Chapter 84: First Clash

At first, it was just a twisted shadow in the shallow area of the Blackwater Sea, as if space itself had been torn open into a long, narrow wound, only wide enough for one person to curl through. Violet-purple lightning hissed at its edges, emitting the foul stench of sulfur and rotting flesh. Through the gap, one could see countless pairs of eyes filled with hatred and madness.

But the calm was fleeting. Accompanied by a teeth-grinding, giant creaking sound from deep underground, as if the skeleton of the entire plane was being forcibly snapped, the edges of the crack tore outward violently! Seawater poured in frantically, only to be roared out by an invisible force, forming a filthy surge. The pollution of the Abyss began to spread violently to the surroundings.

The crack was like a dark heart beating at an accelerated rate, expanding and dilating violently at a speed visible to the naked eye. Its outline was no longer a tiny fissure, but transformed into a jagged giant mouth grinning monstrously. The original faint ghost light had turned into a pillar of purple-black light reaching the sky, stirring the clouds above to form a huge black vortex.

In just half an hour, the initial narrow gap had expanded into a huge vortex filled with the aura of the Abyss. Its scale was so huge that a demon lord a hundred feet tall could lead his endless army of demons, treading on boiling seawater like a tide of death, pouring into this world without any obstruction.

Every inch of the irregular edges of the Abyssal crack was hung with twisted forms scrambling and tearing at each other. They were less an army than a living tsunami driven by pure malice and the desire for destruction.

Charging at the very front were always the endless, nauseating "flesh currency" of the Abyss—Imps. These hunched, dark-red-skinned humanoid creatures were the most numerous, like a rolling tide of insects.

They screamed, attacking each other with claws and teeth, just to be the first to step into the material plane. There was no wisdom in their eyes, only greed and the instinct to destroy everything shiny.

Among the sea of Imps, some taller, rougher figures were particularly eye-catching—these were Dretches. They used brute force to knock aside everything in their way, their giant mouths full of fangs emitting roars like war cries.

They were engines of pure destruction, wielding natural bone blades or rocks picked up at random, smashing all obstacles in front of them to pieces. Whether it was terrain or friendly forces, in their eyes, there was only the pure desire for destruction.

In the demon tide, there were many discordant figures darting about. Abyssal Hounds, Abyssal creations with multiple heads, had saliva dripping from their mouths that corroded the seawater and their companions. They had no clear concept of friend or foe; any living thing that entered their biting range, including other low-level demons, would be bitten frantically by their necks.

The air was equally restless. Countless Vrocks with shattered membrane wings poured out from the upper part of the crack. Like a swarm of crazy bats, they circled and dived at low altitude, using poisonous claws and teeth to attack the backs of the surging demons below indiscriminately, adding another layer of bloodiness to the already chaotic scene.

The whole scene was a moving, self-consuming disaster. Demons marched by trampling on the corpses of companions who had been pushed down and torn apart. Black demonic blood dyed the shallow sea into a filthy quagmire. This was not a march; this was a filtration.

Those who could rush through the obstruction of their peers in the most barbaric way and finally step onto the beach were already the most cunning and cruel among the low-level demons. These were also the reserve force for future high-level demons. Of course, if they were lucky enough, low-level creatures that didn't live long enough were not worthy of becoming Abyssal powerhouses.

On the command platform of the Saltwater Swamp front, the chaos surging on the distant sea surface was reflected in the vertical pupils of the Bronze Dragon Aquilon. There was not a ripple in his cold eyes, only a calmness like a mathematical formula.

"Connect to the Norasien 'Tide Heart' Mage Tower Defense Headquarters." His voice was transmitted to the mind of every mage through magical resonance. "Tell Commander Vickers to start executing the 'Boiling Seabed' plan and give this group of demons a little shock."

Once the order was given, the elemental energy scattered at the top of the Norasien port's sub-towers (one mage tower paired with two defense towers) began to gather at an unprecedented speed and scale. The tower body of the Tide Heart shone brightly, and the elemental power crossed space, acting directly on the sea area where the demons were surging.

The shallow area of the Blackwater Sea, which had been calm, suddenly boiled—not because of heat, but because of the huge water pressure difference. Driven by extreme arcane power, the seawater turned into countless high-pressure water blades, cutting and tearing mercilessly from bottom to top at the low-level demons crowded together.

At the same time, the silt on the seabed came alive under the urging of magic, turning into giant, sticky tentacles that dragged groups of Imps and Abyssal Hounds into the bottomless mud, completely annihilating them.

Just as the vanguard of the demons struggled in the sudden purgatory of water and mud, the destructive energy accumulated at the top of the tower erupted. It was not ordinary lightning, but the spell 'Chain Disintegration Lightning' carefully configured by Vickers.

A thick, heart-stopping white electric light tore through the sky and smashed accurately into the area where the demons were most dense. The lightning did not disappear at the moment of impact, but like a living silver giant python, jumped and refracted frantically among the demon group. Every jump was accompanied by blinding flashes and the screeching of demons being instantly vaporized.

A Dretch might be pierced the moment it raised its bone blade, its huge body emitting a strong light as if ignited from within, then exploding into scattered charred fragments. This lightning chain covered the entire vanguard area within a few seconds, clearing out a large "pure" death zone.

Vickers' strike was precise and cruel. The surging demon "tide" seemed to have hit an invisible wall of destruction. At least half of the low-level demons were crushed, electrocuted, or dragged underground by this combination magic before they could even step onto the beach. A thick layer of severed limbs floated in the shallow sea area, and the foul-smelling demonic blood dyed a large area of the sea into an eerie purple-black.

However, Aquilon's brows furrowed slightly. The effect of the magic strike was remarkable, but the demons pouring out of the Abyssal crack seemed endless. The first wave was cleared, and the subsequent demons immediately stepped on the corpses of their companions to continue surging up. More importantly, he sensed that in the depths of the crack, several huge and malicious shadows were beginning to move.

"Vickers, execute the order and evacuate Norasien immediately. The fall of this place is a foregone conclusion, and your sacrifice will be worthless."

Aquilon's instruction was clear and cold. Vickers at the other end of the communication array was silent, and the elegant electric arcs flowing around him suddenly became violent and explosive. As a blue dragon who prided himself on controlling thunder and lightning, fleeing without a fight was simply the greatest desecration of his bloodline.

His slender neck raised proudly, as if wanting to refute, but in the end, those wings containing storms tightened and spread. With the most silent posture, he expressed the most difficult submission, leading five blue dragon beasts to evacuate the mage tower that had taken so much effort to build.

Not long after the figure of the blue dragon Vickers disappeared on the horizon, several huge shadows in the depths of the Abyssal crack locked their gazes, filled with pure malice, onto the Norasien port that was still shining in the distance.

They had no patience to crack the defenses of the mage towers one by one and intended to choose the most brutal, primitive, and effective way to wipe it off the map completely with absolute power.

One of the demon lords raised its giant arm made of lava and obsidian, while the other demon giants poured surging evil energy into it without reservation. The air around the crack groaned because it could not withstand this power, and space itself began to twist and collapse, as if condensing into an unstable micro-black hole in its palm.

The next second, a torrent of energy that could not be defined by color, wrapped in the wails from countless destroyed worlds, tore through space. It pierced directly through the fragile reality structure in front of the crack, creating a short-lived Abyssal passage above the Norasien port.

This destructive torrent was like a spear of judgment from another dimension, appearing out of thin air directly above the port. The strike descended instantly—no warning, no process, only the result.

First was the sound of the mage tower's defense array overloading and shattering, like billions of pieces of glass disintegrating at the same time. Immediately following was an absolute whiteness that swallowed all color and stung the eyes, expanding from the center of the torrent's impact.

Wherever the whiteness reached—whether it was the towering towers, the sturdy city walls, the crowded houses, or the lives fleeing in all directions—they were decomposed into the most basic particles within one-hundredth of a second, not even a wisp of blue smoke rising.

Only then came the delayed, earth-shaking roar, followed by the shockwave and hellfire rain that swept everything away. When the light and dust slowly dissipated, the once-prosperous Norasien port no longer existed.

In its place was only a huge, charred giant crater with crystallized edges, like an ugly scar on the earth. Seawater was pouring in frantically, but it could not wash away even half of the lingering Abyssal aura.

"Your Excellency Aquilon, Norasien... has no echo of our army. All troops that relied on the ruins of the city alleys to build a defense line have been confirmed to be wiped out. In addition, the Lizardman Legion that was patrolling and supporting outside the port was directly impacted by the destructive magic aftermath because they failed to evacuate in time... now less than one in ten remains. Preliminary count, the remaining troops capable of assembling for battle are only about a thousand."

"I understand, Shadow Claw. The blood flowing in Norasien port is your Lizardman kin, and the burning Saltwater Swamp is your hometown. But the demon invasion is not for us to choose, and the price of war is just this cruel. To win the right to survive, we must bear these sacrifices. This is the price that must be paid." ===== CHAPTER 85 =====