In Mela's depiction, outside the shadow city forged from the authority of the dark god—a counterpart to Belland—a silent black tide surged. This unbearably brutal "war" had reached its climax.
Layers of chilling thick fog spread forth. Over the black expanse of ocean, hundreds, if not thousands, of immense and grotesque moon beasts advanced under the guidance of a ghostly blue moonlight, slowly but resolutely approaching the iron bastion.
Ahead of these colossal creatures, countless smaller monstrosities, along with berserk and mindless lower-level serpentines, had already launched countless reckless charges at the fortress. Yet, they were shredded to pieces by the ballistae, spells, and magi-tech cannons atop the city walls. The blood and fragmented flesh left behind nearly stained the nearby waters red.
Beneath the wall, corpses were piled in layers, the stench saturating the air so thickly it almost became tangible dark smoke. This smoky miasma, carried by the ocean breeze, silently wafted toward the bastion.
"Hey, even those brainless creatures know how to play tricks like this?"
Atop the iron wall, someone let out a playful whistle. A sudden gust of wind surged forth, instantly dispersing the black smoke.
Professor Gran casually caught a wisp of the smoky haze in his hand. Bringing it to his nose, he took a faint sniff, his brow raising slightly.
"This poison... fascinating. There's a certain familiarity to it, as if it belongs to someone I know."
His eyes looked over the dark ocean and landed on one particular monstrous moon beast.
In the moonlit area, atop this beast's head, sat a serpentine distinct from the cannon fodder below. His figure was towering and muscular, his snake tail as thick as a barrel. His visage, still retaining traces of an impressive handsomeness, hinted at another identity. As if sensing Professor Gran's gaze, the serpentine's snake-like eyes flickered, returning a chilling glare.
"I recall... that’s your senior brother, isn’t it?"
Beside Gran, Professor Pulan had also noticed the serpentine in an instant. His expression was complex.
"Legend says he pursued power and willingly aligned himself with the moon? I didn’t imagine he’d also be transformed into a serpentine."
"For power, should one discard so-called humanity, even betray their own master?"
Professor Gran, shedding his usual carefree demeanor, adopted a rare look of cold detachment.
"But honestly, I don’t see how he’s any stronger than me—his junior!"
"Would you like my help with this?"
"No need. You’d best stay here and guard the fort. Neither he nor I excel at direct confrontations, but precisely because of that, we both understand how significant our roles are to this war."
As he spoke, Professor Gran flicked his sleeve, and several crystalline vials were hurled toward the pile of corpses beneath the wall.
The vials shattered on impact, their solutions spreading out and seeping into the surroundings.
Within moments, the corpses began to sizzle, as though ignited. Yet, no flames erupted. Instead, an intense white mist rapidly rose into the air.
The white mist clashed with the black smoke, each corroding and polluting the other. Any living creature that came into contact with the mist or smoke would perish painfully in a matter of seconds, then rot away swiftly, becoming part of the mist or smoke.
A silent battle raged on. Within mere minutes, the area outside the walls became a wasteland devoid of any life.
"Looks like I don’t need to worry any longer. But still..."
Professor Pulan raised his head, his expression no less grave than before.
"That moon... it's truly emptied every card in its hand."
On the iron bastion above, countless trained forces—knights, mages, and soldiers—busily moved about. One after another, new experimental weapons from the Royal Academy were being deployed. Even the nobles showed no hesitation in bringing out their hidden "treasures" and using them freely.
Under such overwhelming firepower, the low-level serpentines and lesser moon beasts couldn’t even approach the walls before being obliterated into heaps of flesh.
Yet anyone with a discerning eye could see that these were just fodder designed to divert firepower.
"This won't do, we can't keep up like this,"
Professor Pulan thought, his gaze flickering with contemplation. In battles, generals should face generals, soldiers against soldiers—that was common knowledge. However, if they adhered to this rigid principle at this stage, the consequences would be devastating.
He was traditional, but not a fool.
Still...
The cannon fodder were vast in numbers and spread across a wide range. Casual attacks would lack effectiveness. A way to gather them together was needed.
But how? These brainless creatures certainly wouldn’t respond to temptations like beautiful women.
"Why?! WHY?! I'm not even tasty! Why won’t you stop chasing me?!"
Amid Professor Pulan’s train of thought, his eyes caught sight of a certain Pink Bear dashing past him.
Trailing behind the bear, several moon beasts—after painstakingly breaking through a weak point in the defenses—had astonishingly abandoned their assault on the bastion to single-mindedly pursue his comical wobbling rear-end.
Several times, they nearly managed to leave shameful marks on what the Pink Bear considered his "sexy and charming posterior." Enraged, the Pink Bear pulled out his spiked club and smashed the pursuing beasts into pulp. Before he could catch his breath, however, he noticed Professor Pulan staring at him with bright, sparkling eyes.
In Pulan's hand was not a weapon, but a thick, sturdy rope he seemed to have found from who knows where.
"Wait... what are you trying to do?!"
"Let me warn you! I’m your dean, your superior officer! Watch out, or I’ll dock your pay!"
"HELP! Someone’s harassing me!"
Despite his futile struggles, the Pink Bear was tied up tightly and dangled from the city wall, swaying back and forth like an irresistibly sweet bait.
In an instant, piercing screeches filled the air. Countless lower-tier serpentines and smaller moon beasts turned their gaze toward the pendulating Pink Bear. Like ravenous wolves, their eyes gleamed with primal, violent desire.
Then, without hesitation, they charged.
Layer after layer, trampling over the bodies of their fallen comrades, they surged forward like a tidal wave of insects, forming a chilling and grotesque tide.
Yet, on Pulan’s lips was the faintest trace of a smile.
Gripping his silver staff tightly, he tapped the ground lightly.
A radiant crown soared into the air. Behind him, an enormous magical construct manifested, exuding an awe-inspiring power. Within its framework, magic surged and pulsed like waves.
And then—destruction descended!
Blinding beams of light just narrowly missed the Pink Bear’s writhing rear before colliding with the horde. The overwhelming power of the magic unleashed far exceeded that of a dozen next-generation magi-tech cannons combined. Everything in its path was reduced to ash instantly.
Under the combined might of a Grand Archmage and *The Crowned*, nearly one-third of the cannon fodder beneath the wall were annihilated in an instant!
The pressure on the city wall lightened dramatically as cheers erupted from those on the defense.
But in the depths of Professor Pulan’s heart, a sense of foreboding suddenly rose.
In the next moment—
The shroud of smoke and debris was violently torn apart as a massive, clawed appendage crashed down onto the wall.
With a grating screech, the iron-bolstered bastion bent and buckled upon impact.
Professor Pulan dashed upward, swiftly relocating to the sky.
The Pink Bear would be fine—he didn’t need to worry about him. But now...
His expression grew stern as he raised his gaze—
In stark contrast to the cannon fodder below, true monsters had arrived—beasts of unimaginable terror had made landfall!
