lightning bolts tearing through despair, they shot skyward, racing toward the heart of Murete Continent—Murest City! Below them, countless refugees in Shattered South Port lifted their faces—faces filled with a mixture of fear and the faintest glimmer of hope. Time had never been so precious; responsibility had never felt so crushing. The war was spreading, and they had to become the first dam holding back the flood of destruction!
The Covenant of Murest City
The broad membrane wings of the shadow wing guards sliced through the airflow, producing low, mournful howls. Below, the landscape of Murete Continent unfolded like a painting scorched by war, constantly shifting as they flew at high speed. To reduce the continuous summoning burden on Salsa, Fa and the others strictly adhered to a rhythm: fly for half a day, then land and rest for two hours.
Every time they landed to rest, the scenes that greeted their eyes weighed heavier on their hearts. Once peaceful country roads were now muddy and rutted, covered in chaotic wheel tracks and frantic footprints. The edges of formerly lush forests had been brutally cleared to make way for streams of desperate people. A vast, silent, mixed flood of refugees trudged laboriously along the broken roads toward the relatively safer south and east. People of different races, stripped of their homeland's protection, were forced to squeeze through the same narrow passages. The air was thick with the choking dust, sour sweat, and the faint rotting smell wafting from poorly bandaged wounds.
Some refugees pushed mechanically augmented wheelbarrows fitted with simple hover devices or reinforced axles, piled high with belongings and handheld terminals glowing with communication lights. Others dragged mutilated limbs, limping forward on crude prosthetic limbs flickering with energy circuits. A few of the luckier ones rode mechanical spiders, mechanical wolves, or mechanical horses—creations of gears, alloy frames, and mimetic shells that now served as mobile fortresses, carrying supplies and children, offering a faint thread of shelter amid the chaos. Most of the children's faces were smeared with grime, their eyes vacant and lost. Held tightly in their parents' arms or led by small hands, their young faces bore the weathering and profound exhaustion far beyond their years. Heavy packs bent countless backs, containing not only food and water, but also fear of the unknown future and a sliver of faint hope.
"Look over there!" During one brief rest stop, Lin Ya pointed with slender fingers toward a nearby fork in the road. There, a group of about twenty mercenaries had gathered, forming a stark and jarring contrast to the surrounding sorrowful, suppressed crowd of refugees. Their equipment was eclectic—ranging from crude solid-projectile firearms to cold weapons glowing with rune light, to armor embedded with small energy cores—exuding the wild, patchwork ferocity typical of desperados. They were crowded around a crudely modified mechanical cart loaded with several large iron barrels, laughing and shouting loudly. The stench of cheap ale drifted on the wind.
A burly human mercenary with a face full of scars chugged a large gulp of murky liquor, roaring hoarsely, spittle flying: "...Pah! I heard those soft-legged city guards in the west pissed themselves the moment those glowing ghost vines burst out! Their turret cannons fired a few shots and went silent! If I'd been there, one swing of my axe would've turned those ghost vines into kindling!" He slapped the cluster of high-explosive grenades hanging at his waist, sneering with contempt.
Beside him, an elf ranger with a vicious scar across his face let out a mocking laugh, his nimble fingers toying with a short-range energy bow fitted with a scope: "Come off it, Black Bear. Didn't you pay to see the last encrypted image crystal transmitted from Frostfort before it fell? It's gone viral on the Alliance black market intel channels! Those vines were thicker than dozens of you stacked together! They punched through fortress-grade magical shields and alloy walls like poking through paper! If you ask me, those fancy regular troops of the Alliance are just embroidered pillows. It's up to us blood-licking brothers to teach those home-invading bastards what real fighting looks like!" Greed for bounty and blind confidence in his own skill gleamed in his eyes.
A dwarf mercenary slammed his thick, heavily scarred alloy breastplate hard, producing loud clangs. The small unstable force-field generator embedded in it flickered with erratic blue light: "Damn right! The Alliance's grand army is impressive, but when it comes to risking your life, you need veterans like us! When I reach the front, this 'Mountain-Splitting Hammer' paired with electromagnetic acceleration will smash those iron-lumped, slime-dripping freaks back into their mothers' wombs! I hear chopping off a 'Mutant's' head gets you one gold coin and a barrel of top-grade ale from the officers! Now that's a deal worth taking!"
"Haha! Hell yeah—worth it!" The group of mercenaries roared with laughter, clinking cheap metal flasks and glowing energy drinks together. Liquor and fluorescent liquid splashed everywhere. The air was thick with astonishing ignorance of war's brutal reality and manic yearning for monetary rewards. To them, the battlefield they were rushing toward wasn't a meat grinder—it was an exciting hunting game.
TISK's temple veins bulged violently. The ice-blue and crimson light patterns on his Lava Hammer flickered dangerously as if enraged, the hammerhead faintly emitting both searing heat and freezing chill. "A bunch of death-seeking idiots! Treating hell like a gold mine!" he cursed under his breath, knuckles white. The dwarf's explosive temper made him want to charge over and deliver a hammer blow charged with ice-fire explosive force to each of those arrogant loudmouths.
Kayla curled her lip in disdain. Her thunder claws, crackling with faint blue arcs, emitted soft pops. "Let them go. They'll at least clear out some cannon fodder for us and save us some effort." Even so, a trace of gravity flashed through her sharp beast pupils. The mercenaries' arrogance and ignorance were the most blatant proof of how brutally dire the front-line situation truly was, This is the most blatant illustration of severely chaotic and even deliberately distorted information.They had no idea what kind of abyss they were about to face.
Arya let out a soft sigh. Her emerald eyes, deep as forest seas, were filled with worry. Her light-and-dark elven bloodline made her especially sensitive to the passing of life: "They don't understand what they're walking into... This isn't a field of glory—it's a purgatory that devours everything. May the spirits of nature protect these lost souls blinded by greed." Looking at the greed for wealth shining in the mercenaries' eyes, she seemed to already foresee their fate once they stepped onto that land paved with blood, flesh, and mechanical wreckage.
Fa silently watched this absurd and tragic scene. The profound light in her star-like right eye swirled, as though piercing through the false clamor to reach the cruel truth beneath. These arrogant words stabbed like poison-tipped barbs into the hearts of those who had personally witnessed the terror of "Doomsday Rebirth" and endured life-and-death trials on Ghost Island. It was laughably ridiculous, yet carried an overwhelming, inescapable sorrow. War was never a hot-blooded epic, never a game for gold coins and ale—it was a cruel road to destruction, paved with countless lives, desperate wails, and cold metal wreckage. She turned away, her voice tempered like quenched steel—calm, resolute, unquestionable: "Rest time's over. We press on. Our battlefield isn't here." She needed to conserve every ounce of strength for the true battle that would decide fate.
Fourth day, dusk.
After days of non-stop flight, they finally reached their destination as the setting sun poured its afterglow across the sky. On the distant horizon, the outline of an unimaginably grand mega-city gradually sharpened—like a steel titan crouching in the twilight. Murest City! This heartland, which fused the pinnacle of Murete Continent's magical craftsmanship with lost technological essence, had now become the last and strongest central fortress resisting the Doomsday Rebirth's tide of annihilation. Countless enormous energy shield generators hovered above like inverted giant bowls, faintly visible, circulating complex runes and energy halos.
To avoid unnecessary panic and troublesome inspections, Fa decisively ordered: "Land! Descend in that densely wooded, rugged valley ahead with good cover. We'll enter the city on foot."
The ten shadow wing guards, as though receiving a silent command, instantly retracted all aura. Their massive membrane wings skillfully adjusted angles and silently glided into the shadows of a thickly forested, uneven valley. The moment they touched down, their enormous bodies dissolved once more into flowing darkness, threads of shadow converging and shrinking until they merged back into Salsa's seemingly harmless mechanical cat shell, as though they had never existed. The group quickly straightened their wind-tossed, dust-covered armor and gear, suppressed unnecessary energy fluctuations, and swiftly walked out of the valley shadows toward the steel giant city that emanated crushing pressure.
The closer they got to Murest City, the tighter the iron fist of war gripped them—the intangible oppression almost became tangible. Towering walls built from dozens-of-meters-thick giant magical granite and reinforced alloy glowing with dim light stretched like continuous mountain ranges. The walls were densely studded with energy shield generator weak points flickering in various magical rune colors, as well as dark cannon muzzles—both crude solid giant cannons and streamlined energy weapons that hummed with low-frequency charge. Soldiers in standardized armor of different races and factions patrolled the battlements and massive alloy gates. Elven rangers' perception magic spread like invisible nets; dwarven shield bearers' heavy armor and tower shields shimmered with protective runes; human magic swordsmen wielded weapons wreathed in elemental glow; amphibious sentries' slick skin sensed the slightest vibrations; beastmen berserkers radiated feral alertness. Their gazes were sharp as eagles, scanning every approaching target. Long queues formed at the gates—mostly hover or tracked supply convoys and weary refugees undergoing strict inspections.
Most eye-catching of all were the five enormous banners fluttering atop the highest watchtower, whipping in the smoke-scented wind, symbolizing the mightiest powers of the continent gathered here:
- The Bloodied Beast-Bone Flag of the Claw Empire (beastmen): crafted from the bones of some giant beast and blood-dyed leather, crude and ferocious, exuding primal savagery and unyielding strength.
- The Triple Forge Flag of the Steel Melting Alliance (dwarves): assembled from thick metal plates, featuring three-dimensional reliefs of furnace, anvil, and warhammer—heavy, solid, symbolizing unmatched forging skill and tenacious will.
- The Coiled Serpent-Turtle Flag of the Salto Alliance (amphibious clans): made from the tough hide membrane of some deep-sea creature, with a lithe, eerie serpent entwined around a thick-shelled turtle,Carrying the rich moisture of the swamp and the mystery of the deep sea.
- The Silver Moon Ancient Tree Flag of the Emerald Forest Sea (elves): woven from faintly glowing moonlight silk, depicting a towering ancient tree bathed in silver moonlight—elegant, sacred, flowing with the radiance of nature and ancient magic.
- The Golden Lion Roar Flag of the Human Empire "Mithras Federation": luxurious golden velvet base embroidered with a majestic, lunging golden lion—regal and imposing, proclaiming humanity's order, ambition, and dominance.
When Zhamisi's gaze fell upon the coiled serpent-turtle flag of the Salto Alliance, her cold scarlet vertical pupils suddenly contracted. Her hand gripping the poisoned curved blade "Venom Fang" instinctively tightened, knuckles whitening from the force. The flag of her homeland... that alliance nestled between humid swamps and deep bays—its symbol now flew at the highest point of Murest City, side by side with the continent's mightiest powers! A surge of complex, indescribable emotions—pride as a child of Salto, deep longing for her native land, and a trace of near-home timidity mixed with alienation—crashed over her like a tsunami. She stared silently at the banner fluttering in the twilight for a long time. A faint ripple passed through the depths of her cold serpent pupils before she took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the churning emotions, flicking her powerful tail, and quickly catching up with the group.
The checkpoint at the gate was extraordinarily strict, equipped with energy scanners and magical detection crystals. When Fa stepped forward, clearly stating their identities and requesting an urgent audience with Elf Queen Sylvia Sunshine, the city defense officer in charge—a stern-faced, sharp-eyed man—immediately filled his expression with vigilance and thick suspicion. The indicator light on his energy sensor flashed yellow for alert.
"An audience with Her Majesty the Sunlight Queen?" The guard officer carefully sized up this group of strangely dressed, travel-worn people who had clearly endured a long journey—especially Salsa's eerily quiet mechanical cat with no life signs, and Rex's clearly non-human, heavily armored metal body covered in technological patterns. His tone was filled with distrust and bureaucratic coldness. "Her Majesty is overwhelmed with affairs, coordinating the entire Alliance army's resistance against the enemy. Every minute concerns the lives of tens of thousands of soldiers on the front lines! How could just anyone request an audience? Your identities are unclear, your origins suspicious," he deliberately emphasized, his gaze sweeping over Rex and Salsa, "who knows if you're infiltrators or spies sent by the Doomsday Rebirth organization? Leave immediately! Otherwise, under wartime regulations, you'll be treated as traitors and executed on sight!" With a wave of his hand, several heavily armed soldiers equipped with energy rifles and magical shields immediately "clack" gripped their weapons tighter. Cold gun barrels and glinting blades all subtly aimed at Fa's group. The air froze instantly, taut as a fully drawn bowstring.
Infiltration and Audience
Facing the cold weapons and undisguised hostility, Fa's eyes cooled slightly, but she did not lose her temper. Deep in her star pupil, dim light swirled as she instantly analyzed the situation. Forcing their way in would only cause greater chaos, expose their identities, and possibly trigger the city's lethal defense systems.
"Looks like we'll need a 'special' approach," she whispered to her companions behind her, her voice mosquito-thin yet clear to every ear. Her star pupil's vision instantly pierced through appearances, precisely capturing the brief blind spots where patrolling soldiers' lines of sight crossed on the wall, as well as a relatively dark surveillance dead zone behind the gate side where damaged defense robot parts and discarded energy cells were piled. "Follow me—move fast!"
Guided by her near-prophetic precision prediction and route planning, Fa led the group like water merging into shadow, swiftly moving along the cold, rough base of the city wall. They deftly avoided squad after squad of disciplined, keenly perceptive patrolling soldiers and the sweeping beams of magical searchlights like giant eyes. Lin Ya wordlessly extended her fingertips; a faint, almost imperceptible green glimmer flashed. Several hair-thin vines, colored almost indistinguishably from the wall's moss, quietly emerged from the cracks and deftly wrapped around the hover nozzle of a nearby supply-laden hover truck waiting for inspection.
"Psssh!" A soft hiss of escaping air. The truck lurched violently, losing balance. Boxes tumbled off with a clatter, causing a small commotion and drawing the guards' shouts. In that split second when all the guards' attention was drawn to the sudden minor chaos, Fa's group ghosted through the cover of the debris pile, silently vaulting over the not-too-high auxiliary alloy defense wall and successfully infiltrating the heavily guarded inner city district of Murest City.
The atmosphere inside the city was even heavier and more oppressive than outside. Though the wide main avenues were still bustling, everyone moved with hurried steps and tense expressions, rarely speaking. Fully armed, well-equipped joint patrol teams marched past with heavy footfalls. Makeshift mobile aid stations emitted the mixed scent of disinfectant and herbs; the faint groans of the wounded could be heard. Massive holographic projections rolled continuously over the central square, displaying front-line battle reports, casualty figures, supply requisition orders, and emergency evacuation guidelines. Cold electronic synthesized voices echoed between buildings. The air was thick with machine oil, steel, ozone (from leaking magical energy), and the faint, drifting smell of gunpowder—a unique wartime scent.
Relying on Fa's memory of the city's layout and Rex's restored ancient database three-dimensional map navigation of Murest City, the group avoided the crowded main roads and patrol routes, swiftly navigating the maze-like, dimly lit back alleys and side streets. Half an hour later, they finally arrived at the location of the Alliance Central Command—a grand building heavily encased in several-meter-thick reinforced alloy shells and multiple overlapping magical shields circulating complex runes. It was once the council hall of the Kingdom of Mrest., it had now become the nerve center of the resistance war.
The security at the command headquarters entrance far exceeded that of the city gate. Elven rangers occupied high points, their perception magic spreading like invisible spider webs; dwarven shield bearers stood like mobile fortresses, their thick tower shields blazing with runes; human swordsmen held long blades wreathed in elemental power,breath condensed; amphibious sentries hid in shadows, their skin sensing the slightest vibrations; beastmen berserkers resembled coiled predators, low growls rumbling in their throats. Together they formed a flawless joint sentry post, radiating killing intent.
This time, Fa made no attempt at any form of notification. She gave a subtle glance to Celestia, who hovered low with most of her light wings folded, and to Salsa, who crouched quietly. The six-winged winged one's figure blurred,Disappeared from the spot as if blending into a gentle breeze. The next moment she silently appeared in the shadow of a decorative flying eave high on the command building, her sharp gaze sweeping downward like a falcon surveying all movement below. Salsa's mechanical cat shell lightly leaped onto a nearby inconspicuous ventilation duct platform covered in pipelines, her amber electronic eyes locking onto all energy fluctuations and life signals around the headquarters. Rex quietly activated his armor's visual and energy stealth mode; back plates silently slid open, releasing dozens of tiny reconnaissance drone swarms while initiating full-spectrum scanning to build a real-time internal structural map of the building.
"TISK, Kayla—guard both sides of the entrance. Anyone approaches without permission, stop them," Fa ordered in a low voice, her tone brooking no argument.
"Leave it to me!" TISK growled, slamming his ice-fire patterned Lava Hammer heavily into the ground with a dull thud. Like a gate guardian, he positioned himself beside a thick alloy pillar at the side of the command entrance. The dwarf's characteristic tenacity mixed with furnace-like heat waves and ice-cavern chill instantly spread, forming an invisible deterrent barrier.
"Heh, perfect—my hands were itching for some action!" Kayla grinned, baring sharp canines. Muscles bulged under scaled arms; blue arcs crackled dangerously on her thunder claws with low threatening hums. Her beast pupils ferociously scanned any potential approaching targets, her raging battle intent spreading through the air like tangible electricity.
Fa then led Arya, Yuyuer, Lin Ya, and Zhamisi. Guided by Celestia's precise, map-like mental directions from above and Rex's real-time scan data of the building's internal structure and guard distribution, they moved as naturally as if walking through their own home. They cleverly bypassed layer after layer of visible and hidden sentries—sometimes hugging cold alloy walls, sometimes briefly traversing ventilation ducts, sometimes dashing under the perfect camouflage of Lin Ya's environment-blended vines—until they finally reached the core strategic area, standing before the incredibly thick alloy grand door of the strategy hall, flashing with multiple magical seals and physical locks.
Without needing instruction, Lin Ya extended her slender fingers once more. This time emerald-green life-force radiance swirled at her fingertips—not vines, but countless dust-fine, nearly invisible spiritual mycelium quietly seeped out, intelligently threading into the incredibly complex mechanical lock core deep within the door. Under the delicate manipulation of natural spiritual power, Internal precision gears, energy circuits, and magical runes were subtly guided and dissociated. After several almost inaudible "clicks" masked by heartbeats, the complex locking mechanisms inside were temporarily paralyzed. The massive alloy door silently slid inward, opening just enough for one person to slip through sideways.
The grand and oppressive scene inside instantly came into view.