Chapter 59: The Endless Sacrifice

To the west of the floating land, the once-steady Imperial Western Army finally found itself in turmoil.

A major general flew in, straight into the central command, kneeling on one knee and holding a document tube high with both hands. “My lord, an urgent letter from the Duke of Yu!”

The man in the center, a middle-aged man with a short beard, took the tube, opened it, and quickly scanned it. Anger immediately flickered across his face. “Again, urging us! What use is that? Do I not wish to be swift? But how can we be fast now with this fucking situation?”

In the distance, smoke billowed and explosions echoed, marking the intense battle. A general beside him also expressed dissatisfaction, “They’ve breached three lines of defense in a day. How can we be any faster? Who knows what madness the black-blooded bastards are up to, not thinking of fleeing but still fighting to the death. The Zhao family’s lives are precious, but our brothers’ lives are worthless?”

Another, more experienced general spoke slowly, “My lord, Zhao Jundu’s name is too prominent, already in the Emperor’s eyes. We cannot treat him like a mere Zhao clan member. If we handle this well, it will be a great merit. If we fail, all our previous efforts will be for naught.”

The first general glared, “What nonsense! My lord has already gone to the front lines personally, returning wounded. What more do you want?”

Sure enough, bloodstains seeped through the war-robe of the short-bearded man. Hearing the arguments, he frowned, “Enough! Stop arguing!”

When the generals quieted, he gazed at the front lines for a moment and then said, “Since we marched out, we have encountered little resistance, mainly due to my cautiousness. Now, the dark races have set up several lines of defense, each as formidable as a chasm. I don’t recall them having such military strength on the floating land. The situation must have changed significantly. With our path blocked, the situation in the center and east must be dire. And the White City is in even greater peril.”

Pausing, he continued in a deep voice, “This time, the dark races clearly have a grand scheme! Regardless of their plan, if we advance and break through their defenses, their plans will come to nothing. Pass my order: from this moment, attack with all your might. Break two more lines of defense by tonight!”

An aggressive general urged, “Marshal, our brothers just pulled back from the front lines. Attacking now will surely result in significant casualties.”

The short-bearded man’s face darkened. “Are you afraid?”

The aggressive general, his face red, shouted, “Wang Dahai has never feared death! Marshal, leave this line to me!”

“Good! If you fail, I’ll take the field myself!”

The Imperial forces launched a sudden offensive, and with the addition of fresh troops, the front lines became extremely tense, with casualties rising sharply.

Beside the short-bearded man, an old general did not look at the front but instead gazed at the distant horizon where Nightless transport ships continuously appeared, setting up new defenses.

The old general was visibly displeased. “I wonder what the Royal Guard Fleet is doing, letting all the Nightless reinforcements through.”

The short-bearded man looked up at the sky and said slowly, “Perhaps they’re having a hard time too.”

In the void, an Imperial battleship, along with several others, was besieging a duke-class ship. Debris from destroyed ships floated everywhere, and some were even cut in half, drifting helplessly in space.

The duke-class ship fought fiercely, despite being under attack and repeatedly hit, it refused to retreat. Its cannons, large and small, fired relentlessly, returning fire. Any Imperial ship in the path of its main cannon had to evade, even battleships dared not stand in its way.

On the bridge of the Imperial battleship, an elderly admiral of the Royal Guard Fleet, with a grave expression, issued orders, trying to find the enemy’s weakness for a decisive blow.

At that moment, an officer rushed onto the bridge, shouting, “General Wu! Another transport fleet is appearing to the rear!”

What to do?

All the officers’ gazes fell on General Wu. His cheek twitched as he looked at the still-fighting duchess-class ship, remaining silent for a moment before slamming his fist on the control panel, gritting his teeth, “Continue the fight! Sink that thing in front of us!”

The officers returned to their posts, attacking with all their might. They understood the implications of General Wu’s order. Letting the transport fleet through would make the ground battle even harder. When the war ended, the commanders of the ground forces, especially the Zhao family, would not forgive General Wu.

However, his squadron was pinned down by the duchess-class ship. Until it was sunk, no one dared to turn their sterns to such a formidable opponent.

If they had to intercept the transport fleet, there was only one way: part of the squadron would engage the duchess-class ship, while the main force would intercept the transport fleet, quickly finish the task, and return to the battlefield.

But apart from the main force, the other ships facing the duchess-class ship would be doomed. In the short time it took to deal with the transport fleet, some Imperial ships would inevitably be sunk.

General Wu had known the captains of these ships for years. How could he make such a decision to send these friends to their deaths? Having served in the Royal Guard Fleet for over thirty years, he had never faced such a difficult decision.

The Nightless had made their move, putting a duke-class fleet on the table, and the Empire, at least General Wu himself, could not or would not match the stakes. Without a stake, they could only watch the ground battle worsen. In essence, General Wu was betting on the ground forces.

Similar difficult decisions faced other commanders of the Royal Guard Fleet. Some made the same choice, while others resolutely amputated their forces, stopping the transport fleet at all costs.

The Nightless, who should have been at a disadvantage in fleet battles, now saw new fleets continually appear in the outer space. Clearly, these were not temporary reinforcements but pre-positioned forces.

No one could blame the military intelligence system now, nor question why they had no information about the Nightless fleet. The Nightless had held back their full strength in the early stages, allowing the ground forces to be decimated.

The three fleets of the Royal Guard split into smaller squadrons, re-engaging the Nightless fleet in outer space, vying for control. Most commanders, based on experience, chose to first eliminate the Nightless’ main forces before intercepting the transport fleet.

Their choice was not wrong, but it greatly increased the pressure on the ground forces. From the White City, one would see an endless stream of transport ships.

Qian Ye no longer remembered how many he had killed. His limbs, once fluid and responsive, were growing numb. Slaying had become a mechanical and instinctive response. The prolonged state of boiling blood caused a sharp pain in his blood core. The crystal grains within the core, already depleted, were dim.

Yet, in front of him, the dark races remained numerous.

Qian Ye suddenly felt a sense of dizziness. Looking around, he could no longer see any comrades.

Where were they? Were they all dead? Where were the reinforcements? Were they close, or were they not coming at all? These questions flooded his mind.

The dizziness was interrupted by physical pain. Without turning, Qian Ye slashed the wolfman ambushing him, cutting him in half.

This time, the wound was particularly painful. He looked down to see a large gash under his ribs, with the wolfman’s claws and half an arm still attached. The sharp claws were firmly embedded in his ribs, but thankfully, Qian Ye’s body had begun to change, preventing the bones from breaking.

Taking a deep breath, Qian Ye forced his blood core to operate, instantly revitalizing him. His eyes regained their glow. The dark races, with their keen senses, felt the renewed power in Qian Ye, causing their morale to wane.

However, the truly strong sensed a slight instability in Qian Ye’s aura. His current strength was seen as a final burst. More and more powerful adversaries circled around him, waiting for their chance.

Dale and Tige closely watched Qian Ye’s battle. No matter how fierce the fight, the two commanders remained unmoved, showing no signs of entering the fray.

Tige occasionally glanced at Dale, but Dale’s face remained expressionless, regardless of the casualties.

Seeing Qian Ye on the verge of collapse, Tige couldn’t resist, “Lord Dale, do you think he can still launch another attack like the one just now?”

“Go and find out, won’t you?”

Tige hesitated, silently checking his own condition, and ultimately stayed put.

Seeing that neither Tige nor Dale intended to enter, Qian Ye suddenly straightened up, spreading his light wings. A light feather shot out, instantly piercing the chest of a vampire marquis outside.

The marquis screamed and fled. Just as he reached the edge of the White City, he fell and did not move again. There was no blood, no visible wound.

Tige’s eyelids twitched.

He had already been hit by a Primordial Gun, barely suppressing his injuries. His constitution and defensive capabilities were not much stronger than the marquis. If he had been hit, he would likely be severely injured, if not dead.

Tige glanced at Dale, his eyes filled with apprehension, unsure if the wolf duke had seen through Qian Ye’s restraint or if he had simply guessed correctly.

At that moment, a faint red light flickered in Dale’s hand. Tige, sensitive to blood energy, immediately recognized it as immense and deep bloodline power, making him shudder.

Dale finally showed a slight emotion, looking at the battlefield, “Finally, some results. But we need to push harder. Lord Tige, it’s time we entered the fray.”

Tige nodded and followed Dale toward the White City.

Inside the White City, Song Zining had just repelled another wave of attacks and returned to the temporary base, only to see a corpse in the corner. The face was covered by a war-robe, but the legs indicated it was a young girl.

There were only a few young girls in the White City. Song Zining’s heart sank as he walked over, lifted the war-robe, and saw the childishly innocent face, tasting bitterness.

Lying there was the 19th Princess.