Dimensional Descent - #2133 - 2133 Retreat.
“These humans are actually so worthless. What was all this preparation for,” A Nomad young man yawned.
This young man mumbled to himself, watching the carnage without much care. He leaned back on his own floating hands, reclining in the skies without a care. He was well known among his race, but this went without saying since he was chosen to lead his own legion. He was Prince Gregwyn, and was quite known for his laziness. He was probably the only Nomad who would use his extra hands in such a way.
The Nomad Race’s standout feature was, of course, their three pairs of hands, two of which were attached by their wrists to their arms, and the remaining four of which floated around their bodies as though they had minds of their own. Then there was, of course, the gems on their foreheads, a protrusion of their Ethereal Glabellas.
Gregwyn looked off to the side. Two of his floating hands acted as his seat and the remaining two acted as his backrest. He looked quite comfortable, and yet he seemed to want more from the occasion.
Did he feel bad about attacking the humans like this? Of course not. He only lamented that they weren’t strong enough.
The humans weren’t unique in this matter. Every Domain that formed an Eighth Dimensional world like this would be invaded. Well… aside from the Spirituals.
That said, the humans were unlucky in the fact that so many were attacking them at once. Back when their Nomad Race had experienced this, only the Beat Domain had invaded. The only race that had experienced a similar level of pressure was the Dwarven Race, and right now the Dwarven Race had ironically sent the most experts.
Clearly, the Dwarven Race still held a grudge from being kicked out of the Human Domain back then.
The worst part was that the Dwarven Race were full of archery experts that were especially lethal in this density of Anarchic Force. Anyone who could expel their Force over large distances was a huge asset in this Void Battlefield, and the Dwarven Race happened to have the largest percentage of such existences.
“It’ll probably only be another day before the second line is breached and then just the third line would be left. By then, the entire Human Domain will be open to us and the war will basically be over. It would be impossible for them to defend more from entering from the Void Battlefield, and deal with the wild fire spreading in their territory.
“The Dwarven Race was dealing with their own problems so they didn’t want to overextend themselves by entering the Human Domain fully before, but now they won’t have such scruples. Their defensive measures have grown too tough for others to continue to attack them now. It seems that the humans will be the new heel.”
Gregwyn laughed uproariously.
On the side of the Dwarven Race, a pair of brother and sister stood in the air, the wings flapping. Their gazes were surprisingly cold despite their somewhat adorable appearances.
Each of them held a bow in their hands, directly following traffic below. The grey skies were practically blackened by the number of arrows that were flying. The humans couldn’t even get close before they were mowed down. It was a truly devastating sight. The humans could only form barricades to try and defend from the volleys, but with half the second line having fallen, the defenses simply weren’t very great and could only be hastily put up.
This pair of brother and sister were likewise nobility of their race. This could be seen by the fact that they looked more like short humans as opposed to dwarves in the eyes of most. The Princess, Ularora, and the Prince Malcuhorn.
What was far more interesting, though, was the fact that the city they were currently besieging was one that Leonel would very easily recognize, it was the very one he had first run into when he returned from the Cataclysm Zone. And, as expected, it was none other than Rowan. This was the very same young man that had almost killed Leonel after he had helped them to escape the Rapax Nest.
Rowan Cancer had surprisingly not participated in the Heir Wars and had remained with the Void Palace. He hadn’t told anyone why, but if he had said it, no one would believe him.
The reality was that unlike others, he could see through the danger Leonel posed and he wanted no part in it. It was, of course, due to his special Ability Index that he was so certain. And he had felt that he was quite smart while watching the broadcast, but who would have thought that he would end up so unlucky in the end?
Suddenly, Rowan got an order that made his brows jump up.
Retreat? What?
Rowan couldn’t even believe such a ridiculously stupid order. If they retreated from the position, they’d be completely finished. There was nothing to retreat back to but the first line, but the so-called first line was just the Void Palace itself. It was incredibly difficult to defend because the Palace was only meant to be used as a life support. As difficult as it was to attack, it would simultaneously be hard on those who took it upon themselves to defend.
To make matters worse, there was a forward legion below. Their blows from within the city weren’t effective enough, and if they allowed the Dwarven Race to approach too closely, they would lose the city too swiftly. If they retreated now, how many of them would die?
Rowan hesitated. This order was definitely official, it couldn’t just be ignored because he disagreed with it. For all he knew, they had a better plan than he did.
After another round of hesitation, it wasn’t even Rowan himself who acted. He was yet to become a Domain Ranked disciple. He realized at that moment that it wasn’t up to him in the first place. The Domain Ranked disciples were the true pillars of the Void Palace, they held the most authority.
A Domain Ranked disciple he knew as Avelaer handed down the orders.
“Prepare for retreat! Ready the canons for one final blow! Hurry!”
The words had only just fallen when the air trembled. Rowan’s head snapped around to find a Starship had suddenly appeared behind their city, shocking him into silence.
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Erdiul’s Note: Two chapters today, none tomorrow and three on Saturday. Author’s words, not mine.