Volume 4: Super-Tier Awakening & The Ancient Capital Calamity
Chapter 336
The Third Night of the Ancient Capital: Undead Overlords Surge Forth
The dusk of the Ancient Capital never brought warmth. Instead, it bore the bruised, weeping light of a deep, open wound slashed across the gray sky. Thick, viscous darkness like molten tar slowly crawled forward, swallowing ancient alleys, moss-grown primitive stone ramparts, and the anxious, heavily burdened gazes of tens of thousands of people sheltering behind sturdy magic arrays.
The bloody rain that had begun since late afternoon showed no signs of easing; if anything, it grew heavier. Heavy, dark red droplets pounded mercilessly against tiled roofs and bluestone-paved streets, weaving a terrifying symphony of death and mourning. The pungent, metallic reek of fresh blood mingled with the damp, moldy stench of mud and ancient decay, billowing upward to shroud the entire ancient city. Anyone who dared to take a deep breath felt their chest constrict as if gripped by an invisible hand, their lungs turning as cold as ice.
From the highest observation platform of the Ancient Capital—the majestic Suppression Tower standing sentinel in the heart of the city—scanning the horizon in all directions revealed a world that had utterly transformed.
The earth trembled violently, seismic shockwaves rippling deep through the subterranean bedrock with the raw fury of a magnitude-eight earthquake tearing the world apart. Gigantic fissures jaggedly cracked outward from the base of the city walls, slithering into the desolate wilderness beyond.
From the distant horizon, where night and ghostly miasma bled into one, six pitch-black tides of undead surged forward like a roaring tsunami!
This was no ordinary assault; it was a true cataclysm of destruction. Six terrifying armies, numbering over half a million undead drawn from desolate mass graves, ancient burial grounds, and bleached bone valleys, poured toward the city. They were endlessly vast, crowding and trampling over one another in a relentless advance. A sea of bleached bone, a sea of rusted armor, a sea of rotting corpses, and a sea of shrieking specters painted the most vivid, ruthless picture of earthly Hell.
At the vanguard of each dark army towered a colossal beast radiating an oppressive might that warped the surrounding space—an Upper-Tier Undead Overlord!
In the east, a thirty-meter-tall White Bone Berserker emerged, thousands of razor-sharp spikes bristling along its spine. Each thunderous footfall collapsed a hillside, unleashing shockwaves that blew away hundreds of low-tier undead in its wake.
To the west, a Nether Ghost Mother drifted mid-air, her semi-corporeal form eclipsing a corner of the heavens. Her piercing shrieks carried a sonic wave capable of piercing the mind, causing weaker mages within the safety of the walls to clutch their heads and vomit blood.
To the south, a Zombie Behemoth with thick, steel-gray flesh and bloodshot eyes flashing with feral bloodlust tore apart everything in its path.
And in the north—the most terrifying sector of all—a colossal Blood Serpent War General with a human torso and a giant serpent’s head slithered forward, leaving behind a trail of viscous blood that hissed and smoked upon the earth, corroding all things it touched.
Each Overlord stood dozens of meters tall, radiating a suffocating aura of death that painted the night sky with ominous streaks of emerald green and blood red. The pressure of their might clamped down on the atmosphere, making even Advanced-Tier experts tremble in their boots.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
Emergency defense sirens across the East, West, South, and North gates shrieked in unison. The deafening wails pierced through the bloody rain, awakening the ultimate survival instinct of the Ancient Capital. Tens of thousands of multicolored magic lights flickered along the ramparts, resembling countless bitter stars desperately fighting against an eternal night.
The entire garrison of Ancient Capital battle mages, under the direct command of the Defense Commanders, had taken up their battle stations. Volunteer magic hunter squads stood with unwavering resolve, tightening their grips on magic staffs and artifacts without a single step backward. Elite senior cadets from major magic academies had been mobilized as reserve forces; though childish traces still lingered on their youthful faces, every one of them was now ready to face death.
At the frontline command post towering atop the central rampart, Lin Feng stood as straight as a spear. His black mage robes snapped furiously in the howling gale and the freezing bloody rain. His angular, refined features were chillingly calm and composed. His abyssal dark eyes remained completely unruffled as they surveyed the colossal battlefield closing in from all four directions.
“Reporting to the Commander! The six undead armies have entered visual range! Distance to the outer magic trench: three hundred meters!” a communications soldier roared frantically through a megaphone, cold sweat mixing with rainwater streaming down his forehead.
Lin Feng raised his right hand, his finger tapping lightly against the glowing tactical magic map suspended in mid-air. His voice rang out steady, chillingly cold, yet imbued with an absolute, commanding authority that reached every squad leader’s ears:
“Stay calm. Wait until they step within one hundred meters before unleashing the first salvo. Concentrate firepower on the vanguard warlords to shatter their momentum. Mobile reinforcement squads, standby at intersection nodes three and seven. The moment any sector shows a breach, reinforce immediately. Not a single step back!”
“Understood!” roared the squad leaders in unison, instantly dampening the budding panic rippling through the crowd.
Under Lin Feng’s sharp, chillingly composed command, the entire defense system of the Ancient Capital operated smoothly like a well-oiled war machine. The defensive magic arrays along the ramparts blazed to life, fully activating magical traps, artificial lava trenches, and ultra-high-voltage electrical grids.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The first deafening explosions detonated as the leading wave of low-tier undead struck the outer kill zone. Magic fire roared skyward, reducing thousands of monsters to ash. Piercing screeches of the slain undead mingled with the battle cries of human mages. Total war had erupted in all its brutal intensity.
Yet the battlefield was never a simple equation. The might of half a million undead led by six Upper-Tier Overlords far exceeded initial projections. Fallen undead were instantly replaced by endless ranks behind them, using the corpses of their fallen kin as stepping stones to claw their way up the walls.
Just as the battlefield pressure reached its boiling point—with the undivided attention of the command post and battle lines locked onto the eastern and southern sectors where the undead tides crashed heaviest—
Suddenly!
Boom! An earth-shattering explosion erupted from the North Gate, drowning out even the angry roars of thunder in the sky!
The entire northern rampart violently shuddered as though a tactical bomb had detonated right beneath its foundation. From that very spot, a gigantic purplish-black ice-magic pillar shot straight into the heavens, tearing through the cloud cover and staining the northern horizon with a chilling, toxic luminescence.
The highest-priority emergency signal from the North Gate flashed instantly on the central command screen. The broken, panicked, and terrified voice of the North Gate Defense Captain blared through the magic transceiver, cutting through heavy pants:
“Command post! Command post! The North Gate... the North Gate has been struck by the Ice Armor Bone Overlord! The tier-nine magic crystal barrier has been completely shattered! Over half the garrison has fallen... The defense line... the northern defense line is about to break! Send reinforcements! Hurry...!”
Crack... crack... Bip!
The signal cut dead, leaving a terrifying, suffocating silence hanging over the command post.
Lin Feng abruptly whipped his head around, his eyes locking onto the North Gate with the sharpness of a razor blade. Across his perpetually detached features, a cold ripple finally surfaced. The tactical game had been completely upended, and the first gateway to hell was about to burst wide open right before his eyes.