Real Mount and Blade Game

The shrieking curse of the collapsing afterimage of Yenogu—"Spirit"
"The curse will eventually fall, and you will all be but kindling!"—A palpable poisonous miasma instantly permeated the already despairing air. The Khergit leader, Alatan Khan, his eyes bloodshot, roared the order to retreat without hesitation, his voice torn by extreme exhaustion and grief: "Protect the commander! Retreat! Retreat now! Leave this cursed land!!"

The remnants of the Allied forces did not hesitate for a moment.

Several blood-soaked Swadian heavy infantrymen rushed forward, forming a barrier with their tattered tower shields and flesh to protect the Rhodok veteran spearman who was carrying Shen Mu. The few remaining knights of the Holy Tree Knights, their armor dull and lifeless, still stood tall, urging on their last vestiges of purifying power to try and dispel the chill and mental impact of the Yenogu curse, providing precious cover for their retreat.

Just as they turned and rushed toward the ominous "wound" at the entrance to the Annihilation Tomb, the sub-plane beneath their feet, composed of the remnants of the Molten Core Realm, let out its final, desperate lament.

Rumble—! Crack—!
As if the giant beam supporting the world had broken, the entire sub-plane began a complete and irreversible collapse.

It is no longer the localized collapse and energy turbulence of the past, but a complete dimensional collapse.

The ground was no longer cracked, but shattered and fell in large shards like fragile glass, revealing the churning chaos and nothingness below. The suspended "Annihilation Tomb" itself trembled violently, its surface cracking open with countless fissures, spewing forth an even more concentrated aura of the "Final Laws." The curtain of residual rules and energy in the sky shattered into countless fragments burning with filthy black light, crashing down with annihilating energy. The newly formed pseudo-divine abominations with "annihilation" attributes around them instantly turned to ashes under the immense power of the spatial collapse. The air was sucked away, and terrifying suction forces surged from all directions, threatening to drag all remaining life into eternal annihilation.

"Run!!!" Alatan Khan's voice was drowned out by the deafening sound of the collapse.

The retreat turned into a desperate escape. Every step was on the shattered ground, with the constant threat of falling into the abyss. Soldiers were constantly struck by falling energy fragments or swallowed by suddenly torn spatial rifts, not even having time to scream. The Khergit scouts used their last bit of mobility, patrolling the outermost perimeter, wary of possible pursuit, but the cost was heavy; scouts and their horses were constantly swallowed by the collapsing earth or the distorted space.

The final few dozen meters leading to the "wound" in the main world became a veritable corridor of death. The remnants of the Allied forces, relying on instincts honed on the battlefield and the will to survive, supported each other, pushing forward with every precious second their comrades had gained with their lives. When the soldier carrying Shen Mu finally crashed into the unstable, blindingly white "wound," the entire sub-plane behind them was utterly distorted, shattered, and swallowed by endless darkness and chaos, leaving only the raging torrents of "end" energy crashing against the edges of the "wound."

The pain of passing through the "wound" was like being skinned alive; the violent spatial tearing and disorder of rules assaulted everyone's body and soul. When they crashed heavily onto the cold, rubble-scarred hillside of the ancestral tomb deep within the city of Long, on the border of the Swadian Kingdom in the main world, the "wound" connecting the annihilated tomb behind them erupted with a chilling burst of light. Then, as if wiped away by an invisible giant hand, it abruptly collapsed and vanished, leaving only a bottomless, charred-edged, terrifying crater emanating a faint yet unsettling aura of "the end." The air was thick with the stench of burning, dust, and the lingering, mixed aura of despair originating from the abyss and the end.

A biting wind howled across the utterly destroyed ancestral burial mound. The once magnificent entrance to the mausoleum was nowhere to be seen, leaving only a black abyss leading to nothingness. The surviving warriors lay sprawled on the cold ground, violent coughs, painful groans, and dazed sobs mingling together. Everyone was wounded, their armor tattered, their weapons broken. The Khergit horse archers, clinging to their last ounce of strength, spontaneously spread out on guard, their bloodshot eyes fixed on the dark pit that seemed to devour souls, and the surrounding desolate forests, equally corrupted by the power of the abyss.

"The Wood Elf Forest!" Alatan Khan coughed up blood and dust, struggling to his feet. His voice was hoarse but carried an undeniable determination. "We can't stop! Take all the brothers who can still move and get back to the Wood Elf Forest stronghold! Quickly!"

There were no grand pronouncements, only the instinct for survival. The lightly wounded helped the seriously wounded, mounted archers who had lost their mounts carried unconscious infantrymen on their backs, and the surviving Rhodok crossbowmen spontaneously formed a rearguard. The group silently and swiftly left the ruins that exuded an aura of "end times," stumbling towards the green forest that represented life and shelter in their memories—the stronghold they had previously established in the Wood Elf Forest on the outskirts of Long City.

Wood Elf Forest Outpost.

The towering ancient trees, like natural city walls, their lush foliage partially obscuring the gloomy sky. The forest was filled with the fresh scent of grass and trees, a stark contrast to the deathly and "end-of-days" atmosphere of the ancestral tomb. But this tranquility was soon shattered.

When this battered and bruised force, as if crawling out of hell, stumbled into the outpost on the outskirts of the stronghold, the few soldiers and wood elves left behind were stunned. After a brief silence, an explosive commotion and shouts erupted.

"Quickly! It's Lord Altan Khan!"

"Commander! What's wrong with the Commander?!"

"Wounded! So many wounded!"

"Make way! Physician! Everyone who knows how to treat this, assemble immediately!"

The outpost instantly erupted in activity. The Wood Elf elder led the tribe's best herbalists and healers out, while the human soldiers and support staff who remained behind rushed forward. The makeshift medical tent was quickly expanded, and clean water, bandages, herbs, and the Wood Elf's unique healing moss were continuously delivered.

"Watch out! The commander's condition is extremely bad!" The soldier responsible for transporting Shen Mu's voice was choked with sobs. Shen Mu was carefully placed in the quietest wooden hut in the center of the stronghold, covered with soft moss and animal hides.

His face was as pale as paper, his breathing was so weak that it was almost imperceptible, and his body was ice cold.

Most chilling was the area between his brows, where an invisible burn mark seemed to linger, and beneath his skin emanated an indescribable, withered luster, like a reflection of the "Primordial Ashes," or a mark eroded by the laws of the "End." The military medic and the wood elf elder, after examining him, both wore extremely grave expressions. His spiritual power was utterly exhausted, his soul severely damaged, and his body on the verge of collapse, clinging to life only by an unimaginable, indomitable will and a faint connection to the mysterious "Primordial Ashes."

The rescue efforts were proceeding against the clock. The seriously wounded were given priority, and the wood elves' natural magic, combined with the human medics' emergency treatments, was used to try to stabilize the most critical injuries.

The stronghold was filled with the smell of herbs and painful groans.

Despite their exhaustion, the Khergit horse archers, under Altan Khan's command, took over all the outer perimeter guard duties of the stronghold, their vigilant eyes scanning every dark corner of the forest. The faint aura of "end times" emanating from the direction of the ancestral tomb hung heavy in the air, like an unyielding ghost, weighing heavily on everyone's hearts.

Time passed slowly amidst the anxiety.

He didn't know how much time had passed. Perhaps it was the ancient life-giving spring of the wood elves that had a soothing effect, perhaps it was the strange balancing power of the "Primordial Ashes," or perhaps it was Shen Mu's own steely will that had finally broken through its limits. He suddenly opened his eyes amidst a violent cough.

"Ugh...!" Intense pain instantly swept through his entire body, especially deep between his eyebrows and in the depths of his soul, as if countless red-hot needles were churning his brain and consciousness. His vision blurred, his ears rang incessantly, and his bones felt as if they had been shattered and then roughly pieced back together. It took him several seconds to barely focus his vision, and all he could see was a simple wooden roof and a faint, green light filtering in from the window.

“…Forest…?” His voice was so hoarse it was like sandpaper rubbing, almost unrecognizable.

"Sir! You're awake!" The military medic standing by rushed to the bedside with joy, his voice trembling. Immediately outside came a burst of hurried footsteps and a suppressed cheer filled with the joy of surviving a disaster.

Soon, Alatan Khan entered, looking weary from his journey and filled with worry. He knelt on one knee before the bed: "Commander! How are you feeling? Thank God, you're finally awake!"

Shen Mu struggled to turn his neck, the excruciating pain causing cold sweat to bead on his forehead, but his eyes quickly regained their clarity and sharpness. He saw the bloodshot eyes and exhaustion in Alatan Khan's eyes, heard the suppressed groans of the wounded outside, and smelled the heavy scent of herbs and blood in the air. The curse of Yenogu, the corruption of the abyss, the collapse of the sub-plane, the aura of "the end," the allure and threat of the merging rules... all the fragments of memories flooded his mind in an instant, like a raging storm.

“Alatan Khan…” Shen Mu’s voice was extremely weak, yet it carried an undeniable air of command, “Report…the…situation…casualties…outpost…status…”

Altan Khan took a deep breath, suppressing his grief, and gave a concise report in the style of a soldier:
"Commander, we have successfully withdrawn. After you destroyed the remnant of Yenogu, that sub-plane... was completely annihilated. The entrance to the Ancestral Tomb... is now just a deep, abyss-like wound, emanating an aura of 'end,' extremely dangerous." "Casualties... are heavy. The Holy Tree Knights... except for a few lightly wounded who remained to guard the stronghold, all members below Commander Kalanzo... perished. Swadian heavy infantry... less than three out of ten survived. Rhodok spearmen... lost more than half their number. Vaegir archers and ballista teams... suffered heavy casualties. Khergit... also lost nearly half their forces. Total strength... reduced by more than 70%."

"The Wood Elves have provided the greatest assistance in securing the outpost. The wounded are being treated with all their might, but... resources are scarce, and the mortality rate for the seriously wounded is very high. The Khergit scouts are on high alert, especially monitoring the direction of the ancestral tomb."

Each number struck Shen Mu like a hammer blow. Kalanzo…those loyal knights…countless faces flashed before his eyes. The intense pain and overwhelming grief made his vision blur; he bit his tongue hard, the metallic taste filling his mouth, forcibly dispelling the dizziness. He remembered Kalanzo sacrificing his life to clear a path for them in the Ashen Corridor, remembered countless warriors turning into white light and merging into judgment under the rule of the lances…

“Yenogu... curse…” he uttered with difficulty, and the ashen face between his brows seemed to flicker for a moment.

“Yes,” Alatan Khan said, a fierce glint and deep worry flashing in his eyes. “‘The spirit world will eventually descend, and you will all become firewood!’ These were its last words. When we left, the aura emanating from the abyss did indeed carry an ominous… summoning feeling.”

The spirit world has descended! Firewood!
Shen Mu's heart sank. This was no empty threat. The rules of fusion between the abyss and the undead, which Yenogu had revealed before his death, revealed a terrifying path to the pursuit of ultimate power.

Although the core of the abyss has been destroyed, its corrupted and twisted tentacles may have opened new and more dangerous passages, or attracted the attention of higher dimensions. The curse of Yenogu may be a coordinate pointing to Earth!

Even more pressing is... this place isn't absolutely safe. Shen Mu suddenly remembered that the core of Longcheng was the very node that once connected reality and the abyss!

Now that the core of the abyss has been annihilated, the ancestral tomb of Longcheng, a "wound" that still retains the aura of the "end," remains. It is like a wound that has not yet healed and may even be used by the "spirit world" or new necromancy.

They had just survived two horrific wars, their strength reduced to a mere fraction, and were at their weakest point. The undead legions entrenched in the ruins of Long City and beyond…

"The undead legion..." Shen Mu's voice was filled with unprecedented solemnity and urgency, as if he had used up all his strength, "They... will never let go of... this opportunity! Be on high alert! Be on high alert!"

He struggled to sit up, the excruciating pain causing him to groan, cold sweat instantly soaking through his undershirt. Altan Khan and the military doctor quickly helped him up.

"Commander! You must rest!" the medic said urgently. He could feel that Shen Mu's body was like a piece of porcelain covered in cracks, which could shatter completely at any moment.

"No!" A resolute flame burned in Shen Mu's eyes, a light that demanded the fulfillment of his duty even at the cost of squeezing out his life's potential. "Help me...up! Convey...the orders!"

With the help of Altan Khan and the military doctor, Shen Mu sat up with great difficulty and leaned against the raised pillows.

Every movement aggravated his injuries and shook his soul, but he stubbornly straightened his back, forcing himself to maintain his composure, and began to issue commands. Though his voice was weak, it clearly reached the ears of every officer who rushed to the scene, carrying an unquestionable authority:
Alatan Khan!

All Kujit cavalry who were able to move, including the lightly wounded, were immediately organized into three squads to expand their patrol area!
In particular, keep a close watch on the "wound" in the abyss of the Longcheng Ancestral Mausoleum! Double the number of sentries, both visible and hidden, on all forest paths and high points leading to the stronghold!

Any abnormal energy fluctuations or unidentified biological activity, regardless of magnitude, should be immediately alerted at all costs! Abandon long-range reconnaissance, consolidate forces, and protect the area within one kilometer of the outpost!

Swadian officers! All infantrymen who can stand, regardless of light or heavy armor, immediately reinforce the stronghold's defenses! Utilize ancient trees to construct palisades, chevaux-de-frise, and traps! Inspect all usable ballistae and spare weapons immediately and deploy them to pre-designated firing positions! Keep watch towers manned around the clock! Raise the stronghold's defense level to the highest level, operating as a wartime fortress! Use all remaining resources to build fortifications!

Rhodok officers! Organize all remaining crossbowmen and spearmen to cooperate with the Swadian soldiers in setting up defenses. You are familiar with the terrain; utilize the forest environment to set up concealed tripwires and spikes along key paths! All remaining crossbow bolts, and any special ammunition, should be allocated first! Your accurate sniping is the last line of defense for the stronghold!
Vaegir officers! Icewind Archer Squad, as a rapid response force, are ready to support any line of defense in crisis! Your freezing abilities are key to combating swarms of undead!
Everyone! Weapons at all times! Armor at all times! During shift breaks, you must remain fully clothed! Be ready for battle at any moment!
Wood Elf Elders and Military Physicians! Concentrate all medical resources, prioritizing the lives of the seriously wounded! Utilize all reserve medicines, including the Wood Elves' secret remedies! The lightly wounded must also be closely monitored for changes in their injuries to prevent infection and worsening. Establish isolation observation areas to prevent potential corruption of energy or undead plague!
Logistics officer! Immediately inventory all remaining supplies: food, water, medicine, arrows, weapons, and fuel! Strict rationing is required! Prioritize the physical well-being of guards and combat personnel! Organize those with remaining strength (including lightly wounded who can move) to gather food, herbs, and water within the safe area of ​​the stronghold! Everything is for survival and combat!
Any rumors or curses regarding the "descendance of the spirit world" are strictly forbidden! Those who disobey will be severely punished according to military law! Altan Khan, you are personally responsible for this matter! Tell the soldiers that we have just purified the core of the abyss and destroyed the remnants of the evil god; victory belongs to us!

Inform all soldiers: The corrupted core of the abyss has been completely purified! The lingering shadow of the evil god has been destroyed! We have won a glorious victory! Temporary weakness is the price of victory, but this forest, this stronghold, is our fortress! The wood elves are our allies! Hold on to hope, hold your posts! Our will is the final wall!

When Shen Mu, panting heavily, finally managed to issue the last command, his face was ashen, and he swayed precariously, as if he might faint again at any moment. The gray mark between his brows trembled violently, conveying an unbearable exhaustion and agony from the depths of his soul. A mouthful of blood welled up in his throat, but he forced it back down.

Altan Khan and his officers solemnly accepted the order, their eyes filled with admiration for their commander's will and deep worry and sorrow. They knew that Shen Mu was burning the last embers of his life to maintain order, hope, and the last line of defense for this remnant army.

"My lord, you..." Alatan Khan's voice choked with emotion as he looked at Shen Mu's eyes, which seemed ready to extinguish at any moment.

"Go...execute!" Shen Mu closed his eyes, squeezing out a few words with all his might. His voice was barely a whisper, yet it carried an iron will. "We cannot... let our guard down... The undead... could... come... at any moment..."

He forcefully concentrated his crumbling mental energy, using the faint remaining embers of the [Tallinn] to spread his will and deep sorrow, like a pebble thrown into calm water, to every corner of the stronghold. Exhausted and immersed in grief, the soldiers, sensing that familiar, though faint, yet incredibly resolute will, instinctively tensed, gripped their weapons, and rallied their spirits. The somber atmosphere within the stronghold was replaced by a tense and oppressive atmosphere of impending battle.

The Wood Elf Forest stronghold, amidst the ruins of two pyrrhic victories against the Abyss Core and the Evil God's Remnant, stood like a reef, eroded by wind and waves yet stubbornly standing tall. The remaining will, rekindled by Shen Mu's relentless, life-or-death struggle, was transformed into a beacon of vigilance. Leaning against the simple wooden bed, Shen Mu's consciousness swirled between excruciating pain and utter exhaustion, but he forced himself to maintain a sliver of clarity. His mental strength, like a flickering candle in the wind, laboriously maintained a faint perception of the stronghold's perimeter, especially the terrifying "wound" in the direction of the Ancestral Tomb Abyss.

Night deepened. The forest night was far from peaceful, filled with the sounds of wind, the howls of wild beasts in the distance, and the groans of the wounded.

The soldiers on the watchtower stared wide-eyed, while Khergit horse archers silently patrolled the shadows. Every dark shadow seemed to harbor a deadly threat. In the direction of the ancestral tombs, the wound of the "end" resembled an unhealed black scar on the earth, radiating an unsettling tremor in the night.

suddenly——

"Woo-woo—!!!" A shrill, ear-piercing alarm, the highest level of alert issued by a specially made Kujit horn, suddenly shattered the silence of the forest!

The sound came from the direction of the "wound" in the abyss of the Longcheng Ancestral Mausoleum! Then came a second, a third sound! Rapid, like the drumbeats of death!

Inside the stronghold, every soldier's heart felt as if it were being gripped tightly by a cold, sticky hand! Alatan Khan suddenly drew his scimitar and charged towards the highest watchtower on the edge of the stronghold like a whirlwind.

Shen Mu, who was lying on the bed, suddenly opened his tightly closed eyes, and a terrifying cold light burst out from the depths of his pupils. He endured the pain that felt like his soul was being torn apart, and his right hand pressed hard on the hilt of the cold longsword beside his pillow!

The direction of the alarm meant that Yenogu's curse was not empty talk; the annihilation of the abyss had not completely eradicated all threats. The undead legion—or perhaps something even more terrifying, drawn by the rules of fusion—had indeed, at their weakest moment, like hyenas smelling blood, silently pounced on this forest that had just been given a chance to breathe! (End of Chapter)