Real Mount and Blade Game

Ariane's deathly white body trembled violently, and the soul fire, originating from the depths of the dead but ignited by extreme resentment and despair, flickered and swayed wildly in its eerie green eye sockets.

The golden light curtain of the thorny ramparts, like a cold and merciless wall of judgment, completely separated it from the human commander inside, whose expression was as indifferent as a stone statue.

It could see the seemingly eternal, all-knowing yet icy calculating light in Shen Mu's eyes. In that gaze, there was no anxiety of allies, no fear of the countdown to destruction, only a cold weighing of options, as if he were observing a game of chess with a predetermined outcome.

The Anhe Legion—the last remaining force of His Majesty the Black Emperor—was torn apart and devoured by the greedy and filthy maw of the abyss, like a candle flickering in the wind, turning into the purest nourishment flowing into the depths of the ancestral tomb.

There, the heart of the "End of the Wolf" beats with a greedy rhythm stronger than the last, like a deformed behemoth about to burst through a filthy amniotic sac, charging wildly toward the terrifying form of the "False God's Abomination".

"Shen Mu!" Arian's voice was no longer the lingering echo of an elven lament, but the sharp, tearing sound of withered bones scraping against the abyssal walls. "You, treacherous and disloyal! What you have seen is but the prelude to the birth of the abomination of the false god of the abyss! When that monstrous offspring truly opens its filthy eyes, your shroud of light, your fortress, all the order and holy light you have believed in will be chewed up by its greedy teeth and merged into the eternal abyss of chaos! The fortified walls will become history! The era of the living will come to an end!"

Its words were filled with vicious curses and dying roars, trying to create a ripple in Shen Mu's frozen heart.

However, what responded to it was Shen Mu's even colder and deeper silence.

Under the protection of the "Bristle Garden," the human army stood ready, their soldiers breathing rapidly yet orderly. Their ranged weapons were always pointed in the direction of the surging abyssal wreckage, but not a single beam of light was fired at the main body of the abyss that was unilaterally slaughtering the undead army—they were like indifferent bystanders, letting their "allies" march toward utter annihilation.

This final scene became the last straw that broke Arian's will to remain neither alive nor dead.

It suddenly straightened its chest—the form barely maintained by magic and necromantic energy—as if making a final charge. Its soul fire abruptly contracted, then erupted with an unprecedented pale light, carrying a resolute roar of annihilation:

"So be it! Since humanity has chosen to stand by and watch, to await death within the shell of holy light, then watch! The remains of the Seventh Dynasty will not be completely erased in silence! We will launch... the true, final... all-out attack! Regardless of the alliance, regardless of you cowardly survivors! For the will of our Lord Anhe! For the purge of the heresy from the very origin of our race! May you remember this moment's 'wisdom' when the womb of the false god's abomination shatters and licks your shells with filthy flames!"

Before the words were even finished, the last bit of power that sustained Erion's existence collapsed instantly, like a sand dune that had been completely drained.

Its body withered and weathered at a visible speed. Its exquisite elven armor lost its luster instantly, as if it had been eroded by millions of years. Its skin turned to dust inch by inch, and its bones broke and shattered with a harsh friction sound.

In the blink of an eye, the once eloquent messenger of the dead, who carried the will of the Black Emperor, vanished completely before Shen Mu's eyes, leaving only a handful of pale bone dust carrying a cold, deathly aura. It was swept up by the chaotic energy currents on the battlefield and merged into this scorched earth soaked in blood and fire, leaving no trace.

The bones scattered, and deathly silence descended. Yet, this silence was not the end, but the final breath-hold before the storm.

Almost at the same instant that Erien turned to dust, the ash mist on the west side of the battlefield, which had become as thin as gauze and was on the verge of collapse due to being devoured by the black mist of the abyss, suddenly erupted without warning!

"Woo-hum-hum!"

A desolate, heavy horn-like sound, yet containing an endless will to destroy, did not come from any specific direction, but resounded directly within the core of that dying gray fog.

That was not a clarion call for the world of the living, but a declaration for the kingdom of the dead, the final swan song before the fall of the Seventh Dynasty!

It overwhelmed the howls of the abyssal wrecks, overwhelmed the shrieks of energy annihilation, and echoed throughout the battlefield before the entrance to the ancestral tomb, impacting every barrier and every rock.

The thick, leaden-gray mist, like a tide of despair surging from the bottom of the endless River Styx, erupted instantly from beneath the remaining piles of bones of the undead legion, from the cracks between every broken bone!
It was no longer the diffuse state it had been in before, but rather a surging torrent like a dam breaking, carrying a fierce will to burn its own existence, and with overwhelming force, it frantically pressed down on the abyss core black domain that shrouded the ancestral tomb!

This gray fog, cold and heavy, carrying the inherent strictness of the dead's order, now displayed unprecedented ferocity!
Arrow rain!

It was a hundred times more intense than any previous time!
It was no longer the previous projectile coverage, but a death ray with a sharp piercing sound!
The arrow, formed from pure ash energy and bone essence, was like a swarm of eerie green locusts tearing through space. Ignoring the inferior corpses blocking its path, it shot precisely, persistently, and with a kind of mad suicidal madness, towards the core of the constantly pulsating "End Wolf Shadow" deep in the ancestral tomb!
Their sharp whistling sounds merged into a torrent of death.

From within the gray fog, no longer the standard skeletal formations of before emerged, but undead with more twisted, more powerful, and more destructive forms!

The "Wailing War Beasts," forcibly pieced together from the corpses of dozens of colossal abyssal beasts, trampled the remains of allies and the mangled remains of the inferior, each step causing the earth to tremble. Their sole mission was to use their massive skeletal bodies to smash and crush any obstacle leading to the ancestral tomb. The "Ghost Knights," their bodies enveloped in eerie green flames of resentment, their skeletal warhorses' eye sockets burning with resolute flames, abandoned their elegant charge, driving their mounts like desperados towards the densest part of the abyss, solely to imprint a single, concentrated strike onto that filthy, rhythmic core. Even the writhing "Skeletal Abominations," forcibly aggregated from the bones of numerous soldiers, rolled and twisted, each head roaring silently, lunging towards the densest area of ​​the abyssal black mist, seeking only to self-destruct before being devoured…

Their charge was completely chaotic, devoid of any defense, driven solely by an extreme desire for destruction!
There is only one target—the "heretic" that is frantically devouring its own kind, accelerating its own transformation, and desecrating Anhe's will and the rules of the necromantic origin—the Shadow of the End!
This force was so reckless, so brutal and resolute, that the Abyssal Corpse troops, which had been crushing the undead legion like a black tide, were actually held back by this sudden torrent of desperation, and were even torn apart in some places! The rhythm of the Abyss Core greedily devouring the remnants of the Seventh Dynasty was interrupted for a moment.

Deep within the ancestral tomb, the pulsating, foul heart of the tomb began to beat with a noticeable slowdown!

On the battlefield, two completely different yet equally destructive forces—the cold, lead-gray necromantic mist carrying the aura of reincarnation; and the filthy, chaotic, and greedily devouring abyssal black mist—engaged in an unprecedented and most violent head-on collision!
The hissing sound of energy annihilation became like countless panes of glass being crushed and shattered at the same time!

Space distorted violently under the collision of the two rule-level forces, groaning under the strain! The black mist frantically tore at the gray mist, trying to devour it and turn it into its own nourishment; while the gray mist burned its own soul fire and skeletal origin, sacrificing itself to coldly cleanse and purify the polluted core of the black mist!
The destructive intent unleashed by both sides far surpassed any previous attack on the human bulwark!
Behind the Thorn Barrier, Major Caranzo, who was in charge of commanding the right flank defense of the Barrier Assault Group, slammed his fist on the metal railing in front of him with a dull thud. His rugged face was filled with shock and an indescribable realization. He roared in the direction of the command center:

"My lord! Look! By the gods... these bone fragments and black mud are fighting! This isn't a death match with us, is it? This gray and black... it's a hundred times more brutal than when they breached the Swadian rebel stronghold! They... they're practically engaged in a life-or-death struggle between mortal enemies separated by ten lifetimes of blood feud! And we, the living, are just spectators?!" He pointed to the core area where gray and black were intertwined and frantically annihilating, his tone filled with absurdity.

The composed Commander Bandak immediately raised his binoculars, carefully observing the core of the most intense energy conflict. His voice was heavy and deep: "It's not 'like' it. Major, the intensity and recklessness of their attacks are on a completely different level compared to all the previous offensives against us. The previous battles were more like clearing obstacles for us. But now... they are devouring each other, hating each other, determined to use their last breath to completely annihilate each other. They... are irreconcilable enemies that each other has decided must be destroyed."

He lowered his binoculars, his eyes beneath the mask sharp as an eagle's, "You can't even feel them paying attention to our presence."

Legolas, the ever-perceptive captain of the wood elves, pursed his lips, runes swirling in his emerald eyes as he focused intently on sensing the raging energy vortex.

His brow furrowed, a rare look of confusion and gravity in his eyes: "My lord... this feels strange, defying common sense. Holy light and death energy are naturally opposed. But now, the cold, orderly, and austere 'rules' contained within that thick gray mist are far closer to a manifestation of primordial order than the chaotic and filthy distortion of the abyss. The abyss is frantically eroding and polluting it, while it is burning itself, violently impacting and 'purifying' the abyss's core through self-destruction. This is more like... purging internal toxins or traitors? Rather than a simple battle between two factions."

His elven perception captured a deeper level of conflict tension, closer to the fundamental rules of the world.

All the eyes of the senior generals, as well as the eyes of many keen-eyed warriors within the Thorn Barrier, involuntarily turned to the calm figure in the core area of ​​the barrier—Shen Mu.

An atmosphere of tension and exploration filled the air.

Shen Mu slowly raised his eyes, which had been fixed on the vortex of destruction. His gaze remained as cold as a blade, sweeping across the two raging torrents of power at the heart of the battlefield, as if piercing through the chaotic energy storm and looking directly into the filthy, pulsating depths of the ancestral tomb.

He didn't even turn around, but his clear, calm voice, like the articulation of a cold truth, pierced through the clamor of the battlefield and reached the ears of every commander with unmistakable accuracy:

"Your perceptions and analysis are correct."

His brief words confirmed the generals' most startling discovery.

Then, he raised his hand and pointed to the core vortex of the gray-black confrontation, each word carrying undeniable precision:
"This is not a simple power struggle, but a deeper level of absolute hostility at the level of rules."

His gaze shifted to the entrance of the ancestral tomb, which resembled a demon's lair: "That leaden-gray mist represents the core rules of the concept of 'the undead'—the cold cycle of reincarnation, the strict order of the dead, and the unshakable fundamental law of the bones returning to their final resting place."

It should have been an existence isolated from life and death, operating in an orderly manner, and undefiled.

Then, his gaze turned to the abyss core that pulsed with greed: "And that filthy black mist is the essential symbol of the 'abyss'—chaos, disorder, the complete distortion, pollution, and greedy dissolution of all structures, laws, and order. Chaos is existence, and disintegration is purpose."

Finally, his cold gaze focused on the ever-growing, foul-smelling core deep within the ancestral tomb: "As for the 'End Wolf Shadow' that is undergoing accelerated transformation there... it is not a pure, foul child naturally born from the abyss."

A cold, sharp smile curved Shen Mu's lips, as if revealing the evil truth of the world's underworld.
"It...is a heretic! A despicable thief!"

His voice was resolute, filled with the judgmental tone of someone who had seen through the very essence of things:

"Its core—the resentment of Nayenogu's divine remains and fragments of shattered divinity—originates from the side of the dead! It should have returned to the cold, ashes, following the strict laws of the undead world. However…" Shen Mu paused, each word like a heavy hammer striking the scales of rules, "It was corrupted and distorted by the abyss! The chaotic power of the abyss, like a filthy branding iron, forcibly imprinted and integrated the cold, rules, and primal power—divine dust and the imprint of order—that belonged to the order of the dead into this core. Then, it was ignited by the greedy, chaotic fire of the abyss! This is the truth behind the birth of the 'End Wolf Shadow'!"

Shen Mu's gaze swept over the shocked faces of the generals, his voice turning as cold as polar ice, carrying a deep-seated hatred at the level of the rules:
"For beings that uphold the fundamental rules of their own world—whether alive or dead—what could be more hateful and unforgivable than an 'existence' that originates from within its own rules but has utterly betrayed, distorted, and desecrated its own fundamental laws, and is now frantically backfiring and polluting itself?"

He didn't wait for an answer; the cold truth was like a pronouncement of judgment:

"Therefore, the battles between them are a thousand times more brutal and relentless than those between us, the 'infidels' from the outside who follow different laws."

Deep within Shen Mu's eyes, the cold, calculating light never dimmed; in fact, it grew even sharper.
"Compared to heretics, heretics are the real, mortal enemies that must be eradicated at all costs!"

The golden light curtain of the Thorn Barrier flowed steadily behind Shen Mu. The holy light seemed to be a protection, but at this moment it was more like a beacon of purity at the center of the destructive storm formed by the fierce collision of rules and heresy.

The human alliance, like a steel torrent poised to unleash its power, remained silent and waited as these two mortal enemies, each capable of destroying the world, faced their final reckoning.

Shen Mu stood with his hands behind his back, unmoved amidst the shrill screams of colliding energy. Only his fingertips, hidden in the light and shadow, moved silently and precisely at the nodes of the invisible [Tallinn] network of rules in a dimension unseen by anyone. Like a web weaver of extreme composure, he patiently awaited the moment when the final, earth-shattering string would be stretched to its limit.

The deathly feast at the eye of the storm continues, and the decisive opportunity is slowly gathering amidst the madness of blood and fire. (End of Chapter)