Chapter 504: After the Great War

"The two Lords can recover if they overdraw their power and take a rest. Are there any other geomantic nodes that have been breached?"

"The Bird of Fate sent several Greater Daemons to try and sneak toward the Great Vortex; that Elf fought them and didn't suffer a major loss. Your territory is fine; it costs a great deal to tear open a Chaos Rift without believers working from the inside."

Master Mazida understood what Sinuoli was concerned about. Setting aside the newly reclaimed territory of Belegar, the Southlands had almost eradicated the soil for Chaos cults to survive in after years of management and secret patrols by the Western Depot.

"Back to Lord Kroak, his soul has not fully merged with his body; how is this to be solved? Another new ritual?"

"We do not know."

"Indeed, even the great First Generation does not know. The knowledge the Creator gave us does not contain this item."

After learning about the situation in his territory, Sinuoli became concerned about the fruits of the victory. Before the master of the City of the Sun could finish speaking, the palanquin of Lord Xhotl appeared from nowhere.

"Perhaps the baseline of the ritual we designed is flawed, but that is not what you should be concerned about. Lord Kroak told me that without the protection and nourishment of a physical body, he cannot wield power wantonly, and forcing an action would only make his soul, which is already drifting and weakening in the astral realm, worse. He needs to slumber for a period of time."

Refusing the solicitation of Khorne himself and standing firmly on the side of Order earned Sinuoli a higher evaluation from the second-generation Slann; they had come to regard this younger generation as a peer with whom they could converse as equals.

"He has already been moved into the Zhumulv-shuichi; that is a wonder left behind by the Creator, possessing incredible healing abilities. We will remain stationed by the pool, never leaving his side, until he awakens."

Seeing that Sinuoli was still uneasy, Lord Xhotl gave him the bottom line. Lord Mazdamundi raised his Cobra Staff, cast two energy-restoring spells upon himself, and walked down the pyramid with Sinuoli; as the leader, he had to go and preside over the aftermath.

"How many Demigods have there been in the history of the Dragonbeard Clan?"

"Three, but now there are four!"

Grimm Ironfist stood on a stack of beer barrels, preaching his insights. After consecutively cutting down three Great Unclean Ones, the Slayer King forced out his own limits; every subsequent swing of his axe was a death-defying counterattack erupted after resolutely squeezing his own potential.

Quantitative changes accumulated, and Lord Kroak's "Deliverance of Itza" became the catalyst for a qualitative change. The more Agelimu hovered on the edge of life and death, the more profound his understanding of power became. When he realized that appropriate contraction was for the sake of a better explosion, he finally pushed open the door that had troubled him for nearly a hundred years.

The shackles of the mortal peak are the greatest challenge for the strong; they need to seek outward, and it is often only through precipitation and long, arduous searching that they can find that faint, elusive opportunity.

"What about the casualties? Give me the report."

Seeing his dragon-skin cloak corroded to rags by venom and his fur-covered helmet looking as if it had just come from a third-rate barbershop, Sinuoli's heart grew even heavier. The forest-like orange-red crests and earth-shaking war cries from the start of the expedition were no more.

"Almost all the Slayers have found their deaths. It is the supreme honor to fight to the end against Nurgle's legions in this land where the Old Ones descended. The god Grimnir will welcome them."

Sitelinge of Weifengbao murmured, as if reporting to Sinuoli and as if trying to console himself. Which of the Slayers who participated was not quite a "failure"? Among them were many with resounding names and battle records that were widely sung.

"The other melee units lost twenty percent of their strength under alternating rotations; the wounded affected by the plague are basically out of danger thanks to your healing."

"Sigh, these are the most precious treasures of the Qunshan and the Old World, but when facing the assault of Greater Daemons, they must be used to hold the line."

Although he had long known that casualties were inevitable, Sinuoli still couldn't help but sigh. One must know that in the campaign to reclaim the Eight Peaks, the losses of elites at this level were only about the same as they were now. But every commander knew that under the great terror of being in a demonic realm, even the slightest instability of will could lead to direct corruption and falling into the demonic path.

"Four Helicopters were shot down; in the chaos, only one pilot escaped successfully. The artillery crews in the rear were affected after the Bloodthirsters were shot down; those crazed fellows didn't even prioritize trying to destroy the Artillery!"

"What was I doing at that time? Right, I was fighting Karanak! Damn it!" Sitelinge put this part at the end and laid the groundwork for a long time; Sinuoli knew that a piece of bad news was waiting for him.

"Senior brother, we lost more than forty veteran gunners and loaders! To provide one or two more rounds of barrage support for the front line, they refused to abandon their guns and flee. Just like that, sigh!"

"What about Malakai? What is that rat-bred doing? Is he too afraid to come see me?"

"Your Master of Innovation grabbed a wrench and rushed up to try and buy time for the others. If he hadn't heterodoxically worn protective gear, he would have succeeded as a Slayer."

"Sooner or later, I will build a place similar to the Imperial Gunnery School in the Southlands."

Accountability was meaningless now; Sinuoli could only look forward. The Chaos Dwarfs had proven their purity through heroic performance; perhaps he could supplement his manpower with those who were unemployed due to the loss of their Daemonic construct artillery.

"Report! The pointy-eared trash is begging for you to go over. Should we drive the envoy away or kick him into the river?"

The vast majority of Dwarfs were blocked by the Lizardmen army and could not see the combat situation of the High Elves, but from the result of them becoming a breakthrough point, it was not hard to infer that they had fought poorly. That it almost led to the Reclaimer of the Qunshan being ambushed and killed by Khorne was even more unforgivable.

"You fished Tyrion out? Did that Daemon develop feelings over time and not deliver a killing blow?"

After a brief communication, the Dwarf King understood the ins and outs. To prevent his master's corpse from being further ravaged by the charging Khornate Daemons, Malhandir had carried him into the river in the chaos, and he was only recovered after drifting for a distance.

"The Heart of Awalong, His Majesty actually let him bring this holy relic out."

Tyrion was dried off and settled on a soft cushion. Yisitelanna stared at the green light on his chest, seemingly wanting to touch it but not daring to reach out. Looking closely, it was a fragile amulet, its power sealing the wound under the Warlord's armpit.

Sinuoli thought of the records about it in the Book of Grudges. It was a treasure bestowed by the Elven Mother Goddess Isha upon her mortal incarnation, along with the Staff of Awalong, the silver crown known as the Star of Awalong, and the Stone Shield of Isha; it had accompanied successive Everqueens through hundreds of battles.

Legend had it that it contained the life spirit of the entire Awalong Senlin and even Ulthuan; it was reasonable that it could hang onto Tyrion's life just by being passively triggered.

"Lord Namati has sacrificed himself, and Lord Tyrion has become like this. In the name of the Phoenix King, and counting Princess Aitila as well. Please coordinate with the Slann to send us back as soon as possible!"