The winding path down the mountain led

  them quite a distance behind the front lines. The wretched stench of

  blood lay even heavier in the air now that they were on ground level.

  Even in the Profound Sky Sect’s temporary strategic base—built like a

  proper town for the purpose of housing the elders of the sect as they

  commanded the armies—the enchantments couldn’t quite filter out the

  ever-present metallic note in the air. They did, however, do a better

  job at subduing the blood-curdling screams echoing from the field

  hospital. When Sebastian, and the rest of the company, passed through

  the gate in the outer walls of the town, chaos turned to calm.

  Although the town had been built in a hurry when the war

  came knocking after a decade of mostly peace, it was impressively large

  and of a higher quality than most ordinary towns. Not only did it house thousands of disciples and workers of the sect, there was more than

  enough room for all the members of the Wandering Wolves Corps.

  They were guided to a secluded neighborhood of the town,

  likely constructed specifically for them since it looked like a more

  recent addition. The architecture of the town was reminiscent of

  traditional Chinese buildings. Most central buildings were pagodas with

  multiple floors while the residential houses all had small courtyards.

  Sebastian helped his unit unpack and get settled into a

  few connected houses with a shared courtyard. Each unit got their own

  courtyard.

  Once everyone was settled, the command staff was summoned to attend a meeting with the elders of the Profound Sky sect.

  The main hall was practically a palace. As soon as they

  entered the grand courtyard, a pleasant, subtle hint of jasmine replaced

  the powerful stench of blood that occupied the rest of the area.

  Clearly, the upper echelon of the sect ensured that they remained far

  from the reality of war.

  Once inside, the officers of the Wandering Wolves Corps

  were led to a large open meeting room with a long table in the center.

  Sebastian couldn’t help but notice that the ornate wooden floor was

  heated for extra comfort.

  At the head of the table sat the sect leader, an elderly

  man with a long white beard wearing the same azure blue robes as

  everyone else in the sect, only made with a finer silk. Captain Cirera

  sat to his right with his three vice captains next to him. Opposite them

  sat the four core elders of the Profound Sky Sect. Sebastian and the

  rest of the lieutenants stood against the wall behind the captain.

  Fortunately, the room was large enough that all 19 of them fit without

  issue. About a dozen elders, who weren’t quite as high up as the core

  elders, stood behind them as well.

  “Welcome, Wandering Wolves!” the sect leader said. “We are grateful that you answered our call for aid in these trying times.”

  “Sect Leader Cho,” Captain Cirera said as he lightly

  bowed his head. “How could we not. The Lumerian threat may be focused on

  our gracious hosts, the Profound Sky Sect, and your neighboring sects

  for now but it’s only a matter of time before they turn their vile

  armies toward the rest of the world.”

  The sect leader nodded approvingly. “Ordinarily we would

  not invite outsiders to join in our efforts to repel our enemies,

  however, we have received reports that they are preparing to deploy a

  newly formed platoon. The Divine Light, they call it. We have found

  great success in repelling their advances thus far, and we will continue

  to do so. Should this platoon arrive, it will be dealt with. However,

  while we deal with this new threat, we fear they might resort to

  cowardly tactics. We will need your Wandering Wolves Corps to intercept

  the enemy’s flanking maneuvers.”

  “Word of the might of the Profound Sky Sect has reached

  far and wide, even within the lands of the Calindor Federation. It is

  natural for the Lumerian forces to have no choice but resort to the

  actions of cowards to stand against a superior enemy. Rest assured, your

  flank is in good hands. Any attempts to strike at our gracious hosts

  shall be squashed, and the enemy flank in turn shall fall.”

  The meeting continued for hours. Most of it consisted of

  the captain and the sect leader exchanging compliments without saying

  anything of actual substance.

  Sebastian and the other lieutenants weren’t permitted to

  speak and had to stand there, in silence, for the entirety of the

  meeting. When it finally came to an end, Sebastian wasn’t the only one

  who let out a sigh of relief. Even a few of the elders on the opposite

  side of the room did the same.

  On their way back to the mercenaries’

  neighborhood, Sebastian took the opportunity to talk to Vice Captain

  Sellar. They had gotten a little closer during journey from Calindor.

  “Sir, I thought that they had already negotiated

  everything? Not to mention, didn’t the captain give a whole speech

  before we left Sudllar about fighting for coin rather than some greater

  good?”

  The vice captain chuckled, his mustache wiggling. “Politics, Baz. The sect has to make a show of how they don’t actually need

  to hire mercenaries, that they’re strong enough to deal with any threat

  on their own. If they show weakness then their other enemies and

  rivals, nearby sects mostly, might act on that perceived weakness.

  Likewise, the captain has to play along and make a show of how we’re

  here out of the goodness of our heart and not the depth of their coin

  purses.”

  Frowning with genuine surprise and confusion, Sebastian

  said, “Huh, I would have thought that at their levels they didn’t need

  to care about politics anymore.”

  “Quite the opposite, once you reach your limit there are only two things that matter anymore, your life and your reputation.”

  Sebastian narrowed his eyes and thought about what that

  meant. He turned his eyes toward the battlefield beyond the horizon. “Is

  that why they’re not out there, fighting, even though they’re strong

  enough to wipe out the entire enemy army of ordinary soldiers, single-handedly?”

  “Yes and no,” Vice Captain Sellar said with a shrug.

  “It’s definitely a part of it. But, if the sect’s powerhouses were to

  act then a general on the Lumerian side would be forced to act in

  response, and vice versa.” He paused for a moment and looked at

  Sebastian. “How old are you now, Baz?”

  “Late thirties, why?”

  “Say, how old do you think I am?”

  Sebastian was caught off guard by the question but looked

  at the vice captain to come up with a sincere answer. “Um… I suppose

  you look, maybe 50. So I’d guess you’re probably like 60 or even in your

  70’s.”

  “Hah, you’re kind. No, I turn 125 this year. And the

  captain and the sect leader, and even his core elders, they’re all

  ancient monsters. The weakest among the six is still over level 70, and I

  can guarantee that none of them is younger than 200. The sect leader is

  probably a century or two older than that, I know the captain is.”

  Sebastian stared at the vice captain, not sure how to

  fully process the information. “I knew people aged slower as they

  leveled up, but I didn’t think it was a matter of centuries.”

  “It’s rarely a topic of conversation. Most people will

  never meet anyone at those levels, and it’s something of an unspoken

  rule not to gossip about them.” He glanced over at Sebastian. “Among the

  ordinary folk, those with levels in the single digits, with age tends to come

  an acceptance of death. For some, even a willingness to sacrifice

  themselves for the younger generation. That’s not the case for the old

  masters. When you’ve spent centuries training, fighting, and struggling

  to survive and grow against all odds, you avoid death at all costs.

  Neither side wants to risk a true fight with the other. It’s only when

  they become desperate enough that they have no other options that they

  make their moves. Even then, they prefer to hire mercenaries to take the

  initial risk for them.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Vice Captain Sellar took a solemn breath before he

  continued. “In the end, it falls on the regular folk to fight the bulk

  of the wars, like pawns on game board. And those around level 20 to 40,

  the rare elite pieces. The elite soldiers are at least valued to some

  degree, the commoners on the other hand, they’re pure fodder. There are

  countless villages and towns throughout the vast territories controlled

  by each Group. Millions upon millions of pawns to be deployed. With the

  timespan that the highest leveled work with, they’re basically infinite

  resources. If you run low on pawns you simply wait a decade or two and

  you’ve got millions of brand new pieces to play with.”

  Did that play a part in the decade long truce? I thought it was just the overlord, but maybe there was more to it.

  The company didn’t get to rest at the

  strategic base town for very long. Within a few days, they were sent to

  the northern front. It was nothing like the main battlefield they saw

  from the mountain path, but there were still dozens of thousands, if not

  up to a hundred thousand ordinary soldiers across three wings of the

  battle, fighting and killing each other. As they got closer it became

  apparent that there was some structure to the chaos.

  These soldiers may not be valued much by the high-leveled

  leaders of each side, but to those on the front lines, be they soldiers

  themselves or commanders directing the battles, each life mattered.

  While there were intense battles in some areas, there

  were units standing in formation in others, waiting to assault weaker

  sections of the opposing army, or to reinforce any section which

  faltered. It was difficult to read the battle, but the commanders on

  each side maneuvered their units like pieces on a game board. Vice

  Captain Sellar’s metaphor was accurate in that regard.

  The company set up camp, and that night, when the

  fighting reached a natural lull for the night, the command staff met

  with the commander of the northern front to discuss the situation.

  They entered the building constructed as a command

  center, it was a small pagoda atop a hill, overseeing the battlefield.

  Inside was an open room with decorated pillars scattered around the

  room. In the center was a table displaying a map of the battlefield with

  intricately carved wooden pieces representing the units on both sides.

  “Elder Nam, I’m Captain Cirera of the Wandering Wolves

  Corps. On orders of Sect Leader Cho, I am now taking command of the

  northern front.”

  The captain handed the commander a scroll given by the

  sect leader. Commander Nam reluctantly accepted. Sebastian’s senses told

  him that the commander, or rather the former commander, and the other

  two leaders in the room were likely outer elders as their levels seemed

  to be on par with the lieutenants of the company, at the cusp of Major

  Accomplishment or having recently surpassed it.

  “I greet the grand and powerful Wandering Wolf,” the

  former commander said as all three put a fist together with an open palm

  and bowed.

  “What are we dealing with here?” Captain Cirera asked.

  Former Commander Nam picked up the smooth command staff,

  with a flat end so as to push the pieces around, which lay across the

  table and pointed at the pieces on the map.

  “Our initial forces numbered 200,000, after a few months

  of clashes we are down to 120,000 with 50,000 reserves expected to

  arrive within a few weeks. On the Lumerian side, they began with an army

  of 250,000 and our current estimates number them at 200,000 remaining.

  Their assaults are aggressive, and we’re taking heavy losses, but we’re

  holding them back.”

  Captain Cirera turned to face his command staff, mostly ignoring the three outer elders.

  “Alright, the sect is out-numbered, and they’re gradually

  being worn down. Make no mistake, our mission here is not to be simple

  reserves in this battle. The sect leadership has decided that given the

  current state of things, it’s time to move on to the next phase of this

  war. This northern front is a powder keg, and we are the spark that will

  light this entire war ablaze! The army will step back, and we will

  assault the Lumerian army with everything we got. We will whittle down

  their numbers as much as we can in as short amount of time as we can. It

  won’t be long until their elite units get deployed. We will weaken

  those elite forces here on the northern front and push the right wing to

  flank enemy’s main force. At that point, they will handle the rest and

  our mission will be complete.”

  As the sun rose over the hill on the horizon, the horrors of the battles were made visible again.

  The mortal army prepared as usual. Under the orders of

  the commanders, they got into formation on the battlefield once again.

  This time, however, unlike the many other mornings over the last few

  months of war, there were mercenaries hidden within their numbers. One

  division of the corps stood amongst the left wing of the northern front,

  another on the right. Among the central army stood both the White Fang

  and the captain’s unit. Some of the sect’s disciples were among the

  mercenaries as well, mostly for show so the sect could hype themselves

  up later.

  When the enemy forces began their assault, the captain

  called out. Within moments, the many mages of the Wandering Wolves Corps

  and a few sect mages sent out waves of magical attacks. Fireballs,

  lightning strikes, and sinkholes tore into the 200,000 soldiers of the

  Lumerian army.

  Most of the Lumerian divisions weren’t part of the

  assault, of course, many stood in reserve formations behind those

  charging. Still, tens of thousands were killed in the initial attack.

  The magic barely had time to settle before the others charged into the Lumerian lines.

  Sebastian used his [Fleeting Cloud Step] to dash into the

  middle of the enemy formation. As he landed, he slashed his sword in a

  circle around him and surged his [Crescent Cloud Slash]. It spread out

  wide around him, almost in a full circle. When it dissipated, hundreds

  of mortals lay dead around him. He rushed on and cut down dozens with

  each swing using his [Cloud Shadow Slash]. All around him, hundreds of

  others from the Wandering Wolves Corps and disciples of the Profound Sky

  Sect did the same.

  Safi and a few of the other lowered leveled struggled a

  little. Not with the mortal soldiers so much but with navigating the

  chaos.

  Technically, there wasn’t a big difference between what

  he did here to what he did back in the bandit camp. He massacred weaker

  opponents like nothing. Mentally, however, it was night and day. There

  was no spark of joy from cutting down these men. It just felt empty.

  Like a child turning a magnifying glass to a group of ants.

  Sebastian knew that these were living human beings, with

  families and lives to return to. In the moment, in the chaos of the

  battle, however, none of that mattered. They were just blades of grass

  to be mowed down, and he did so, mechanically.

  There wasn’t more than a few handfuls of seconds of delay, less than a minute to be sure between the initial magical attacks to the sound of retreat from the

  Lumerian commanders. In that time, and the short time it took for the

  orders to reach everywhere, a good quarter of the Lumerian mortal forces

  were lost.

  They didn’t bother chasing them down. Lumeria had elite

  forces of their own and those were best faced with order and structure.

  The assault wound down when fireballs from Lumeria’s side rained down

  toward them.

  Sebastian felt just how restricted he was by his limited

  repertoire of Skills and Techniques. He didn’t have anything to counter

  or properly block them. So his only options was to take them head on. He

  bent his knees and launched himself up toward the fireball poised to

  strike down directly on his unit. While in mid-air, he circulated his

  essence and activated his [Stone Skin]. He slashed his sword vertically

  at the fireball. The slash ended up doing next to nothing. He took it

  straight to the face and was pushed back down to the ground.

  Fortunately, whoever cast the fireball wasn’t of a high enough level to

  actually hurt him.

  Up above, in between fireballs and other magical attacks, Captain Cirera suddenly clashed with the Lumerian General.

  It was like a MOAB had detonated in the sky. Most of the

  mortal forces fleeing in the distance were pushed into the ground by the

  shock wave, if not killed outright. Among the elite forces on both

  sides, only those over level 40 managed to fully resist the blasts.

  Neither of the two wanted to cause any friendly fire, so they moved

  farther away with each clash.

  Vice Captain Sellar faced the Lumerian army’s only

  second-in-command. Their clashes shook the battlefield, but it was

  nowhere near as bad. He always knew that Enric Sellar was powerful, but

  seeing the man who usually looked like your average dad, beer gut and

  all, fight with all his might was a sight to behold. Chains were wrapped

  around his arms, and he swung his fists like a berserk boxer. The

  clashes weren’t quite as eye-catching as the captain’s but occasionally

  there were blasts like cruise missiles rocking the battlefield.

  Lumeria’s army had more elite soldiers, but they were

  gradually being worn down. Even though they out-numbered the mercenaries

  and the sect disciples almost 3 to 1, few of them were actual warriors.

  Lumeria drafted anyone and—almost—everyone over level 30. Few of them

  had proper Combat Skills. The Wandering Wolves Corps, however, only

  recruited those who could hold their own in a fight.

  THRUM

  The battle was interrupted by a ray of bright light

  striking the left wing. The vice captain of the second division and most

  of his lieutenants survived but of the regular members, only those

  lucky enough to not be struck by the blast survived. Their numbers were

  cut in half in a single strike. A temporary silence fell on the entire

  battlefield. Not even the Lumerian soldiers had expected such an attack.

  Sebastian used his heightened senses to trace the origins of the ray of light.

  In the distance, but approaching fast, was a platoon of

  as many 5,000. They carried flags and banners of a glowing sun. Four men

  led the charge. Four men that Sebastian recognized instantly. Heroes.

  The Divine Light had arrived early, and unexpectedly, they came directly to the northern

  front.

  Thanks for reading!

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