Wandering Knight

Chapter 471: Web of Convergence

The colossal scythe and warhammer wrought of fighting spirit smashed into the Utopia's spire from opposite sides. Guided by the power of legendary knights, the condensed blades of fighting spirit carved straight through the void-energy bulwark that sheathed the spire and struck the exposed structure beneath.The giant scythe detonated in a burst of force, then splintered into several smaller, more nimble blades of fighting spirit. They wheeled about, reversed course, and hacked down again. One of the knights' potentials, Echo of Reprisal, meant that the strikes would chain one after another unless they were interrupted.

The knight wielding the warhammer likewise made his move. He drove his potential to its utmost limit; the legendary hammer in his hands, its very nature defined by overwhelming weight, sent rippling afterimages through the air. With bulging veins and arms flushed crimson from exertion, he brought the weapon down again and again toward the spire.

A relentless barrage of concussive booms echoed through the battlefield. Each strike rang louder than the last; each impact sent deeper tremors through the stone. When the torrent of blows reached its critical threshold, all his accumulated power erupted at once into a single point, unleashing a devastating shockwave that ploughed the ground into furrows. This was his potential, Ground Zero.

Under the furious onslaught of the two knight legions, fine fissures began to spider across the spire's exterior. The faint cracking was nearly lost beneath the roar of battle, but the damage was undeniable.

"The void energy this spire released earlier wasn't aimed at us. So just where did that energy go...?"

Their weapons did not falter, but both legendary knights were suddenly struck with the same unease. When the tower fully emerged into the material realm moments ago, a surge of raw void energy had pulsed outward.

Yet the force that should have hindered the cavalry's assault had simply washed past them and raced toward the distant horizon without disrupting their assault in the slightest.

"That void energy... Continue the attack! The knights' strikes are clearly effective. Support them!"

The legendary mages narrowed their eyes from where they stood at the back of the Alliance's forces. They, too, had felt that sweeping tide of void power. Their spells had been primed to counter a retaliatory strike—yet the wave had merely passed through the Alliance's forces without distorting the physical world or lashing out in any form.

None of the wizards could divine the true purpose of that force. But the momentary lull created by Utopia's inexplicable surge of energy was a chance the Alliance could not afford to waste.

And so, while the wizards intercepted the attacks still careening toward the knights, the magicians hurled spells toward the tower.

Beams of every color, of every nature and element, seared across the night sky, arcing from all directions. They converged upon the solitary spire rising from the basin below like a swarm of spotlights trained upon a star on center stage.

Frost rays, molten chains, whips of thunder, auroral trails, earth-rending bursts... all manner of rays and blasts mingled in a mad kaleidoscope of destructive brilliance. For a heartbeat, the battle took on an almost theatrical splendor.

The attacks avoided the lower half of the spire, where the knights were pressing their assault, in favor of the upper structure. The impacts formed a single incandescent sphere of unstable, raging energy, which then detonated with a deafening roar, swallowing a full third of the tower in a riot of catastrophic light.

The hammer fell; the scythe struck; the rays converged. The Alliance's barrage engulfed Utopia's tower entirely. The resulting shockwave tore up through the heavens, shredding the thick clouds that veiled the moon.

The sound of fracturing stone grew louder. Fine cracks webbed across the tower's entire structure. Bricks tumbled loose, one after another. The spire was not yet swaying, but it resembled a dam moments before collapse, its integrity eroding, its downfall inevitable.

"The Utopia's spire has emitted abnormal void fluctuations that did not inflict harm to the troops. Report in: have other units encountered the same phenomenon?"

"Void pulse detected during combat seventeen seconds ago!"

"Thirty-six seconds ago, confirmed."

"Five seconds ago!"

"A minute and twenty-seven seconds ago!"

"Negative—no, a surge of void energy was detected just now!"

"..."

Skyborne City's operators, responsible for battlefield communications, relayed their inquiry and received responses from wizards across every battlefield where Alliance forces were clashing with the Utopia's spires.

A pattern quickly emerged: these void pulses were no anomaly. Every regiment had witnessed the same inexplicable surges, which had caused no harm whatsoever.

The wizards' brows knit together. Something was terribly wrong. In the next instant, one wizard's eyes widened in shock. One after another, he sensed twenty void pulses sweep across the legion, perfectly synchronized, arriving with no perceptible advance notice, every one converging on their position, on the spire they were now tearing apart.

"Watch out!"

He barked out a sharp, urgent warning, and instantly shaped an eighth-tier spell. It was all the wizard could do. The gap in their understanding of the void was simply too vast. He could not predict what calamity twenty simultaneous void surges might bring.

Twenty surges of void energy converged upon the Utopia's spire. In that instant, the structure let out a deafening, droning hum. Several colossal tendrils of void erupted from its battered exterior, manifesting out of nothing and warping through space to connect with distant points far across the battlefield.

The moment the connection was forged, transcendent void energy began to flood the area. The damage caused by the Alliance's assault began to mend as violet light welled up from within the cracks of the spire's exterior, restoring the damaged stone at a steady pace.

The restoration was not so rapid as to erase all previous progress, but it came hand-in-hand with a bombardment of void energy far more violent than anything prior.

Those few wizards who could perceive the hidden workings of the void saw an image: a vast, interlocking net. The earlier waves of void energy had been threads linking the twenty-one spires that had ascended into the material realm, forming a cohesive whole that spanned the continent.

The violet of the void bled outward from the foundations of each spire and raced across the ground. Everything touched by it twisted and buckled from within, shattering and crumbling away into the void. The first to face this advancing tide were the knight legions still at the base of the spire.

"Withdraw!"

The knights did not hesitate. To continue their assault at such close range, against a storm of void swelling so suddenly and so violently, would be suicide. Retreat was the only rational choice. Fighting spirit surged. They struck the ground as one, leaping skyward in a perfectly coordinated withdrawal.

Above them, a spatial rift had opened up, courtesy of the magicians, ready to pull the entire legion back to the main formation. The timing was seamless, their cooperation practiced and sure.

But the spire, now fully integrated into the great network of the void, would not allow them to escape.

Void energy erupted like a jet of corrosive flame, flooding into the rift. The spatial corridor flickered in a storm of corrupt, glitching sigils—then collapsed into something hideously: a gullet of violet flesh, riddled with rotting membranes and serrated fangs. Knights who leapt into the rift would find themselves diving straight into a monster's maw.

More void rifts opened up in the sky. Enormous black centipedes burst forth, their elongated bodies stitched together from mangled, impossible matter. Hundreds of thin, talon-fingered humanlike arms jutted from their flanks, writhing as they hurled themselves toward the Alliance's spellcasters.

A tremendous black cube plummeted from the heavens, slamming onto the centipede and pinning it flat. Reversed gravity kept the monstrosity trapped beneath the construct.

A legendary wizard had intervened with the eighth-tier Unified Construct. The cube was merely one of the spell's possible manifestations; its essence was to accomplish whatever the wizard willed.

And there were multiple such legendary wizards scattered among the Alliance's forces. A pitch-black spear whistled through the air, trailing chains that lashed outward and anchored themselves above the airborne knights. A web of fine chains unspooled, looping around the knights' waists. Their bodies flickered, turning incorporeal. Then, ignoring all obstacles, they were forcibly reeled back to safety. Such was the effect of the seventh-tier Void Recall.

The cube and the centipede crashed to the ground in a thunderous explosion. But the creature burrowed deep, tore free of its confinement, and surged again toward the Alliance line. And from the warped rifts above, more figures poured forth—but not frenzied, chaotic voidspawn.

Just like the mutated orcs of the Bloodfang Empire, these were beings of the material realm that had been transformed by close contact with the void.

Mana and fighting spirit ignited around them as they charged. Spells and blades filled the air.

Magic clashed with magic, fighting spirit with fighting spirit. The wizards rained spell after spell upon the gargantuan centipede. The Alliance army met the Utopian army blow for blow.

High above, the Utopia's colossal deific phantom manifested once more, its composite consciousness sweeping over the battlefield like a psychic hurricane.

But the Alliance had not come unprepared. Priests of the God of Light, bolstered by the devout of other deities, cast divine protection over the troops. The divine radiance held; not a single member of the Alliance's forces was swept away or assimilated by the tide of consciousness.

The battlefield dissolved into utter chaos. Both sides hurled their most devastating spells without pause. The sky itself vanished beneath storms of light and roiling, violent energy. Casualties began to appear on both sides; here and there, an attack broke through.

The Alliance's disadvantage became painfully clear. Backed by the void, the spires continued to repair themselves. The voidspawn were summoned by those spires; destroying the voidspawn was inconsequential.

On the other hand, any Alliance soldiers that fell were permanent losses for their side. And, in a vicious cycle, any losses created openings that the Utopia could take advantage of.

But before things could turn toward the worse, a sudden, improbable report was delivered to the battlefield.

"The spire near the elven capital of Liaheim has been destroyed."