Round 27: The Empire’s Attack (II)

If Forty-Seven had been any closer to Fado and the others, he would have seen the druids forming a circle around the thickest and strongest ancient tree, casting spells. Vivid light of a pale green hue flowed into the tree from all directions—light no less powerful than the strongest restoration spells, each drop capable of saving a life on the brink. Yet as thousands of such lights poured into the giant tree, it began to grow wildly, at the expense of other trees.

Finally, the tree moved. Fado and the other druids scattered in dismay, avoiding the numerous roots that erupted from the ground. Thick branches and roots twisted together, along with cracked sections of the trunk, to form massive limbs, while numerous growths on the upper part of the trunk created a face-like structure. From the cracks in it came a roar akin to the wind sweeping through the forest—a sound so loud it seemed to shake the entire forest.

Magician Agus’s attacks followed the roar—mostly fire spells. Flying fireballs and walls of flame instantly surrounded the giant tree man, setting it alight with crackling sounds. The tree man roared in fury, blowing out the flames with a moist mist. Still carrying unextinguished fire, it stepped out of the forest into the open ground, grabbing a dead tree in its path and swinging it at a black-iron giant, knocking it down in one strike, with half of its body sinking into the ground.

Agus’s soldiers retreated. No matter how sturdy their armor, it was useless against the tree man’s immense strength. A paper cutter might not be able to damage an iron box, but stepping on it would usually crush it. Only three black-iron giants remained to fight the tree man, but their sledgehammers had little effect on it. Though each strike sent up chunks of wood and bark, the tree man paid no attention, as it had no bones or internal organs. Protected by the forest, its wounded parts continued to heal. The tree man swung its trunk at the steel structures with a loud “thud,” generating deafening sound waves. The magicians of Agus used flight or featherfall spells to dodge, but one mage was hit by flying wood chips, disrupting his protective magic. Dozens of arrows rushed at him instantly, and two of them pierced through his shield to strike him—enough to end it.

It seemed the people of Agus could no longer hold on. That was what Forty-Seven and Fado thought, looking at the incredibly powerful tree man.

The tree man raised its trunk again, ready to strike. By now, it was almost half its original length. Earlier, it had smashed one of the giants three times in a row, then stepped on it, reducing it to scrap.

Suddenly, Forty-Seven heard a buzzing sound approaching from afar—Agus’s flying vehicles!

It was indeed Agus’s flying vehicles. Apparently, the magicians of Agus had summoned them, just as ground forces called for air support.

Five flying vehicles formed an attack formation and rushed forward quickly.

The tree man also raised its head, tilting its body slightly, looking confused at those strange things in the sky.

These aircraft were different from the one that was shot down forty-seven times; their design was more streamlined, resembling enlarged dragonflies or locusts. Only a mage in white robes rode on them, with four steel wings vibrating at high speed to generate power as they dove downward. As the aircraft dispersed, five dark green deadly beams struck the tree man from various angles. Two of the beams had no effect, but the other three caused severe damage—where the beams hit, the flesh instantly rotted into dust and spread over a wide area. The tree man’s arm holding the trunk was severed from his body, and half of his waist was damaged, almost broken. The five aircraft circled the clearing once, dropping many ceramic balls into the forest. One of them landed right next to forty-seven and exploded, emitting a blinding flash and shockwave—he recognized this as a doubt bomb. Fado was lucky enough to be unharmed, but she bit her lip in despair after seeing her companions suffer under the attack of the doubt bombs—It’s over! The five aircraft lined up again and flew in a circle back, preparing to launch a second attack on the tree man, who was frantically waving his single arm. They were determined to take control of this stronghold—once the construct mage tower was built, it could serve as a new forward command post. On one of the aircraft, Mage Agus was aiming the dissociation wand at the target when he suddenly heard a buzzing sound approaching rapidly from behind. At first, he just cursed under his breath, thinking his colleague was flying too close and might crash into him. But the next thought made his heart tighten—wasn’t he the last one in the formation? Then who was behind him? He didn’t have time to look back. Forty-seven landed on his aircraft, his giant sword slicing through his neck and piercing the fuselage, sparking and spraying blood. Then he pushed off with his legs, causing the aircraft to fall along with the mage’s head, while he jumped away. The steel black wings on forty-seven’s back vibrated like those of an aircraft. This was a ability he had acquired from a crashed reconnaissance plane. The core remnants within him seemed to have an innate ability to absorb such constructs—This was originally mine, forty-seven thought irrationally, feeling justified. The now-transformed hand cannon unleashed deadly flames at the tail of the first aircraft. The explosion caused it to lose control, spiraling downward with sticky flames, leaving a beautiful meteor-like trail in the dawn sky. “What is that thing!” Mage Agus on the third aircraft screamed in terror. Before he could react or recall any spells, the chain whip formed from the hand cannon wrapped around the wing and pulled hard downward. This action not only allowed forty-seven to fly higher to chase after the first two aircraft, which had realized something was wrong and were climbing, but also caused the aircraft with only half a wing to crash violently. Forty-seven charged through the air, swinging his sword at his fourth target, but missed, as he had to turn to avoid the dissociation beams fired by the aircraft that had circled behind him—he certainly didn’t want to test whether his body was strong enough to withstand those beams.

The chain whip turned back into a hand cannon, firing two shots in quick succession—this was already its limit.
Seeing the flaming projectiles rushing toward him, the mage chose to abandon his machine and flee. Even with a magic shield, he had no confidence in withstanding those two attacks, whose power seemed almost on par with that of a meteor blast. He was already prepared to use his flight magic—
The arrow piercing his neck made the mage realize three things:
First, not all elves were affected by the bombs.
Second, he needed to prepare defenses against long-range weapons as well.
Third, he was done for.
The survivors who narrowly escaped fled without looking back.
Forty-seven didn’t chase after them but began descending toward the open area—where there were still many damned Agus soldiers.
“Welcome, old friend.”
Uther, alone and seemingly having known of the guest’s arrival all along, greeted him at the village entrance with a warm embrace.
“What brings you here?” he asked with a kind smile. “Old friend, you’re in for a surprise. Two young holy warriors are staying with me, one of them even a knight blessed by the gods… They’ll be delighted to see you. Perhaps you can offer them some guidance during their trials, but that can wait until dawn. In the meantime, let’s go to my room for tea… It’s been a long time since you’ve had tea brewed with water from unicorns, right?”
“Oh?” Anton was slightly surprised to find two holy knights in an elf village, but then he seemed to understand something and smiled. “That’s great news. Old friend, I’ve missed your tea too—I actually wanted to talk to you about something. Let’s go inside and discuss it.”
Uther’s cottage was located high up in the largest ancient tree. From the window, few trees reached such heights. The flowing starlight and moonlight gently illuminated the cottage, as if casting a soft veil over everything inside, making even the misty steam appear crystal clear. Occasionally, a firefly passed by, adding to the beauty.
“You can always find peace of mind here…” Anton held the hot wooden cup, blew on the tea leaves, took a sip, and sighed deeply.
“That’s the work of nature, old friend,” Uther said, his dark brown face still bearing that kind smile. Though he was much older than Anton, at that moment they resembled two old men who had been neighbors their whole lives. “We simply understand and follow nature, so that we can achieve true peace.”
“Yes… When the day comes that I stop adventuring, I might shamelessly ask to retire here with you…” Anton set down his cup, speaking half seriously and half jokingly, but then his tone became serious and solemn. “Old friend, you say following nature is the right path… Then, does using the power of demons also count as following nature?”