Things unfolded exactly as Orsaga had anticipated.
Faced with the magical beasts that were devoured almost instantly, and the rapidly escalating losses, it took less than thirty seconds for the people of the Wizarding World to notice something was terribly wrong on the battlefield below.
By that time, the number of magical beasts that had perished had already reached into the millions.
Creatures that normally took an entire day to wear down were obliterated in less than a minute, and the mechanical insects swarming the field had multiplied by several hundred times.
The sudden turn of events immediately triggered alarm bells. Many sensed this could be the harbinger of an all-out assault.
After Orsaga vanished from the battlefield, dozens of Aelthorpe Stars—hovering silently above—quickly exchanged brief signals and initiated a response.
Several of the Aelthorpe Stars began gathering energy, and a thick, dark-green corrosive fog materialized out of thin air over the battlefield. Like a tidal wave, it surged toward the silvery mist composed of mechanical insects. Any mechanical object it touched was instantly dissolved, offering no resistance whatsoever.
Whether under control or acting autonomously, the mechanical insects surged forward in response, forming a silver-white wave to meet the encroaching green mist head-on.
The moment the two forces collided, sharp sizzling sounds erupted, and bursts of white smoke flared at the points of contact!
Countless microscopic mechanical insects were corroded by the magically conjured acid tide. Yet simultaneously, they absorbed massive amounts of energy and used it to fuel their rapid reproduction.
In mere seconds, the green acidic fog was completely overwhelmed by the silvery mist!
Not only did it fail to eliminate the mechanical insects, it ended up serving as a power source, helping them grow even stronger.
Inside one of the Aelthorpe Stars, overlooking the battlefield, the Wizarding World's commander, Hewlett Holtz, absentmindedly rubbed his chin and murmured with a nostalgic expression, "The Kaylon Civilization used to launch attacks like this too. Far more destructive than this, caused us quite a bit of trouble back then..."
He appeared calm and collected, unbothered in the least.
Panic? Not even a trace.
For someone who had lived for hundreds of thousands of years, there was hardly any battlefield spectacle he hadn't witnessed.
This skirmish was nothing in comparison.
Even when the Wall of Wutomaag in the heart of the Wizarding World had been breached and the inland territories set ablaze, he had remained composed. Compared to that, today's incident was barely worth mentioning.
'But I can't just let them run rampant…'
As the thought crossed his mind, the Aelthorpe Star he commanded began unlocking multiple layers of its internal authority protocols.
Among its arsenal was a weapon completely unknown to the Gaiensar Civilization—a weapon that now began to activate.
As the air distorted, a formless force began radiating outward from the center of the Aelthorpe Star, rippling in all directions without any blind spots.
The mechanical insects attempting to spread further were immediately pulverized the moment they touched the wave of force. No resistance, no struggle—just instant annihilation. Reduced to microscopic dust in a fraction of a second, the vast swarms vanished as if they had never existed. Silence fell across the battlefield.
Even the Gaiensar Civilization's commanding officer was momentarily stunned by the sudden turn of events.
He had known from the beginning that this attack wouldn't pose a serious threat to the Wizarding World. But to see his trump card neutralized so effortlessly still left a bitter taste. After all, by conventional standards, this tactic ranked among their deadliest weapons—capable of wiping out weaker worlds in a single strike.
Turning to his adjutant, he began, "Status report on—"
BOOM!!!
He didn't get to finish his sentence.
A deafening explosion erupted right next to the flagship. He whipped his head around and saw that a nearby warship—hundreds of meters tall—had been crushed flat in an instant.
Metal hulls and internal personnel were compacted into a blood-soaked iron coffin, barely a few meters high.
Even the explosion's flames were forcibly contained within a narrow range, leaving only the sound to escape into the surrounding air.
Reacting quickly, he ordered all nearby vessels to retreat.
Unknown attack method.
Unknown frequency.
Unknown power level...
His brow furrowed in concern.
Across the battlefield, the Wizarding World forces did not seize the moment to press their advantage. The Aelthorpe Stars remained stationary in midair, as though none of this had anything to do with them.
In truth, most of the wizards were just as baffled. They had no idea what kind of weapon had been deployed, or why the enemy had been repelled so swiftly.
But one idle observer—Orsaga, loitering atop a random Aelthorpe Star—had a pretty good guess.
Space and pressure.
Those were the two elements he had identified.
Unlike his own method of incinerating an infiltrator with bloodflame, the wizards had utilized an invisible force—pressure—to apply devastating damage evenly across the target, leaving no room for resistance.
Against this kind of attack, the mechanical insects' energy-absorbing abilities were useless. Pressure wasn't an absorbable energy form.
As for the attack's mechanism and frequency, Orsaga couldn't say. He was no expert on the Aelthorpe Stars. He mostly wandered around them aimlessly, and he hadn't bothered to conduct any actual reconnaissance. Why go to that much effort for something so thankless?
Gazing down at the battlefield now littered with debris, he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.
'I wonder if I'll even get the chance to scavenge anymore…'
He understood full well: now that real damage had been dealt, both sides were likely to stop playing around. The days of easy looting were probably over.
Even though neither faction was particularly wary of him, Orsaga was still likely to get caught in the crossfire.
And with everyone on higher alert, the chances of harvesting stray souls would drop sharply!
Less profit meant loss.
And to him, this felt like a major loss.
With a long, helpless sigh, he muttered to himself, "Guess this marks the end of my decades-long career as a master scavenger…"
The thought filled him with deep regret.
---
Inside the command room of a particular Aelthorpe Star, a voice asked:
"Lord Hewlett, should we move in and occupy the territory they've abandoned?"
Hewlett casually replied, "No need. Just hold our current position. Make sure the magical beasts that are still alive get some treatment. Waste is never acceptable."
His tone showed no sign of triumph. He understood that the losses dealt to the Gaiensar Civilization were negligible—barely a scratch. Their retreat was purely a precaution.
'Still, the Kaylon Civilization's legacy is proving pretty useful…'
At that thought, a faint smile finally appeared on his lips.
_____
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