Beyond the Apocalypse
Chapter 365: Falling from the sky

Chapter 365: Falling from the sky

Grand Marshal Anglius struggled to steady his breath as he gazed upon the sole passage of the Molted Range—the mountain range that once marked the border between the Asani Continent and the Monsoon Continent, now the primary battlefield between the Xaos Kingdom and the Leviathans.

Black blood was everywhere, so much of it that it had soaked the ground beneath him. Huge spikes littered the area, and mountains of Leviathan corpses were being consumed by flames, sending waves of smoke and ash into the sky. Yet the golden giant paid no heed to the gruesome scenery; he was too preoccupied, searching for a way out of their current predicament.

His eyes swept over the battlefield, and a solemn expression crept onto his face as he took in the state of the Golden Wave Legion and the Turkin soldiers. Overwhelming exhaustion was etched onto every face, and the reason was clear: the Leviathans.

The enemy had been attacking non-stop for months, but it wasn’t the overwhelming onslaught of two million creatures they had faced before—drones now made up the bulk of the Leviathan attacks. These drones weren’t particularly strong, and regular soldiers could handle them, but there were other challenges.

Thousands of drones appeared every few hours, crossing the narrow path. The incursions weren’t meant to overwhelm the defenders or breach Turkin territory. The Leviathans knew they couldn’t accomplish that with such limited numbers. Instead, they had a simpler, more insidious goal: draining the soldiers’ stamina.

The drones used tactics designed to maximize their impact while minimizing their losses. They attacked in irregular patterns—sometimes three times in a single day, other times waiting long enough for the soldiers to relax before launching a sudden assault. Each wave was timed to prevent the defenders from getting adequate rest. The drones avoided full engagement, using hit-and-run tactics that forced the soldiers to stay on constant alert.

Additionally, the drones used the terrain to their advantage. They retreated into narrow crevices or scaled the steep sides of the pass, making it difficult for the soldiers to pursue without overextending themselves. Sometimes, smaller groups would feign attacks on one flank, drawing forces away before a more significant strike elsewhere. The unpredictability of their movements kept the soldiers on edge, mentally and physically exhausting them.

While the soldiers did receive Origin Force for each kill, the Plane Will considered each drone so weak that the amount granted was negligible—too little to make any real difference, despite the thousands they had slain.

The continuous combat yielded minimal rewards, further sapping the defenders’ morale. Killing drones had become so routine that it began to feel inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, making their efforts seem futile.

Although their numbers hadn’t significantly diminished, Grand Marshal Anglius knew how dire the situation had become. Even with their superhuman stamina and resilience, the soldiers were exhausted. If a true Leviathan incursion occurred now, they wouldn’t be able to endure it.

More soldiers would allow the forces to take shifts and provide relief, but Anglius understood that the rest of the Xaos Legions were under Overlord’s command, securing the kingdom’s borders—a crucial task to prevent them from being caught off-guard during the war with the Leviathans.

As he pondered their predicament, Anglius turned his gaze to a young woman meditating in the distance. A deep respect filled his eyes. If it hadn’t been for Freya, who had repeatedly marched deep into the Leviathan hive to disrupt their momentum, things would be much worse. The Viking princess had played a key role in weakening their enemy’s supply lines and destroying critical nodes in their network, putting herself in great danger. Yet even her relentless efforts couldn’t hold back the tide forever.

"Ahhhh," Grand Marshal Anglius exhaled softly, making sure no one heard it. Even in dire times, he had to maintain control, focus, and absolute strength—for he was the pillar upon which thousands of soldiers relied. Any sign of weakness could have catastrophic effects on their morale.

He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing his mind a brief respite. Since there was no clear solution to their problem, the best he could do was rest, letting his body recover as much strength as possible before the next wave of drones arrived.

Unfortunately, not even an hour had passed since the last wave when the ominous sound of pincers clinking against the ground echoed through the air. A dark mass approached from the distance. The Turkin soldiers couldn’t hide their frustration and anxiety; they hadn’t recovered and were too exhausted to fight. Even the elite soldiers of the Golden Wave Legion, trained under Overlord’s guidance, wore complex expressions—the exhaustion had simply become too much.

Grand Marshal Anglius could see the fear and doubt flickering in his soldiers’ eyes. He understood their emotions, but he couldn’t allow weakness to take root. Just as he was about to shout orders, his eyes widened. His worst fears had been realized: a full-power incursion was approaching.

The Leviathans’ strategy had been effective. By wearing down the soldiers with relentless, smaller attacks, they had set the stage for a larger offensive when the defenders were at their weakest. The approaching wave wasn’t just composed of drones this time. Nearly half of the force was made up of aerial drones, and several dozen insect-humanoids marched alongside them.

The number of Leviathans wasn’t as staggering as the two million they had faced before, but it was still formidable—over one hundred thousand strong. The reduction in normal drones was expected, given how many had been used as cannon fodder in the previous months. However, the power of this incursion remained immense. The aerial drones were as powerful as Champion demons, capable of devastating attacks from above, and the insect-humanoids were even more dangerous, combining brute strength and tactical intelligence.

Freya immediately rose from her meditation and dashed toward the golden giant. Their eyes met, and in that brief exchange, an unspoken understanding passed between them. Freya’s leadership skills had grown significantly in recent years, but she knew that Anglius’s experience was vital in this situation. This was his battlefield, and she would follow his lead.

"Orders, Grand Marshal?" she asked, her voice steady despite the looming threat.

Anglius’s helmet concealed his face, which was fortunate, for he felt a momentary lapse of confidence. His gaze shifted between the incoming hive and the metallic spheres in his hand. As the highest-ranking military officer in the Molted Range, he controlled the Echo Bombs planted across the passage. He could detonate them at any moment, collapsing the passage and halting the Leviathans’ advance. But doing so would also block their access to the Monsoon Continent and blind them to the hive’s movements.

He clenched his teeth, his mind racing. They could have handled a normal wave, but the soldiers were simply too tired to face this new threat. Even if they managed to hold their ground, the casualties would be devastating.

"Dammit!" Anglius growled, his frustration breaking through. He looked down at the metallic sphere, a deep sense of defeat washing over him. It seemed they would have to blind themselves to stop the incursion.

"Grand Marshal, what are your orders?" Freya pressed, concern evident in her eyes.

Before he could respond, a voice crackled through the communicator gem on his wrist. "Do not activate the Echo Bombs. Reinforcements are arriving," Overlord’s voice declared.

Anglius’s eyes widened. Relief and disbelief flooded him. He turned around, expecting to see thousands of soldiers approaching from the distance, but the landscape remained empty.

"Where are they?" he muttered.

"Look to the skies," Overlord’s voice advised.

Just as Anglius tilted his head upward, figures began to appear, descending rapidly from the heavens. They blasted through the smoke clouds that covered the firmament, diving at incredible speeds. Before anyone could fully register what was happening, they slammed into the ground with overwhelming force, generating shockwaves in all directions. Dust and debris clouded the area, momentarily obscuring the newcomers from view.

The soldiers shielded their eyes as murmurs of confusion rippled through the ranks. As the dust settled, awe and wonder etched themselves onto every face. Standing before them were thirty-three towering figures, each over three meters tall, with frames more than double that of an average man.

They were clad in massive, imposing white armor that exuded might and strength. Ornate engravings covered their broad chestplates, shoulder guards, and arms, giving them an almost regal appearance. Those with keen eyes quickly realized that the engravings weren’t merely decorative; they were intricate magic matrices, imbued with unique functions.

The soldiers couldn’t help but try to peer into the eyes of the warrior, but the helmet and narrow visor made it impossible, showing there wasn’t a single opening in his armor. One of the towering figures stepped forward, his aura washing over the soldiers like a tsunami, causing many to gasp as he spoke.

"I am Ned Anark, Captain of the Lords of Horror. We will handle this threat alone."