Chapter 286: Elf Marshal's Rhapsody (13)

Storm Continent, Southern Thunder Wasteland.

The sky was covered with dark clouds, thunder rumbled within the cloud layers, and wild winds howled frenziedly across the wilderness.

A storm was brewing.

On this boundless wilderness, two armies faced each other at a distance of three kilometers.

One was the Elven Army.

Among them were terrain giant dragons as big as small hills, tree warriors wielding giant clubs or holding thick wooden shields, treant archers with centaur-like bodies, sun mages with wings on their backs, and moon mages handling defense, healing, enhancement, dispelling, and other support duties—over twenty kinds in total.

Various troops coordinated to form a three-dimensional combat system on the ground and in low air.

Their numbers were also huge, exceeding 100,000, forming a dense battle array like forests and mountains.

The other was the Fusion Army.

The soldiers of the Fusion Army were all a bunch of bizarrely shaped things.

Some were covered head to toe in spikes, some had long noses, some had three heads, some stood twenty-plus meters tall, taller than the terrain giant dragons, and some were simply huge masses of fleshly buds piled together.

In short, at a glance each fusion warrior looked extremely wild, with hardly anything in common among them.

The numbers of these fusion monsters were also very large.

At a glance its battle array seemed endless, and above it hovered a layer of dark red powder resembling flour.

When the wind blew, the powder scattered everywhere, and much of it blew toward the Elven army's formation.

But whenever the powder was about to reach the Elven formation, large amounts of rune light would appear before it, blocking the powder and spewing flames that burned it to ashes.

The Elves were cautious, clearly having suffered greatly from this before.

Boom—

A tremendous bolt of lightning tore across the horizon, splitting the whole sky with a huge rift.

At that moment, a roar rose from among the Elves, contending with the thunder.

"Battle ready!"

At this sound, the previously somewhat loose Elven formation tightened instantly, like a bowstring pulled to its limit, ready to fire death-dealing arrows at any moment.

Almost simultaneously, a long dragon's cry came from above the clouds.

This sound was sharp and soaring, rolling over the Fusion Army's formation like a line of spinning blades.

Visible signs of panic appeared in the Fusion Army's ranks, with smaller fusion creatures cautiously huddling beneath the larger ones.

This is no surprise.

Because past battle experience told them that the imminent flying giant dragon would be extremely overbearing, faster than lightning, and its attack power no less terrifying than lightning.

And since the enemy could fly, soaring higher than the clouds, they spent most of their time merely taking hits, struggling to mount an effective counterattack.

Howl—

Hiss—

Wail—

Seeing the situation turn bad, the giants in the Fusion Army began to emit loud roars.

At the same time, their hill‑like bodies kept trembling as they performed various strange motions.

With these motions, some giants secreted large clumps of pus‑blood‑like mucus; some opened their mouths and sprayed clouds of multicolored mist into the sky; others shook off huge amounts of powder resembling flour or butterfly dust.

These substances were so abundant that they formed an extremely thick protective net, enveloping the entire Fusion Army in a mass.

Past battles have shown these defensive measures to be highly effective.

They can protect oneself and also poison the enemy.

But it cannot be denied that, to mortal eyes, these methods are extremely eerie and utterly revolting.

In the Elven formation, looking at such eerie and disgusting foes, the soldiers' expressions were extremely complex.

There was hatred, disgust, and also fear.

In past battles, these monsters' frontal combat strength was inferior to theirs, but the various toxins they secreted always caused them great trouble, sometimes even heavy losses.

The Elves' supreme commander was a modified warrior over five meters tall, named Antalia.

He was one of the most legendary war gods of the Elven Empire, and the legion he led was invincible on the battlefield.

Now he also possesses formidable personal strength.

He not only has a soul approaching Legendary 14 in strength, but also wields a Truth Battle Body forged by the Tree of Life at great cost.

This battle body far surpasses the Golden Battle Body, its inner power virtually limitless.

At this moment, Antalia gazed at the opposing Fusion Army, a hint of contempt curling his lips.

"Same old tactics—then just wait to die."

He immediately contacted the Dragon Chief loitering in the clouds.

"General Olei, begin!"

Olei, commander of the new‑generation Truth Dragons and one of the strongest warriors of the Dragon Clan, possessed a Legendary 13 soul.

Originally he was already a mighty Golden Dragon; after his master returned, he was granted the Seed of Truth, elevating him and his ten subordinate Golden Dragons into Truth Dragons.

Compared to Golden Dragons, Truth Dragons have greatly increased mana and physique, granting them almost unimaginable combat might.

Yes, it is might—enough to overturn the situation of a grand legion.

Howl— a distant dragon's cry again came from above the clouds.

Immediately thereafter, an enormous figure burst out of the clouds.

His whole body showed a dark‑gold hue, wingspan exceeding 80 meters, and his entire form was entwined with fiery golden mist.

He dove down from the high heavens at an inconceivable speed.

Piercing the cloud layer, he split it in two, as if a Creator Giant wielding a battle‑axe.

Slicing through the air, it made the air emit a deafening thunderclap.

His aura was so mighty that even the thunder of the wilderness became insignificant background.

At this moment, he was like a dark‑gold meteor plummeting into the Fusion Legion below.

Even more terrifying, such meteors were not just one, but ten!

The pressure was so fierce it came down from the heavens like a crushing weight.

Before the dragon even arrived, its magic swept down upon the legion like divine judgment.

It was dark‑gold dragonfire.

It erupted from the rune halo before the dragon, converting nearly eighty percent of their legendary mana into a conical high‑pressure jet of flame.

After traversing over seven hundred meters, it spread into a dark‑gold dragonfire about two hundred meters wide, sweeping across the ground over the Fusion Legion.

The dark‑gold dragonfire's temperature was extraordinarily high, and its duration was absurdly long, lasting a full minute.

A stream of dragonfire burned through the Fusion Legion, instantly leaving a swath of ash over two hundred meters long.

Not to mention the fusion monsters—even the ground was scorched into boiling lava.

In the blink of an eye, ten such lava‑ash belts appeared, and at least five thousand fusion warriors were vaporized on the spot.

Such a strike was horrifying; the losses it inflicted were nearly three times those of a golden dragon.

The Fusion Legion's morale plummeted to rock bottom instantly, and signs of chaotic collapse began to appear.

Meanwhile, the Elven Legion's morale surged to its peak in an instant.

Elven Marshal Antalia waved his hand and let out a roar like thunder.

"Legion~~advance~~"

With that order, the ground‑based Elven Legion surged forward, while the ordinary dragons circling in the clouds dove down to attack.

These ordinary dragons' strength naturally paled compared to the Truth Dragon—not even a tenth of it.

But they made up for it in number, boasting a full four hundred.

For an otherworldly legion bolstered with many support spells, a three‑kilometer distance is nothing.

At full charge, they crossed it in just a few minutes.

The aerial dragons and ground forces coordinated, charging into the Fusion Legion to slaughter wildly.

In a normal clash, their combat power would be roughly equal, but thanks to the poison, the Fusion Legion could still gain the upper hand.

But the Fusion Legion's morale was near collapse, and its fighters fought purely on instinct.

One side fought in formation with seamless coordination; the other flailed wildly—this turned two forces of comparable strength into a staggering casualty ratio.

Roughly, for every ten Fusion warriors killed, only one ordinary Elf warrior was lost.

As for the Dragon warriors, they suffered virtually no casualties.

The battle began at 10 a. m. and lasted until 2 p. m., after which no standing Fusion warriors remained in the wilderness.

Soon, the battle report was delivered to Marshal Antalia's hands.

"Our side: 6,000 wounded, 1,600 dead; the Dragons suffered no losses, and nearly all the fallen warriors' souls were successfully reclaimed."

"The enemy fielded 120,000 warriors, were utterly annihilated, and we captured 87,000 of their souls."

Antalia burst out laughing: "Not bad~~really not bad~~"

After a warrior's soul is reclaimed, it is infused into the Tree of Life, which then re‑embodies it.

At most three months later, they can return to the battlefield.

Likewise, the captured 87,000 warrior souls will be infused into the Tree of Life, undergo soul‑remolding, and become Elf warriors.

Thus, in this battle the Elven Legion not only crushed the enemy but also gained a vast reserve of fresh strength.

Before the Master's return, such a near‑perfect record would have been utterly unimaginable.

Antalia looked up at the Truth Dragon circling in the sky, a deep feeling stirring within him: "Today's Elven host is absolutely the strongest force in the world!"

With such an invincible legion, destroying the Fusion Empire is merely a matter of time.

Antalia recalled the map of the Storm Continent, made a rough estimate, and reached a crude conclusion.

"Three legions, three fronts advancing together."

"At most half a year should suffice to utterly crush the Fusion Empire, and by then we will reap vast war resources and over three hundred million souls."

These souls will not only be infused into the Tree of Life but also into every great tree of the Endless Forest, granting all things a soul and making them part of the Sacred Elf Empire.

Thus, the conquest of the Storm Continent certainly drains the Empire's immense strength in the short term, but in the long run it actually greatly increases its war potential.

Antalia then thought of the mortal realms on the White Continent, and a fierce battle‑lust ignited in his heart.

"Once we conquer the Storm Continent, we will go on to conquer the Mortal Empire, so that this world may once again bask in the Master's glory!"

(End of chapter)