Chapter 1318 — The Forest Sea Line

Crack... boom!

Ancient trees centuries old tore themselves up from the fertile soil of the forest and charged at the aberrations pouring from the pass. With a long succession of grinding, wood-on-wood shrieks, the heavy limbs of the ancient trees came crashing down from the air, smashing the deformed monstrosities into pulp. Behind the trees, the elite rangers had already drawn their bows, the specially enchanted longbows gleaming with runic light along their surfaces, and at the tips of the precision-crafted arrows three faint blue wind-spirals flickered in and out of being, accompanied by the humming of resonating air.

"All units, charge—aim, loose!"

The commander's voice rang out from the high ground. A dozen arrows brimming with arcane energy, wrapped in blue wind-blades, sailed over the scorched, withered crown of the guardian ancient tree and fell in parabolic arcs at the far end of the pass. A pack of monsters that had been lucky enough to survive the ancient tree's crushing blows had just staggered up from the ground when the arrows punched through their bodies one after another; then the energy within the arrows triggered a chain of detonations inside them, and amid the rising smoke and flame, this wave of monsters that had burst from the dense forest was finally annihilated.

"First squad, rest in place! Second squad, recover the arrows! Medics, tend the wounded!" A human commander came down from a nearby rise, issuing orders among the soldiers. His head was wrapped in bandages, the originally white cloth now soaked black-red with blood and soot; the enchanted longsword in his hand was caked with gore, its once-abundant magical glow now dim beyond measure. He was exhausted, his eyes shot through with blood, but his voice was still loud and clear—at a moment like this, only that loud voice could hold the soldiers together and keep them going here.

Not far away, the tall, majestic guardian ancient tree let out a series of weary creaks. It came to the edge of the battlefield with heavy steps and sank its roots back into the earth, drawing on the scant nutrients in the soil to mend its wounds while it strained to spread its crown toward the first flush of dawn just now spilling across the forest's edge. The tree's crown had been scorched dry and black by flame and thick smoke; the few remaining green leaves trembled bleakly in the wind, rustling.

Several silver-haired elves rose from among the human soldiers and walked toward the weary guardian ancient tree. They seemed to be conversing with it about something. The human commander could not understand the peculiar rhythm with which the silver elves spoke to plants, but he could see the faces of those elven rangers growing steadily more grave—clearly, the ancient tree's condition had reached its limit.

Footsteps came from the dense forest nearby. The resting human rangers instinctively tightened their grips on their weapons, but once they made out the source of the footsteps, the soldiers relaxed again and went back to recovering their strength, savoring this rare respite.

The human commander of this small mixed unit looked toward the sound and saw a tall, upright silver elf in pale-gold alloy light armor leading a dozen or so soldiers through the trees toward them. He went to meet them at once: "General Lomar."

"No need for formalities. I am inspecting the line," said Lomar, ranger-general of the Silver Empire, raising a hand to cut off the human commander's words. There was scarcely a trace of blood or filth on him from killing enemies, yet the bloody, murderous air that seeped from his every movement was far denser than that of anyone else here. This ranger-general seemed to have slaughtered hundreds, even thousands of foes at the front, yet had let no defilement whatsoever cling to him. "What is the situation here?"

"The soldiers' stamina is nearly spent, and our weapons are badly damaged," the human commander said in a heavy voice. He took from a nearby soldier an arrow just recovered from the front and pointed at the spellcasting unit at its tip, which had already begun to melt. "Our consumption of spellcasting arrows is too severe—they have already come to this. I fear they will hold out for only two more volleys before melting down completely, and ordinary arrows are nearly useless against those monsters..."

Lomar's gaze fell on the magic arrow on the verge of its limit, and his expression was stern; for a long while he said nothing.

Too expensive. These precision spellcasting devices were exceedingly difficult to produce and process; even with the combined efforts of the Silver Empire and the Highland Kingdom, the number that could be scraped together from the royal treasuries was very limited. In the "normal wars" of the past, such consumption might still have been acceptable—but the army of aberrations pouring from the wasteland numbered in the hundreds of thousands, even millions. Those thick-hided monsters could be killed outright only with spellcasting weapons of this kind, and the magic weapons in the hands of the officers and men on this line... were nearly beyond what they could afford to spend.

"...The reinforcements organized by Lord Valendian have already crossed the Long Bridge of the Homecomers and will reach the front soon," the ranger-general said, letting out a soft breath and passing on the news he had just received from the rear to encourage these warriors shedding blood at the front. "Including three star-mage columns and at least six ranger legions. Your king is also mobilizing the border legions from the east and west. The pressure on us here will soon be relieved."

"...That is indeed good news. As long as reinforcements are confirmed, I believe we can hold out until then," the human commander said with a firm nod, deliberately pitching his voice a little higher—but then he lowered it again at once, glancing swiftly back at the billowing smoke still rising at the forest's end as he asked in urgent tones, "General Lomar, the situation at the Sunvault Palace..."

"The breach from the wasteland to the line has been largely sealed. Now only a few enemy forces can still enter the forest barrier through the small gaps to the side; a large-scale 'tide' like before will not occur again," Lomar said gravely. His tone had calmed now, but within that calm voice lurked another sort of sharpness and coldness, like a hidden blade. "What we must do now is hold back the monsters that have already entered the forest barrier, and not let them have the chance to gather, take form, and enter the civilized world to spread corruption..."

The human commander acknowledged the order in a heavy voice, and Lomar passed him by, walking toward the guardian ancient tree not far away.

The elven rangers tending the giant tree immediately saluted their supreme commander, and one of them said in a low voice: "General, its condition is very bad..."

Lomar nodded and came to the foot of the guardian ancient tree. He saw that this guardian of the forest seemed to have fallen into a brief stupor; its crown twitched and swayed in the wind, its mottled, ancient bark covered in shocking wounds, the sap flowing from its trunk already congealed and dried under the roasting of fire and smoke, while the foul power of the aberrations had left unhealable traces of corrosion in those wounds.

How many deadly assaults had this venerable guardian withstood on behalf of the humans and elves of the line?