Amber Sword

Hoson also let out a breath. He turned back, and in his heart he already more or less understood what kind of assault had brought the Bull Shark down. It seemed Wood High Priest’s conjecture was indeed correct: Demons had launched a massive invasion of Erune. The Demons lacked an Advanced Air Force; the Barbaric Demon Lord already counted as one of the foremost elite aerial troop types beneath the River of Sulfur.

Yet it was precisely at that moment that he suddenly heard someone shriek: "What is that?"

Sir Hoson’s heart jolted; instinctively he turned toward the voice. He felt the sky seem to brighten faintly; in that direction the layered storm‑clouds abruptly parted, and a meteor wreathed in surging flame plummeted down from the heavens, falling toward some distant point.

Then, as if duplicating that very scene, the Black clouds churned as though boiling; countless blood‑Red light specks appeared behind the sundered mass. One meteor after another tore through the dark clouds and hurled downward, and for a time half the sky was dyed the hue of clotted blood.

Sir Hoson was utterly dumbstruck. He had already calculated that the trajectory of those meteors was aimed straight at the Northern Alliance’s main position. It was over. A sheet of ice swept through his heart as he watched with his own eyes a meteor strike the distant mid‑air hull of the "Peilan." That Cruz flagship, in a single blaze of blinding Light, was reduced to ash.

In that instant Sir Hoson even forgot that the captain of the Knoelia Fleet was still aboard that flagship; in truth he had lost the ability to think at all. No Magic Array appeared in the sky—this was Demon Magic, it must be a top‑tier Fourteen Rings Spell: Doomsday.

A Lord Level high-level demon has entered the Teleportation Gate—this was the only thought left in his mind.

...

"What did you say!?"

"Where are they now?" Macaro and Ou Fuwei’er spoke at the same time, but they had no chance to utter another word. Suddenly the bright Light outside the camp flickered, and a chorus of shocked cries rushed in from beyond the tent.

Outside the tent, it was as if half the sky had flared ablaze.

Something catastrophic had happened. Everyone’s heart clenched; Char was the first to react, turning to lift the tent flap. Then the Red‑haired girl who had been silent all this time burst past him in a flash, followed by Antitina. Macaro and Ou Fuwei’er exchanged a glance and strode out after them.

Stepping out of the tent, all of them at once lost the power of speech. In their field of vision, the sky to the northwest was a sheet of Fire, blazing bright; countless falling stars were raining down from mid‑air, dropping toward the ground.

Macaro calculated swiftly, and in a short moment had already determined that the impact zone was Bunoan.

"The Demons have begun their Attack on the Northern Alliance!" He drew his conclusion at once.

"That’s the Doomsday Technique. The enemy has a Wizard of the Extreme Realm." Ou Fuwei’er sucked in a sharp breath. "It’s a Demon Lord. Martha above—this time it’s likely to be an entire Demon Army, even greater than the one recorded in the chronicles!"

Everyone knew exactly which precedent he spoke of—that time, a Kingdom comparable in size to Erune had been utterly annihilated and reduced to scorched earth. Under the ravaging of the Demons, several million Lives were completely erased; in truth that had no longer been a war, but a massacre and a cataclysm.

It was a wound upon the history of Vorn that would never be smoothed away.

And this time, it seemed the turn had come for ancient Erune.

What had the Eruein done so wrong, to merit such punishment? That thought rose unbidden in the heart of everyone present. Yet it was still the Kingdom’s Lonely Wolf who reacted first. "Macaro!" he shouted.

"I know, Ou Fuwei’er, I made a mistake." Macaro abruptly realized the error he had committed. Though he had originally intended to use the Northern Alliance as cannon fodder, now he suddenly saw that he had misjudged the Demons’ strength. The situation was already starkly clear: if the two sides could not unite, neither of them alone could stand against such a Demon Army. In fact, even if they did unite, their prospects were still bleak.

"We have to find a way to support those Northern Men immediately," Macaro said through gritted teeth. "Once the Spell passes, the Demons will surely launch a ground offensive. Those Northern Men and the Cruz people will never be able to hold; the moment they fall back, Erune is finished."

Ou Fuwei’er nodded, though fury also surged in his chest. This was all the ’good work’ of the Cruz people and the Flame Temple. He finally understood why Brand had flown into such a rage back then, giving the Holy Temple not the slightest face as he ruthlessly extorted them.