Bao Zhengcheng could scarcely believe his own eyes! Had they actually survived the night? Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, he felt a surge of joy—having endured this battle meant that help was on its way!
Having inflicted crippling loses on the Dark Races’ allied forces in these two engagements, particularly wiping out countless of their high-ranking warriors, a battered and diminished foe stood before them. Against such crippled forces even one regiment of the Expeditionary Forces was sufficient crush them utterly.
“We won!”
“Reinforcements! Finally, help is on its way!”
Faint bursts of jubilation echoed from all sides amidst the ruins. Surviving soldiers crawled from among the battered lines, gradually regathering and re-establishing formation, for organization was their key to continued survival.
Once reassembled at the ruined stronghold Baiye discovered that fewer than two hundred combat capable remained, their original Company Commander long fallen. By seniority, the rank of highest standing belonged to Baiye in this moment, and with Bao’s aid, reorganized combat units were formed and defensive positions repositioned, after which the weary soldiers were ordered rest as they anxiously anticipated reinforcements.
Moments ticked by endlessly. A colorless pre-dawn began to show through faint grayness across the sky, igniting within every soldier’s heart a longing to hear gunfire from outside their town. Sunlight finally crept upon the village, indicating nearly noontime. Yet the unease weighing heavily on the soldiers’ minds refused to lift. No sound from beyond stirred.
Faint noises of chaos drifted over from the enemy camp in occasional outburst, growing more intense as morning winds strengthened, further highlighting the quiet desolation around the bastion.
Were they truly alone with absolutely no sign of relief force in sight? Then surely all nearby strongpoints would soon meet similar fates. Behind their positions, just twenty kilometers away sat a critical human outpost, a settlement of dirt and stone where many soldiers from this garrison held family.
BAi Ye and Bao each carried yet one more heavy secret: that falsified battle map—was it aimed directly at their 131st Company or at the whole security detachment guarding this region?
Later that afternoon across the desolate plains advanced a small light vehicle hurrying towards the 60th Division’s HQ. It was driven by Ye Muwei carrying as his passenger the always calm and composed GU Lilun. Glancing momentarily toward a miniature primal power based sundail in-hand, he remained eerily calm; yet every subtle movement caused increasing anxiety within Miss Ye, as she unthinkinly accelerated the car’s speed even further.
Upon the distant horizon, buildings denoting this camp gradually emerged.
After confirming credentials at checkpoins they passed successfully into the military compound only to be struck immediately with shock—the entire headquarters had been completely vacated, with nearly half weaponry including most armored fighting vehicles gone, while actual soldiers completely dispersed! One full battalion seemed to be still left on duty however.
Instantly grabbing hold of an officer who passed by them, Lilun leaned dangerously in while roaring with all fury, demanding, “What exactly happened to this base? Where’s the damned infantry?!”
Stifling almost instantly, the officer nearly reached for his sidearm before realization set in regarding how unreasonably tight these gripps had been. Lilun quickly released, quickly regaining his poise and demanded immediately speak to camp’s commanding officer.
Very quickly a Colonel rushed forward, humbly offering explanations.
After hearing all, Lilün said slowly yet ominously: “If I heard correctly then…Miss QiQí came under official high commands and completely withdrew entire troops belonging the Sixtiets Division?!”
“That’s precisely how events took place sir,” nodded enthusiastically and flattered the Colonel despite being vastly superior in both age military experience—nonetheless,惹麻烦ing anyone connected Ministry of Defense? Absolutely Not. Quickly followed by even more details volunteered, confirming that this young aristocrat had actually come during dawn; ordered full 60 division troops prepared and mobilized by morning; dispatched by noontime, leading all the high command together alongside specialized units even half an hour prior.
Now composed once again, Gu’s mood was anything than tranquil as he said chillingly: “It surprises me you know that my previously transmitted instructions ordering the exact same movement was received and acknowledged…you are likely well aware of the serious repercussions when an organized unit disobeys central command directives according our Empire’s Code?”
Still chuckling nervously, the aging Colonel had already adopted the humble headshake-like gesture, “Yet madam was here personally we literally held no powers of refusal.”
Then, an inadvisably intrusive question came from the lady: “And what exactly mission is Miss sending Sixtiets division forward too?!”
Silence reigned heavy, no responses from either end.
The Colonel honestly had no clue—while L’ilun understood clearly now: Madame, first Lady of Jing-An hall passed long ago. Yet resources she originally controlled back within the Southern Clans apparently did not pass fully to the House of Yin—as was expected from Yin Qiqí herself: the power remains firmly hers.
As Sun moved slowly above horizon behind clouds drifting further into higher realms of heavens, shadows thickened not solely upon surviving members within fortress walls but deep upon faces of the dark armies commanded by Baron Michael, the mood of the day darkening with it.
Within this darkness the Baron’s restless pacing and mounting rage filled his private enclosure. Blood-furiously furious was he with entire day’s wasted without rest. Although initial signs rebel actions had been forcibly contained—the very tension itself threatened further eruptions within his forces at any second.
Inside this central marquee, several corpses laid arranged; unmistakable by drained blood from werewolf bodies. Around them surrounded were werewolf officers, fierce glared directed unwaveringly at this noble, most led by one dark-maned brute whose rumbling growls vibrated threateningly in air.
He was himself heavily wounded during the conflict, bearing deep gashes likely caused by vampire long blade attacks sustained when he confronted and nearly slew multiple vampire knights single-handed during unrest within lines.
The baron’s migraine grew worse as he struggled for words, attempting desperately placate rising fury: “Of course these murders must come from without these forces under my orders—I simply won’t accept—”
Instinct dictated the response forming instinctively within him—words along the lines how high noble scion born in sacred lineage obviously despises impurities associated with tainted canid blood—but he caught it quickly before release—it’s exactly type remarks that might send the enraged weres flying towards their deaths.
Not that any rational thought govern beast nature: had Michael not already spent entire night suppressing uprisings within coalition troops?
No matter how deeply loathed the canine kind, overstepping boundaries here wouldn’t benefit anyone. That applied double given current alliance against opposing flesh-and-blood men, further exacerbated by presence two equally imposing generals upon battlefield – each leading blood-clan & feral lycanthropes. And even worse—wolf faction superior in pure combat effectiveness.
Considering this fact, softened his initial response tone accordingly promising: “I will investigate thoroughly! But let’s conquer dirt-fort first.”
“Investigation?” one snapped sharply “Then tell us: what timeframe are you promising!”
The frustration rising again momentarily but still holding control somewhat intact through clenched teeth: “Consequences shall appear immediately upon victory and definitely within 30 nights’ end.”
Eyes met amongst beast-men and nodded reluctantly before slowly withdrawing.
Baron immediately signaled for the empty bodies to removed away from command tent while ordering maps laid for future attacks.
Suddenly, noise erupted outside, chaotic and loud.
Frowning at these disturbances Baron finally barked threateningly, using full strength Primal Force enhancing his thunderclap-like query: “WHO DARE MAKES NOISE BEFORE COMAND TENT?”
He knew it might momentarily incapacitate junior-level warriors hearing the scream’s primal force, intentionally showcasing his powers to intimidate his unstable werewolf allies even momentarily.
Unexpectedly a smooth icy cold voice pierced back from the camp tent: “My lord Barôn, is that truly how you welcome our arrival?”
A shudder instantly seized his spine: “Sally?! Is this really your presence?!”
Slowly through the flaps entered a thin tall middle-aged human smiling gently: “Dearest friend Michael…so glad to know your memory recalls well old sound familiar still me!”
His complexion pale as death itself beneath well-managed tiny moustache while blood-crimson orbs surveyed camp surroundings, apparently already splattered with red from unknown adversaries beyond.
His skin turning slightly purple Michael eyed his unwelcome guest dangerously: “Visco-unt Lord Sa-li, you’re supposed nowhere near operational area under my charge last heard intelligence from superior command?”
Lord Sa-li remained ever the smiling gentleman: “I simply sensed your progress here lacked swiftness while learning disturbing news regarding heavy attrition within officers & high-grade warriors at your station. Naturally my heart grew worried and made this long pilgrimage specifically in attempt to render any and all assistance that may improve matters.”
“I have things perfectly within grasp, no need involve further assistance on your account.” Was his blunt rejection immediately thrown back without hesitation.
Undeterred smile remained: “And must we close discussion so suddenly to any further possibility assistance without consideration to motives first? Not quite arriving alone my coming here, instead serving only as advance harbinger to Her Highness.”
At mention words “her highness” alarm immediately struck Baron’s innermost self as his pulse thundered loudly within ear’s own echo chambers.
The concept “princess” carried unique implications deep within blood-kin culture. Only when a scion was formally anointed future rulers of the Princedom, or had they awakened primordial ancestral lineages, did the title truly get honored as prince or princess.
His grin still in place Sa-li turned momentarily to eavesdrop into noise of activity beyond, then after adjusting posture returned full attention toward entry awaiting posture reverent. Clearly a display for someone extremely prestigious approaching near future steps into marquee itself.
Baron’s eyelid twitched incessantly—whom could ever possess so formidable status command such absolute loyalty & respect even from Sa-li? His heart nearly gave within his chest upon realizing the answer.
Quickly cursing himself silently for allowing interruptions, he stormed outside urgently, discovering already within camp a troop of Vampires.
Men and women both radiated extraordinary beauty within this procession, dark capes lined with red embroidering each bearing single bright crimson Datura bloom upon collar high around necks.
Baron already instinctively felt this group held extreme threat as he assessed them—common rankers still at least equivalent Sir-level knights, not counting Saly at all—but additionally there stood even greater warrior figures, each clearly identified as battle-generals. But intimidation factor didn’t reside merely at personal combat level—they carried the mark, symbolizing one extremely prestigious dynasty—a name deeply etched into blood-histories, commanding influence impossible rivalled by most factions.
The mark of Monroe—apart from Duke Lord Frederick Monroe current recognized ruling royal blood, within the deepest sanctus chambers of house reportedly slumber still two Princes of forgotten eons.
Marching into view in seemingly sluggish gait that covered impossible ground quickly indeed, the figures materialized before Michael who rushed to greet them only just in time as the troop passed by not sparing any sideways glances at commander level of this outpost.
At head among their group walked forth elegantly a singular female individual stepping away slightly but confidently seating herself within previously his reserved command seat in bold disregard.
Fueled with both shock fear mixed Michael himself stormed inside once last time attempting to glimpse at new guest who sat undisturbed.
Even compared to typical vampire criteria her beauty defied all comprehension: a perfect face framing long silky black hair flowing smoothly down back, while even further confirming this unique identity by the sight of a pale golden datura flower clearly presented as a badge on upper left portion jacket collar.
Realizing instantly her significance upon such identifying insignia, Baron quickly approached in low bow asking carefully in trembling politeness: “Hh…Hhigheennness Princess Nightshade, I am utterly honored surprise visit of Your presence!”
Her words soft, calm—emotion absent: “I’ve heard the battlefield here fared poorly, so I decided personally witness what transpired.”
Still flustered Michael explained: “True, progress here in capturing the Bastion is somewhat…lacking in expected pace. I believe however that merely next attempt sufficient. A mere slight deviation has unfortunately delayed our success briefly—”
Unexpectedly, her fingers raised slowly to gesture towards inside marquee to several nearby were-wolves gathered previously in corner: “Leave,” voice not loud—but absolute final.
Stunned for split instant, followed by immediate anger: “For WHAT?!”
They faced forward defiant; meeting princess gaze directly as their pupils absorbed their distorted twisted reflected shadows within red eyes.
Two agonized long screeches then filled tent. Inside those two canines now collapsed convulsing, bone after bone crunching violently from deep within as their bodies transformed violently into hybrid werewolf-form, but grotesquely misshapen. With loud crunch and whimper after, both fell flat onto earthy floors without possibility of moving further.
Remaining eyes met two others still inside; slowly turning gaze fixed once more upon werewolf pairs still standing who felt their courage evaporate like morning fog. Not waiting to test their transformation’s limits, both fled screaming from camp completely forgetting even fallen comrade corpses behind.
Only at that point did she appear momentarily pleased. Without word her attendent Monroe guards threw the remaining werewolf-dead-bodies out unceremoniously onto earth outside flap.
With space finally cleansed for radius fifty-ten feet around tent the young noble then felt more comfort within atmosphere.
At her side then stepped forward Sa-li with an added explanation for the now anxious vampire: “Understood perhaps you were expecting our interference in capturing your dirt fortress as the central goal of Princess arrival tonight…however I must clarify this matter is merely of minor importance. Actually we’ll be remaining here precisely only night—to deal with human assaults you’ll be suffering tomorrow.”
“But—but attack by who specifically you are saying?” The commander’s eyes grew puzzled, questioning confused, “The 55th Division still fighting on northern front and the 58th hasn’t approach range vicinity for quite some time yet. Unless humans actually intend using airships in this land-bound warzone to relocate regimens?”
“Sixty Division.”
Suddenly Michael understood fully. Regardless he never previously informed 6D were redeployed, if princess spoke something so certain mustn’t be disregarded—it made complete sense that such an influential member royal family wouldn’t make travel here in the wastelands for nothing at all trivial.
Although the Imperial Army possessed many mixed-quality regimens near border region however most positioned upon such critical line of tension had achieved superior battle-readiness. Even in prime conditions with no loses suffered by his own alliance unit a fully formed armored human Army division of 60,000 should still be considered enough to totally eradicate his remaining numbers within hour.
Beyond those ruins and across those forsaken landscapes behind them, countless supply-trucks carried legions of SixTiets division soldiers charging directly towards Bastion’s location. Racing far ahead as point element for entire approaching swarm was a small fleet of lightweight armored reconnaissance SUVs tearing full sprint through the darkness.
Each individual within this forward convoy contained martial artists ranked above novice; practically every commander within Sixtiests entire seniority ranks consolidated into this small but powerful force. Their engines growled; headlights blazed in brilliant white through gloom settling across land.
Within middlemost lead convoy vehicle, Miss Qi sat yawning lazily while looking past glass bored expression: outside world scenery blurred passing like ghosts.
Suddenly, entire fleet abruptly decelerated, brakes slammed into earth halting progression. The lead lady leaned forward sharply question snapping: “Tell me… why precisely have we all stopped immediately and immediately like this?”
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