Volume 4: Super-Tier Awakening & The Ancient Capital Calamity
Atop the eighty-meter-old basalt ancient walls of the Ancient Capital, the reek of fresh blood, rotting pus, and magical gunpowder was thick enough to curdle into toxic gray dew clinging to the soldiers’ eyelashes. The howling gale whipped like a razor blade, carrying a bone-chilling sub-zero frost straight from the nether realms across the frozen corpses and shivering, exhausted figures.
Tens of thousands of Ancient Capital battle mages defending the northern sector wore tattered, shredded armor stained with blackened blood and gaping, horrific claw marks. Their eyes were bloodshot and webbed with red veins, sunken deep from going three days and three nights without a single second of sleep. Their nerves were stretched to a taut wire, ready to snap at the slightest push. The mana in the dantian and spiritual seas of the vast majority of mages had hit rock bottom; many bit down hard on the tips of their tongues, squeezing out every last ounce of vital force just to sustain the fragile magic shields around their bodies. The heavy-duty magic artillery platforms that once roared with majestic power were now overheated, their barrels glowing red-hot, occasionally spitting out a few scattered, feeble shots that fell plump into the ocean of undead below without causing even a ripple.