Janus City lies right at the center of the Century continent. Amidst bustling streets and closely packed rooftops, the massive white stone royal castle stands out prominently with its soaring spires, affirming its position as the center of power for the entire kingdom.
Inside the top-secret meeting room, the atmosphere is somewhat tense.
King Aurelius sits at the head of the table. Right beside him is Zephyr, the duke governing the western region, wearing his usual calm expression. On the opposite side is Ignis, the duke of the southern region. Around the long table are several high-ranking officials and military generals.
"Report the situation, Ignis" Aurelius speaks, his fingers tapping lightly on the tabletop.
"The elves on Elvoria's side are stirring and gathering troops. Another skirmish will definitely break out today" Ignis's projection replies.
"Do you think our current forces are enough to overwhelm them?"
"The situation between both sides remains in a stalemate" Ignis crosses his arms, shaking his head. "We won't lose, but with our current numbers, we can't drive them off the island either"
Aurelius leans back, resting against his chair with a pensive expression. The room falls silent for a few seconds as the king weighs his next moves.
"For now, let's wait for intelligence from the network Terra planted in Elvoria" Aurelius states decisively. "We need to know their true resolve in this matter"
"If Elvoria is merely probing and has no intention of committing all their forces to fight over that island, Zephyr's forces will enter the fray to settle things once and for all"
Zephyr merely gives a slight nod, adding no further words.
"On the contrary, if they truly wish to spark an all-out war between the two continents, we will withdraw our troops and yield" Aurelius declares, his gaze sweeping across everyone present in the room. "Omnimite is precious, but it is not worth a full-out war"
On this continent, Omnimite is regarded as the highest-tier mineral. It is a flawless energy conductor, an indispensable component for crafting high-grade magical artifacts, enchanted weapons, or communication devices like the one resting on the meeting table. The unique trait driving various powers to frantically hunt for Omnimite lies in its nature. This ore only forms in places with extremely dense mana concentrations, and as long as the surrounding environment maintains that abundant mana supply, the ore veins automatically regenerate after being mined. In other words, an Omnimite mine is an endless treasure trove.
Not long ago, a fisherman blown off course by a storm accidentally discovered an uncharted island and immediately reported it to the authorities. When the royal survey team set foot on the island, they were stunned to find that nearly its entire geological structure contained massive Omnimite veins. Secret mining operations were swiftly deployed.
However, the island's location sits right in the contested waters bordering the Century continent and Elvoria. News of the self-regenerating ore mine quickly reached the ears of the elves. Given Omnimite's immense economic and military value, Elvoria naturally refuses to stand by and watch Century monopolize it. Sporadic clashes began breaking out on the island, and their scale grows larger with each passing day.
Back in the meeting room, an official seated at the far end of the table raises his hand to voice a question.
"Your Majesty, I have a proposal. What are your thoughts on sending a letter requesting the ducal house of Eclipse in the North to mobilize a portion of their forces for this campaign? There is no need for the Duchess to appear in person, rumor has it that the mere presence of a single elite squad under that family's command is enough to make the elves tread carefully"
The entire room instantly falls dead silent. Several veteran generals cast sidelong glances at the young official, their eyes filled with both pity and amusement.
Aurelius does not get angry. On the contrary, the king bursts out laughing, a low chuckle laced with realistic sarcasm. He leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table.
"Since you were only recently transferred to the privy council, there are unspoken rules in this kingdom you have yet to grasp"
"We cannot order a dragon to bend to our will. It acts only when it wants to, and solely for its own benefit"
The king shrugs, a hint of helplessness flashing in his eyes. "Truth be told, the fact that the Eclipse family still pays their annual taxes to the royal family in full is already a massive success for me. Do not expect anything more"
In terms of mobilizing military might for external conquest, Century likely ranks among the weakest continents. On paper, Aurelius's dynasty unites the entire continent, yet in reality, the royal family can only freely command resources from three-quarters of the territory. The remaining quarter in the North is almost completely isolated, silent, and detached from all political games of the royal court.
Yet, the irony lies in the fact that this very fragmentation turns Century into an impregnable fortress. No foreign power dares recklessly launch an all-out war onto Century's mainland. Everyone understands that once the flames of war reach the border of that silent quarter, the slumbering monster in the North will awaken. And when that happens, every invader will be crushed without facing a single obstacle.
—
The nameless island sits isolated amidst turbulent waters. Ferocious white-capped waves roar continuously, crashing straight against dark jagged rocks before shattering into white foam.
The air on the island is thick with the sharp, fishy stench of sea salt, mingled with the suffocating bloodlust radiating from two armies arrayed against each other. The battlefield terrain is a wide, relatively flat stretch of coastline. Directly behind the shifting sand lie steep, craggy stone cliffs housing Omnimite veins that emit dull ripples of mana.
A deep, heavy horn sounds, tearing through the roar of the ocean waves.
The armies of the Century continent and the Kingdom of Elvoria officially clash on the sand.
On humanity's frontline, heavy-armored knights swiftly lock together into a solid wall of steel shields. They roar, using overwhelming physical strength and heavy longswords to sweep forward, compressing the enemy's room to maneuver.
Conversely, the elven warriors of Elvoria opt for agile combat. Clad in light leather armor, they dart swiftly like phantoms through the gaps in the formation. Bowstrings snap incessantly. Volleys of mana-infused arrows slice through the wind, aiming precisely at the joints of the human knights' armor.
Steel clashes harshly against steel. Fresh blood begins to spill, soaking into and staining the churned-up sea sand crimson beneath trampling boots.
While the frontlines are locked in fierce deadlock, low-tier mana users in the rear ranks of both sides simultaneously join the fray. Blazing fireballs, ice lances, and dozens of wind blades fill a corner of the sky, tearing apart the infantry formations.
Defensive mages strain continuously, erecting faint barriers of light to shield their comrades. However, beneath the relentless barrage of magic, those shields hold for mere seconds before cracking and shattering like glass.
This bloody equilibrium drags on until the two strongest figures on the battlefield decide to make their move. Among the forces stationed on this island, each side possesses only a single mage who has reached Tier 5.
The Tier 5 mage on Elvoria's side steps onto a large boulder, his slender hands sweeping through midair. Dozens of green magic circles instantly materialize, interlocking to form a complex structure.
The sea breeze abruptly shifts direction. A storm of razor-sharp leaves screams down from the sky. At the same time, the sand beneath Century's army trembles violently. Massive, thorny tree roots erupt from the ground, tightly coiling around and crushing a group of heavy-armored knights charging forward. Agonizing screams ring out briefly before falling silent.
Refusing to let the opponent seize the upper hand, Century's Tier 5 mage immediately counterattacks. He slams his wooden staff hard into the sand, activating a blazing red magic array spanning dozens of meters.
The ground splits open. A colossal, fiercely burning wall of stone surges upward, halting the elves' razor-sharp storm of leaves. The very next instant, the stone wall detonates in an earth-shattering explosion, firing hundreds of molten magma fragments like a meteor shower straight toward Elvoria's formation.
The elven mage furrows his brows slightly, hastily pulling back his offensive. He spins around, erecting a multi-layered vortex barrier enveloping his frontline. The magma shards strike the swirling currents and deflect off course, plunging into the sea and sending up billowing columns of white steam.
The shockwave from the collision of the two Tier 5 skills sweeps across the beach, kicking up blinding clouds of sand and dust. The vision of soldiers on both sides is completely obscured for a brief moment.
Amidst the chaotic dust and smoke at the edge of the battlefield, a mysterious figure silently appears, completely detached from the clash of both factions.
This individual wears a loose, dark outfit covering them from head to toe. Over their face sits a black mask devoid of facial features, concealing their entire appearance and hair color, leaving no identifying marks whatsoever.
The space around the mysterious figure warps eerily. They do not run, instead continuously teleporting from one blind spot to another without making a single sound.
They suddenly materialize right behind a group of elven warriors locked in combat. A sharp streak of energy flashes from their hand, slicing across the throats of three elves in the blink of an eye. The angle of the strike is so intricate that the surviving elven warriors nearby immediately mistake it for a ruthless sneak attack by the human knights in front of them.
Just a breath later, space flashes again. The masked figure has teleported to the rear of Century's army. Raising a hand, they launch a stream of dark magic cleverly disguised in the shape of an elven mana arrow, piercing the throat of a healing mage bowing down to tend to the wounded.
These ruthless covert strikes rain down on both sides like buckets of oil poured directly onto a raging fire. Soldiers of both Century and Elvoria simultaneously lose all reason, descending into a state of sheer frenzy and extreme hatred.
What began as a probing skirmish immediately escalates into a merciless, bloody slaughter.
After each person falls to their ambush, the mysterious figure pauses in a hidden corner atop a high crag. They slowly extend their right hand toward the dying bodies writhing on the sand below.
From those bodies rapidly draining of life, a faint, chilling wisp of smoke is forcibly yanked outward. The tendrils of smoke curl through midair, drifting silently toward the crag before being drawn straight into their open palm.
The mysterious figure tilts their head slightly, their gaze behind the mask directed toward the empty air beside them as though listening intently to someone speaking. Clenching their hand shut, they draw the newly harvested cold aura deep inside their body.
They continue teleporting around the battlefield several more times, repeating this bizarre ritual. Yet, the moment they land on a rock near the water's edge, the mysterious figure's steps abruptly halt.
They stand motionless, their body stiffening slightly before muttering softly to themselves amidst the frantic screaming around them.
"What do you mean by telling me to stop?"
The empty space beside them seems to respond with something. The masked figure startles, their voice turning sharp and hurried.
"You don't have time to expla-"
Their words cut off abruptly mid-sentence. Their eyes behind the mask widen, staring blankly out toward the vast expanse of the sea.
They are not alone.
Across the entire battlefield, everyone, whether mid-swing with a sword or straining to cast a spell, freezes all at once. An invisible, suffocatingly heavy and freezing pressure has just descended upon the entire island. Driven by the most primal survival instinct, hundreds of pairs of eyes turn simultaneously toward the ocean.
The ferocious roaring waves from moments ago have completely vanished. The surface of the sea is terrifyingly flat, pitch-black like a giant mirror reflecting the gloomy sky.
Directly above those still waters, space is torn apart. A crimson portal materializes hovering in midair, radiating an aura that overrides all laws of nature.
From within the blazing red portal, a silhouette slowly steps out.
Absolute silence blankets the entire island.
Thud. Thud.
The sound of knees hitting the sand rings out in rapid succession. Every soldier on both sides involuntarily drops to their knees on the ground, not a single soul able to resist that crushing weight. Even the two proud Tier 5 mages of Century and Elvoria are drenched in sweat, their legs trembling before buckling completely onto the sand, their faces pale with terror.
No one dares raise their head. No one dares breathe loudly or make any unnecessary movement.
Celeste Comet Eclipse has arrived.