Free Web NovelChapter 550: Chapter 471: Deployment
Over at Nolun Workshop, the steel fortress continues to "grow."
This is not metaphorical, but a description of reality.
Under the continuous work of hundreds of Alchemy Wizards, the walls of the fortress thicken and heighten at a pace visible to the naked eye.
The originally hundred-meter high walls have increased, the surface no longer simply black metal but showing complex composite material textures.
The inner layer is an energy-absorbing honeycomb structure, the middle is self-repairing memory metal, and the outer layer is hardened alloy mixed with anti-magic powder.
Yet this is merely a node in Nolun Workshop’s defensive system.
Looking around, centered on this fortress numbered "7," steel fortresses of similar style but differing details stand every few kilometers on the gray-white wasteland to its left and right sides.
Every fortress is undergoing reinforcement operations synchronously.
From the start, the wizards never intended to fight individually.
The million-strong wizard army dispatched by Nolun Workshop had completed a thorough organization before entering the plane.
The entire legion is divided into twelve "Warbands," each Warband under ten "Battalions," each Battalion containing ten "Squads."
The most basic combat unit is a "Squad" led by one thousand Third to Fifth Level Wizards, supplemented by several Sixth Level Wizards and at least one Seventh Level Wizard.
Fortress 7 serves as the defensive core for one such "Squad."
According to pre-war requirements, the arrays of these fortresses will ultimately merge into a super-sized war fortress.
And at this moment, besides Alchemy Wizards like Jeming inside the fortress, there are more wizards executing other tasks in the wild.
"Third Ripple Trap Group, layout complete."
"Seventh Void Minefield, activated."
"Detection Spore Cluster, release quantity reached the predefined standard, beginning to spread towards the enemy’s movement direction."
The continuous stream of reports reverberates within the command center of Fortress 7 through an encrypted spiritual network.
The command center is located thirty meters underground, a spherical space with a fifty-meter diameter.
Hundreds of real-time monitoring screens cover the walls, displaying battlefield information from various angles.
Clark stands in the center of the space, hands behind his back, eyes calmly sweeping over those screens.
The screens show the operations of several vanguard legions.
About ten thousand wizards proficient in concealment, traps, and guerrilla warfare are spreading out fan-shaped from Fortress 7 as the starting point.
Through prior curse battles, both sides have learned each other’s areas. So these wizards constantly lay various deadly traps across the wasteland.
Meanwhile, a vast amount of reconnaissance units is being released.
Nanometer-sized metallic mechanical insects, mimetic slimes able to blend with the environment, illusions purely composed of light and shadow...
These "expendable" reconnaissance units spread outward at an astonishing speed, weaving a surveillance network that covers several hundred kilometers ahead.
"Report."
An urgent communication intercepts.
A Fifth Level Wizard with light armor and a fresh burn scar across his face appears on the screen.
Behind him is the continuous flashing of energy explosion lights, clearly in a battle zone.
"Forward Reconnaissance Post 7, number 114. Enemy main force movement confirmed..."
The wizard’s voice is a bit hoarse, but his speech is fast:
"Enemy full force assault. Number... minimum estimate of one million five hundred thousand, possibly as high as one million eight hundred thousand. Marching formation is ’Sharp Arrow Assault Array,’ vanguard led by nearly five hundred Tier Seven Wizards, with over ten thousand Tier Six Wizards. Rear main groups are accelerating, expected to contact our first trap defense line in forty-seven minutes."
In the image, one can vaguely see the distant horizon where a slowly rising "black cloud" appears.
This is the oppressive sight formed by the energy glow and flight paths released simultaneously by millions of wizards ascending into the air.
Inside the command center, the temperature seems to have dropped a few degrees.
Even though mentally prepared for this information when the numbers are truly confirmed, an invisible weight still settles onto the hearts of those who hear.
Clark’s expression remains unchanged.
Clearly, part of the enemy’s high-tier wizards are also unaccounted for.
But the bad news is, both sides have some absence among high-tier combat forces.
Thus, the current enemy numbers still exceed those on Nolun Workshop’s side, placing Nolun Workshop at a disadvantage at every level.
The Third to Fifth Level basic Wizards number only sixty percent of the opponents.
The numbers of Sixth Level and Seventh Level Wizards are about seventy percent compared to the opposing side.
"Simply put," Clark finally speaks, his voice as calm as if stating a fact unrelated to himself, "even if the opponent has some high-tier wizards absent, our high-tier combat strength remains at a disadvantage."
"Correct."
A voice carrying a hint of amusement suddenly sounds beside Clark.
The space slightly distorts, and the figure of Dionysius Spencer steps out of the void.
No trace of worry shows on this wizard’s face, there’s instead a sense of eager excitement.
Clark turns his head a bit to glance at him.
"Can’t you show a bit more concern?"
"Concern?" Dionysius laughs heartily, "With Nolun Workshop’s strongest genius in history here, what is there to be concerned about?"
Their conversation isn’t loud, but the command center is so quiet that the statement distinctly reaches Jeming tuning a Defense Rune node not far away.
Jeming’s hand pauses slightly.
He stealthily pokes Senior Sister Viola beside him—the latter is leaning against the wall with crossed arms, watching the rapidly approaching "black cloud" on the screen with interest.
"Senior Sister," Jeming sent a spiritual fluctuation through his gaze, "’The greatest genius in the history of Nolun Workshop’... such an exaggerated title, who does it belong to?"
Viola turned her head, visibly surprised.
"Don’t you know?" She blinked her silver-gray eyes, "Professor Clark is the holder of that title."
Jeming was taken aback.
"But..." he hesitated for a moment, "Wasn’t the Starfall Wizard the first in Nolun Workshop to receive a First Level training agreement? Doesn’t that mean..."
"It means her research has significant value for advancing the entire Wizard Civilization," Viola responded, a matter-of-fact tone in her voice, "But Professor Clark couldn’t get a First Level training agreement because his research is completely non-transferable, suitable for only a very few geniuses, maybe even just for himself."
She paused, seeing Jeming’s thoughtful expression, and added:
"This doesn’t mean the old man is weak. Quite the opposite, precisely because his path is unique and unreplicable, he is recognized internally within the workshop as ’the greatest individual genius ever.’
Jeming had more questions, but Dionysius’s voice rang through the defense area via spiritual link:
"All combat personnel, immediately move to designated combat positions!"
"Fortress Array entering full activation state!"
"Vanguard Corps is retreating, be ready to receive them!"
"Deploy the cannon fodder units..."
"Prepare for full engagement!"
The orders were like cold water thrown into boiling oil, instantly igniting the entire area.
Wizards who were operating outside the fortress began to systematically retreat inside.
The heavy metal gates slowly descended, and millions of defense runes on the walls lit up in succession, forming an intricate energy shield with a faint golden glow from the foundation to the top.
Meanwhile, every wizard, regardless of level, began releasing their prepared "cannon fodder units."
This is the norm in wizard wars.
Duel between high-tier wizards often affects the entire situation, requiring full concentration.
While the numerous but relatively low-threat enemy mid to low-tier wizards and various summons, mechanical bodies need to be worn down and held by our cannon fodder units.
Outside Fortress No. 7, the once barren land where just over ten thousand wizards operated, was completely "filled" within a minute.
No, not just filled.
It was "flooded."
Metal-constructed giants marched heavily, forming squares on the ground, the energy cannons on their shoulders beginning to recharge.
Elemental summoning arrays unfurled in the air, and elemental creatures like Fire Crows, Ice Wolves, Thunder Eagles, and Gargoyles surged forth like tides.
War beasts, modified from flesh and blood, roared, their forms distorted: some had three heads, others were covered in bone spurs, and some had wings of flesh unfurling from their backs.
Swarms of parasitic spores spread like green fog; they would attach to any enemy, drain life energy, and quickly reproduce.
There were even more bizarre entities: assassins formed from shadows, slime creatures capable of splitting, illusion legions purely formed from sound...
The cannon fodder units released by more than ten thousand wizards easily exceeded the billions, with numbers rapidly climbing.
The sky was obscured, and the earth trembled.
Jeming also left the command room and stepped outside.
He closed his eyes, consciousness plunging into his inner grotto heaven.
There, a legion long prepared was awaiting orders.
"Go."
The silent command was given.
In the next instant...
Rumble, rumble...
On the western side of Fortress No. 7, in an area with a radius of over five hundred meters, space suddenly distorted violently.
Then, like a breached dam, a black torrent flooded out of the void.
It was an army.
Pitch black all over, giants covered in a layer of flowing metallic fluid leapt from the warped space.
They lined up silently, each standing at least thirty meters tall, the vertical slit in their chest occasionally opening and closing, revealing obsidian-like fangs.
A chilling coldness emanated from them, a field of low temperatures caused by the continuous absorption of external heat.
Fifth Level Black Giants, one million.
Sixth Level Black Giants, ten thousand.
And, floating above the legion, seven hundred figures slightly smaller but emitting a distinct aura of wisdom.
Their armors, inscribed with intricate runes, and staffs formed from their own secreted substances glinted, with rational spirit light dancing in their eyes.
Black Giant Priests, all seven hundred, all Sixth Level.
Only a hundred priests brought back from the Purgatory Sulfur Plane were left by Jeming in his inner grotto heaven to maintain the automatic factories and energy cycle systems.
The moment this legion appeared, the cannon fodder units released by other nearby wizards showed a clear "retreat."
It was the instinctual fear of lower-tier life forms when faced with higher-tier beings.
After all, the energy waves emitted by the Black Giant Legion averaged at Fifth Level, interspersed with the pressure of over ten thousand Sixth Level presences.
Aside from the cannon fodder units released by high-tier wizards, the units from other wizards seemed overly frail before Jeming’s Black Giants.
(Extra Chapter today, another to follow)
