A Journey That Changed The World

Chapter 1443: Coming For A Second Go

Archer was standing on the eastern wall the legion built that led to the road to as a horde of Mutated Humans and Monsters rushed toward them. He turned to Elara, nodding. ’’Begin my love.’’

When the redheaded Dragonkin heard this, she faced her commanders, a wide grin spreading across her face. ’’Light them up,’’ she ordered with a decisive nod.

Moments later, the wall erupted into chaos. Cannons roared in unison, their muzzles belching Mana Blasts and smoke as explosive shells arced into the horde that continued rushing toward them.

The stone shuddered as blasts tore through the enemy ranks, shredding mutants into bloody mist and hurling monstrous beasts skyward in sprays of ichor. A hulking creature with too many limbs staggered, collapsing into a twitching heap.

Archer watched as mages unleashed their fury in tandem. Fireballs the size of boulders screamed through the air, detonating in blinding bursts that incinerated dozens of mutants at once.

Lightning arced from outstretched hands, chaining between foes and reducing them to charred husks. A powerful mage summoned a torrent of razor-sharp ice shards, which sliced through a pack of snarling, horned beasts, pinning their corpses to the earth.

Thanks to their attacks, the horde faltered but pressed on, driven by some instinct. Mutants with elongated jaws and sinewy limbs scrambled over the bodies of their fallen, while a massive, eyeless monstrosity plowed through the carnage.

Elara’s grin never wavered. She raised a hand, signaling the second volley. Just then, the cannons fired again, their payloads now laced with glowing runes that exploded into clouds of corrosive mist, melting flesh from bone.

Crushing entire swaths of the horde into the ground as if flattened by an invisible hammer. A particularly bold mutant, its arms replaced by writhing tendrils, reached the base of the wall, only to be engulfed in a pillar of violet flame conjured by Archer.

’’Vile creatures, I hate them so much,’’ he spat. ’’The Terravians have kidnapped billions over the years, including the Lost Continents all over Thrylos.’’

The redhead agreed with a determined nod, replying. ’’Don’t worry, we’ll wipe them out, unlike the empires that came before. The Dragonfire Company has been overworking to make sure they have enough Mana Shells to last the battle.’’

Following that, the smoke cleared, and the grassland outside the wall was a graveyard of smoldering corpses and shattered monstrosities. The few remaining enemies scattered, their momentum broken.

Elara surveyed the carnage, her grin softening into a satisfied smirk. ’’That’s how it’s done,’’ she muttered, turning to rally her forces for the next assault.

Archer stood there, smiling. ’Looks like all those years of training paid off, we’ll take Avidia in no time,’ he thought.

After that, he noticed the battlefield lay strewn with the bodies of the enemy horde, the air thick with the tang of burnt flesh and mana. Smoldering craters pocked the plain, and the ground was slick with the blood of mutants and monsters alike.

Yet, his sharp eyes caught movement in the distance. a second wave, larger and more disciplined, emerging from the haze. Twisted banners fluttered above the advancing ranks, carried by hulking brutes clad in jagged armor.

Behind them, siege-beasts lumbered forward, their hides reinforced with bone plates, towing crude war machines that belched black smoke.

’’Look, Lara, the Terravians are coming for a second go,’’ he informed the redhead.

Her smirk tightened into a steely glare. ’’Seems like they’re not done yet,” she growled.

She spun toward her lieutenants, her voice ringing with authority. ’’Reload the cannons! Mages, prepare your spells and focus fire on those machines. We hold this ridge!’’

Her forces snapped into action. Cannon crews, their scales dusted with soot, hauled fresh alchemical charges from reinforced crates, ramming them into the barrels with practiced precision.

Mages knelt in formation, chanting in low tones as shimmering barriers of mana flickered into existence along the wall’s edge. Archers, perched on elevated platforms, nocked arrows tipped with explosive runes, their eyes locked on the approaching enemy.

The ground quaked as the second wave closed in. The armored brutes led the charge, wielding massive cleavers that gleamed with a sickly green sheen. Behind them, mutants with elongated limbs skittered like insects, their claws scraping furrows in the earth.

Archer was about to get involved but stopped when the siege-beasts roared, their war machines launching volleys of barbed iron spheres that screamed through the air, shattering against the mages’ wards in bursts of sparks and shrapnel.

’’Fire!’’ Elara bellowed, her fist raised high.

The cannons thundered once more, their explosive shells slamming into the front ranks of the brutes. Armored bodies were torn asunder, their jagged plate mail no match for the alchemical blasts.

One siege-beast staggered as a Mana Shell obliterated its foreleg, toppling its war machine into the dirt with a deafening crash. Mages followed with precision, hurling spears of molten light that pierced the war machines’ weak points.

’Elara has trained the 1st Legion well,’ he mused. ’It makes it easier that we don’t have to fight the Goldenmane soldiers.’

Following that, he turned back and noticed all the Lion Demi-Humans watching from behind the wall. Their commanders kept them in check as Malakia ordered them to get on with the Draconians.

Moments later, the archers let loose, their arrows streaked like comets and detonated on impact, scattering mutants in sprays of gore. But the enemy adapted. A group of robed figures emerged, their hands glowing with Terravian Magic.

With a unified gesture, they summoned a wave of dark mist that rolled across the battlefield, dampening the mages’ wards and choking the cannon crews with its foul stench. The brutes, emboldened, charged through the mist, their cleavers hacking at the weakened barriers.

A siege-beast, its hide scorched but intact, reached the base of the ridge, its massive jaws snapping at the defenders.

Elara turned to him with a worried look, but he spoke. ’’Fight them, Lara, I want to see how strong you’ve got.’’

When the redheaded beauty heard this, her eyes blazed with defiance. She nodded before answering. ’’Thank you, handsome. I’ll be careful.’’

Following that, she turned to the wall and shouted her orders. ’’Mages, purge that mist! Cannons, target the casters!’’

Archer watched as Elara drew her weapon and leapt from the wall, landing amidst a gaggle of brutes. Her blade sang as it cleaved through armor and bone, each swing leaving trails of fire that ignited the enemy’s ranks.

Her presence rallied the defenders, who redoubled their efforts. The mages countered the necrotic mist with a surge of radiant energy, banishing it in a pulse of blinding light. Cannon fire zeroed in on the enemy casters, reducing their formation to a smoking crater.

The archers shifted their aim to the siege-beast, their runed arrows piercing its eyes and joints until it collapsed, crushing a dozen mutants beneath its bulk, causing the Legionnaires to cheer when seeing this.

Archer’s attention was caught by a young mage who unleashed a desperate spell, a vortex of swirling blades that carved a bloody swath through the enemy’s flank, buying the defenders precious time.

Yet the horde pressed on, their numbers seemingly endless, which confused him to no end as he sensed no portals. The Dragonkin commander fought at the forefront, her flaming sword a beacon in the chaos.

While he watched from above, Elara quickly noticed a brute lunging at her, its cleaver raised, but she sidestepped and drove her blade through its chest, the flames consuming it from within.

She glanced back at her forces, her voice cutting through the din. ’’Hold the line! We break them here, or we break!’’

Elara surged like a tempest, her blade flashing through waves of lunging Mutant Humans. She moved with relentless speed, cutting them down. Her boots pounded the cracked earth, her breath steady despite the chaos.

Moments later, a hulking brute, twice her size, charged from the rubble, its eyes glowing with feral hunger. Elara didn’t flinch. She spun low, slicing its tendons, and as it crashed to its knees, her blade found its throat.

The beast’s roar choked into silence. More came, but she danced through them, untouchable, her every move a defiance of death. Behind her, the horizon burned red, the dying sun casting long shadows.

Somewhere in the distance, a low tremor shook the ground, heralding something worse. Elara’s eyes narrowed, her grip tightening on her blades. The Mutants were just the beginning.

She then rallied the Oathkeepers dispatched by her lover, charging headlong into the front lines of the towering Mutants. While the Dragonkin fought in the thick of things, he watched from the wall with a proud smile.

’’Looks like she’s becoming a Pseudo-God thanks to all the sex,’’ he muttered, chuckling.

Following that, Archer decided to help out and summoned an army of Shadow Creatures that washed over the Mutate army, which was torn apart. While this happened, he ordered Elara to return to the wall.

When the Dragonkin woman rushed toward him, he used the tattoo to summon her beside him, causing her to yelp in surprise.