The Exalt Cultivation Fantasy

Act 3: Empire's Stand - Chapter 560: On Their Last Legs

Act 3: Empire's Stand - Chapter 560: On Their Last Legs

Second by second, minute by minute, the time ticked down. The armies came in droves, surpassing his paltry numbers like a tide crashing onto the sandy shore. Fatigue wracked his weary body as his muscles groaned in exhaustion. Oscar focused entirely on the enemy before him, casting aside the ever-increasing numbness of his failing stamina. The damage he suffered from fighting the three-headed hybrid had healed. However, from the depths of his bones, a faint, dull pain pulsed, coming straight from the marrow.

His training in Reis had strengthened his skin, muscles, and organs. For the past few years, he survived on the gifts it brought him, uplifted by the power it granted. However, the pain from his bones showed the weakness that even he, a perfect Reis user, could not surpass. A way to strengthen the bones never existed. The body was forged to a frightening degree, able to withstand brutal attacks, but the bones still carried the weakness of his former self.

Normally, he would have been fine. But the one attack from the beast sent his bones ringing despite all the defensive spells and techniques he used in advance. He had asked Sevon and Adam long ago about this particular weakness, only to be disappointed by their answer that there was no way to forge the bones like the muscles for Adamasreis. His body was exhausted and bruised within, and his heart still ached at the passing of Uncle Carlson.

Shouting, he forced out the pain to his voice, and the enemy soldiers trembled. His shield, radiant and hard, bashed into the head of another, breaking through their wooden barrier. How much time had passed? He had not a clue. As the pain strained his bones, his joints creaked, and he found his arm slowly slipping, losing its target. Oscar gritted his teeth and poured more power into each blow to make up for the lack of control.

After reaching three paces into the enemy lines, he backed away and went over to a new target marked by Alec, who communicated his instructions from a distance, watching over the battlefield to note down the key points for Oscar to attack. So far, it was working. Each place noted by Alec was in critical danger, the brave soldiers of the empire nearly folding under the enemy's overwhelming assault. He broke the enemy's cohesion, killing several and bringing relief and time to regroup for the disorganized allies. When the enemy could react, he pulled out and flew ahead to the other while the reinvigorated allies retaliated, empowered by his coming.

The losses were piling. These thirty minutes felt like an eternity as, one by one, their forces dwindled. Soon enough, they would simply be overwhelmed by their numbers.

"Captain! Urgent news!" Alec's voice shouted in his ear, and Oscar winced, squinting a part of his eye.

"What is it?" Oscar asked, stepping around with invisible Reis movements and killing off three Exalts. Fred swooped him and chopped off the head of another, always watching his back. Erden bombarded the area with fire along with Emily's spinning earthen cores. Everyone else did their jobs properly. It all seemed fine, so why was Alec so flustered?

"I see enemy reinforcements approaching. Damn. There's no hope now." Alec cursed as Oscar fell back for the others to hold the line. "It's a vast fleet, and I see several golems flying amongst them. We're not equipped to deal with them right now."

"How long until our reinforcements arrive?" Oscar asked. Finally, he got a look at the fleet, his eyes widening inside the helmet. Nothing was held back. Three Excrusiers, a dozen Vorpalares with their sharp tips gleaming from the sunlight, a thousand support ships from low to high class with their guns pointed straight ahead, and battalions of golems dotted the sky like a flock of birds. A massive force. He wondered how exactly they gathered so much.

The thick hulls of the ships gathered the clouds underneath, dyeing them red and black, rumbling with thunder like an incoming storm about to hit Greenwich City. The golems floated by the ships. A dangerous few reached a hundred feet tall, the red mechanical eyes shifting around until they locked forward. Their mighty humanoid figures encased in the thickest armor aimed their Eins at the battlefield.

The worst had occurred. Fear struck the soldiers, their weapons halting for a moment as they stared blankly into the vastness of the enemy, and they lost ground rapidly, culled down like wheat to the sickle.

"Ten minutes. But even if they did make it now, I don't see how we can hold on. It's regrettable, but retreat is the answer." Alec urged.

Oscar turned to Celestina, who glared hatefully at the enemy fleet. Blood dripped from her bitten lips and tightened grip, a few droplets slipping down to the end of her rapier. The decision was up to her. Whether they retreated or not was her choice. The rest of the Marshal Exalts, Robert Raeven, General Krauss, Charles, and more, grouped around her in a defensive stance. Deep in his heart, he understood her grief since retreating meant abandoning more civilians, something she opposed in the early days of the war.

"Captain?!" Alec called out. "Captain, we need to fall back."

"It's up to her. For now, we do what we can to save as many as possible. Have our lines retreat several paces; let the remaining ships fire upon the gaps to stall the enemy until we reach a better position." Oscar ordered, and Alec, despite the worried tone, agreed.

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"All force!" Celestina shouted. "Retre–"

Her words were cut off by the sound of a hundred cannons nonstop, all corners of the battlefield hearing the explosive bursts. Surprisingly, it came not from the enemy fleet but from behind. He already knew the rhythmic sound of the gunfire and turned toward Greenwich City. Beyond the barrier, from the inner regions of the empire, a small black sun rotated, constantly lit up by red flares of gunfire down its spherical form. Countless ships had been connected into the single structure Gol-4 loved, the Garantulem.

This one had far superior ships than the one he used years ago to breach the enemy's blockade, so its potency was without question. The endless bombardment crashed into the enemy fleet. Fire erupted from the steel hulls, fanned by the flames of others. In groups, they burned and engulfed the ships, leaving the charred remains to fall. Everyone cheered. Celestina shed tears and confidently gave a new order, "Fight on!"

"UOOH!" Now, the enemy held the fear that once infected them. Still, there was only one Garantulem against the vast fleet. The enemy quickly regained their bearings and fought back. Despite the overwhelming difference, even with Garantulem's arrival, Oscar smiled, for there was a presence that made itself known. He hadn't felt this presence in such a long time, but whenever it appeared, he knew he was safe, a deep relief washing over his tired bones.

"You're here, Master?" Oscar chuckled.

Standing above the battlefield, Draven, his master, hovered with his hands behind his back, the elegant stance he always used. His helmet covered his face, but Oscar could tell there was nothing but contempt and anger spilling from the dark visors. Their gazes met. Draven thumped his chest, and Oscar did the same. Yes, his master was here. All would be well now. That was the message he got from his master's greeting.

Draven released the Kraken Anima and descended onto the battle of the Marshal Exalts. The enemy reacted quickly and desperately retreated, uncaring of the forces they left behind. However, a few could not escape his master's wrath, and Oscar shuddered at how his master reduced them into sagging piles of meat hanging from the bones. Draven dove straight into the high-class fortress airship, puncturing through its barrier as his Kraken split it apart easily, the spatial element devouring everything in the tentacles' path.

Oscar gripped his shield, excited to leap into the battle with his master. He readied himself to charge in when more reinforcements arrived from Garantulem. These reinforcements took him by surprise, and he welled up in delight. Rows of golems floated in formation, raising their hands as Ein released into a shockwave that decimated the enemy's front lines. The unit of golems then charged into the fray.

"It took a long time, Oscar. And a lot of resources. But these golems were worth it." Aunt Rosett said, floating down. Her pink hair ignored the breeze, staying fixed in place, and her smile put him at ease. "Those blueprints were so complicated. Did you know your master pushed Garantulem himself to make it go faster? I swear that maniac…" A hint of pride came out in her tone near the end.

"Aunt Rosett…thank you for forging them, and give my thanks to the Cauldron Lord. Now, we can hold Greenwich City." Oscar bowed. "The barrier is quite weak, but a few good repairs should have it up and ready."

"Oscar…we're not holding here." Aunt Rosett grimaced, her scarred cheeks twisting slightly.

"Not holding here?" Oscar stuttered. "But about the regions around Greenwich? What about the enemy right at our doorsteps?" His home was burned down, but his parents' graves were still there. He could not leave them to the enemy.

"Focus on the battle for now. I'll tell you later." Aunt Rosett sighed, slumping her shoulders. Seeing her dejected state, he held back his words and joined the golems in battle. After ten minutes, the rest of the reinforcements arrived: two other Garantulems and hundreds of ships. The day was won. Oscar watched the enemy slip away to their fleet, which held its position, not moving an inch forward.

He flew over to Garantulem and entered the main ship in the center, an Excrusier. A war council was scheduled within the fortress in the center, and Oscar, one of the main captains, had to attend. He nodded to his master, who approached his side and silently clasped his shoulder. Comfort warmed his body, and he stood back to watch the proceedings by his master's side.

"I heard about the downfall of Orbis and how you wrangled up the survivors. Well done." Draven praised in whispers. "I am proud of you, my disciple."

"Thank you, Master. But we still lost Orbis. Do you know what is going on?" Oscar asked, wondering if his master knew the answer.

A loud bang shook the floor. Celestina stomped her feet, clearly angered, and pounded the table, splitting it in two. She panted, clear beads of sweat dripping down her wrinkled forehead. Whatever news she received was certainly an unpleasant one. She shouted out at Aunt Rosett, who remained calm, "How the hell did we lose our borders!"

"The reports mention the same as Orbis. A vast tide of beasts led by unknown insects broke apart our defenses at three key locations, including Orbis. The enemy also suffered losses, but once the beasts cleared away, they all rushed into our inner regions." Aunt Rosett sighed. "We lost several territories and cities already. Your father has ordered a complete retreat."

'That woman!' Oscar screamed internally. Sirsi never mentioned there was more than one Velfen and that the other borders suffered the same fate.

"Are we truly at dire straits?" Celestina clenched her hair.

"We lost Arkenen City and Delvar Fort, and the renewed Thousand Storm Palace and Emerald Hydra Empire are ravaging the lands. The same goes for the Bellariach Mountains. The Earth Core Academy and Black Tortoise Empire broke through Frostveil City and delved deeper inside." Aunt Rosett took out a blue envelope with a red wax seal of an impaled dragon. "It's time."

"Wyrmir?" Celestina said in a heavy tone. "If we lost that, we're truly lost." She stared around the room and ordered, "Everyone gather your soldiers and rations, and help the civilians into Garantulem and the airships. We're heading for Wyrmir."

"Yes!" Everyone bowed except for Draven. Oscar only knew one thing about Wyrmir—the oldest and last line of defense. Only two years until the end of the Primanomachy…he wondered if they could survive until then.