Chapter 479: Siege and Battlefront

Mo Mo Erdi hovered at the periphery of the high-altitude battlefield, his bloodshot eyes fixed relentlessly on Clark at the center.

He continuously unleashed offensive magic while rapidly issuing attack orders based on the battlefield's evolving conditions.

Through the mental network, commands stabbed into the minds of every surrounding mage:

"Second, Third, and Fourth Squads, keep casting 'Elemental Overload'—don't stop! Drain his computational capacity!"

"Fifth Squad, cast 'Spatial Viscosity' curses at 0.5-second intervals—disrupt his spatial magic model construction, don't let him find an opening to escape!"

"Sixth through Ninth Squads, maintain full coverage of the 'Law Interference Field'—especially targeting Fate, Time, and Causality!"

"All other units, unleash your strongest single-target offensive magic in rotation at my marked time nodes! Remember!! It's continuous saturation bombardment—even if he blocks this wave, the next must follow instantly, giving him no chance to breathe!"

The surrounding mages executed orders like a precision killing machine.

Over a hundred Level-7 mages and nearly two thousand Level-6 mages were divided into twelve attack waves.

Each wave finished its attack, immediately retreated to recover, while the next wave seamlessly took its place, and the one after that pre-charged in advance.

The assault came like an unceasing tsunami, crashing wave after wave against Clark.

Light, darkness, fire, ice, lightning, poison, space, time, emotion, soul, matter…

Dozens of different attribute attacks exploded, annihilated, twisted, and reformed wildly within a three-hundred-meter radius around Clark.

That region had become an absolute domain of death—any being below Level-7 who stepped into it would be shredded instantly by chaotic elemental currents.

Yet Clark's response remained chillingly simple.

He simply stood there.

Hands hanging naturally at his sides, his black mage robe unmoved amid the violent energy storms.

Every incoming attack vanished soundlessly upon entering the hundred-meter radius around him.

It seemed effortless—but Mo Mo Erdi noticed faint, fleeting streams of silver-white data flickering within Clark's calm eyes.

That was the spiritual manifestation of extreme computational load.

"Effective!"

Mo Mo Erdi's heart surged.

The cost had been horrific—in the past three minutes, over eighty Level-6 mages had died instantly, either from miscalculations or from being caught in Clark's retaliatory aftermath.

But they had finally found a way to suppress Clark.

The method was simple, just as a Level-8 mage faces a Level-9 entity: overwhelm his computational upper limit with sheer volume.

After all, when a mage uses power normally, it's always "using spiritual power to manipulate elements."

Spiritual power isn't infinite. Computational capacity isn't infinite.

As long as the intensity, frequency, and complexity of attacks exceed the opponent's maximum concurrent information-processing limit, even the strongest mage will be suppressed.

Clark was strong—strong enough to instantly cripple seventeen Level-7 mages, strong enough to erase fifty Level-7 mages' combined assault with a wave of his hand.

But he couldn't possibly process over three thousand distinct attacks per second indefinitely.

"Maintain suppression! Don't stop!"

Mo Mo Erdi's voice carried suppressed exhilaration.

After sacrificing over a hundred Level-6 mages, the balance of the high-tier battlefield had finally been restored!

But the next second, that gleam of triumph vanished from his face.

Because he diverted a thread of his consciousness to check the lower battlefield.

His expression plunged into utter darkness.

Below, the battlefield between the cannon-fodder legions and the fortress line.

From above, the cannon-fodder flood of the Chaos Cult and the Tower of Annihilation still surged like a black tide against the Steel Line of Plane Nuolun Workshop.

But when the tide struck the line, it didn't splash—it spilled piles upon piles of corpses.

Plane Nuolun Workshop's defense was too solid.

The colossal composite defensive array formed by over a hundred steel fortresses had now completed over 40% of its energy circuit connections.

The pale golden barrier was more than three times thicker than at the battle's start, its surface now bristling with five times as many runes, and its self-repair speed increased sevenfold.

Worse, Mo Mo Erdi could clearly sense that the integrity of these fortresses' arrays was still slowly, steadily rising—at roughly 0.3% per minute.

What did that mean?

It meant Plane Nuolun Workshop's logistics mages were still building and reinforcing their defenses—even while fighting.

"These madmen…"

Mo Mo Erdi gritted his teeth, pus and blood oozing from his rotting gums.

He had known Plane Nuolun Workshop had many logistics mages.

But he had never imagined, until now, what kind of terrifying "infrastructure capability" could emerge when hundreds of thousands of logistics mages operated under a unified command.

Who could have foreseen it?

On one side, tens of billions of cannon-fodder legions stormed the line; on the other, enemy mages unleashed continuous magic bombardment, while high-tier mages harassed and ambushed—yet in this hellish battlefield, Plane Nuolun Workshop's logistics mages still had the capacity to keep "constructing!"

And at such high efficiency!

"This only proves one thing."

Mo Mo Erdi forced himself to calm down and began analyzing.

"The current battlefield intensity hasn't even reached Plane Nuolun Workshop's defense line's 'breaking point.'"

"The fact that their logistics mages still have spare capacity means their defense system has redundant computational power, redundant energy supply, redundant construction personnel."

"And as the defense line grows more complete, this 'breaking point' keeps rising…"

His heart sank.

In mage positional warfare, there was a simple logic:

If you fail to break through the enemy's line at the start, your chance of victory plummets exponentially over time.

Because the defender holds terrain advantage, pre-set rune arrays, stable energy supply, and layered protective arrays.

What about the attacker?

Every attack must be built from scratch, every bit of spiritual power drawn from within, every movement consuming extra computational cost.

Worse still, Plane Nuolun Workshop's "fight-and-build" tactic was a direct mockery of the attackers:

"Your attacks are too weak—so weak we still have time to reinforce the walls."

How had it come to this?

Mo Mo Erdi closed his eyes, rapidly replaying every critical moment since the battle began.

(End of Chapter)