Chapter 94: The Overthrow of the Four Trees

From all directions came the aura of exotic beasts, uncountable, too numerous to number. In an instant, Qianye relied upon instinct, calculating at least two hundred thousand. That sheer number had become the total of the second wave of exotic beasts who surged from that gate. And still, this forest undoubtedly concealed countless yet to awaken exotic beasts.

Heart startled in that fleeting moment, but immediately Qianye chilled his emotions into ice, letting not one ripple disturb his surface. He knew, too well in truth, that venturing into a forest of such magnitude lay dangerously on the edge of reckoning given his present station.

Though, to Qianye, personal safety was never prerequisite, never an absolute condition when determining action. Because never having enough time shackled him. The distance elite power-hunters gaze longingly at when beholding the holy mountain symbolized the chasm he must overcome—a vast emptiness vast enough to drench all others with despair.

Nor did he have better choices—his singular course perpetuated a steady procession of footsteps, step following desperate step. Only during moments of peril did his thoughts linger upon dangers—his singular focus on progressing forward. In his heart, to halt or retreat had forever been stricken from his choices.

Qianye shimmered repeatedly across space, weaving effortlessly through a tide of berserk exotic beasts, until swiftly arriving at the heart of the forest.

There, in the centre, all remained fundamentally unchanged—the same spatial composition: each of the four corner quarters claimed sacred trees, confirming suspicions regarding this locale's formidable aura. There stood now an enlarged pond so deep, more apt called a small lake.

The islet in its midst spanned even broader. Thereon emerged a stone hall; its crown supported upon twelve colossal pillars—an even loftier central stone throne. Slumped within the central dominion, leaning one arm's palm to brow was a Six-Armed commander; in slumber still formidable. Its form dwarfed prior beings—its body wreathed throughout in peculiar armaments uncrafted of mundane forging, seemingly grown naturally—armor seemingly intrinsic.

Outside the hall, spikes, even grander and thicker, jutted skyward in rows—an array—each column storing valuable, mobile resources transformed into deadly arms in a general's hand.

A flash of déjà vu seized Qianye. Reflecting slightly, memories stirred—recalling the being akin to the Six-Armed general within those vast whirlpools, similarly majestic, slightly smaller yet possessing overwhelming dominance. No longer fitting such humble titles as creature or mere commander, "general" suited more accurately.

Scanning transpired within instants. Yet a shift stirred within Six-Arms; the general stirred, its sensitivity alarmed.

Qianye gave it zero chance of response: he fired at a sacred tree as always expected. Sure enough—the general echoed previous kin, surging immediately with wrath, disregarding still-petrifying body as he tore outwards from his resting hall with one mighty sweep of his arm. The projectile's power crumbled beneath his grip—but not unharmed—the hand erupted with stone flakes and he roared slightly aloud.

Before a breath could draw to completion, the enraged general released a roar beyond the limits of fury when his stone throne disintegrated almost totally in but one blast from a daring foe. Qianye, having seized the opening, blinked himself, unable to believe the one shot utterly failed to pulverize the throne. Evidently the forces contained within this forest of holy trees defied all convention.

Instantaneous calculations erupted in his mind. Speedily raising his pistol once more—he focused sight upon the throne's shattered core. Observing within an eyeblink, the general reacted in panic, surging forward across vast space back to the hall. Positioning the shattered seat between himself and potential shots caused cracks across limbs newly formed alongside pieces breaking from its petrified flesh, revealing flesh underneath.

Narrowly sheltered from further onslaught, the general awaited a next shot which failed to come. Jerking gaze upwards abruptly—only just glimpsing Darkfeather almost merged into a singular line directly before his eyes!

The general possessed zero time to even begin to react. In a mere fleeting thought—Darkfeather penetrated his brow—disappearing forever past his awareness.

Qianye’s phantom rippled away, vanished utterly without observing results. In his wake, the Six-Armed general, hands clenched about its cranium, screamed forth in agony, shattering silence of the entire forest into a million shattered pieces.

In the blink of an eyelash, Qianye emerged beyond forest borders. Upon reappearing from the void, he immediately collapsed—hitting earth powerlessly after barely mustering strength through great willpower. The constant draining usage of Void Flash brought salvation at enormous cost, now drained completely in escape from uncountable exotic beast legions.

Yet safety had not found him—outside too, he urgently analyzed directions, pushing forward toward behind a large boulder, summoning from his Anduya Space a pre-secured motorcycle, revving up power—blasting back toward camp desperately.

From forest's mouth erupted endless exotic beasts, hearing mechanical roaring of escaping vehicles as a bright beacon—gathering pursuit relentlessly behind—before gradually slowing at forest edges, dazed movements spreading confusion—save only a few dozen who continued the relentless chase.

Slumped low upon his metal companion, the boiling blood within stirred with violent surges of healing vitality while he rode. Suddenly halting the bike, he turned around—charging directly into the relentless pursuers. With only a few brutal sweeps the entire group of exotic beasts fell slaughtered to the ground, upon which he swiftly mounted the cycle for renewed rapid escape.

Return to headquarters eased the storm in his heart. Though among Six-Armed beings variation in strength persisted—they moved uniformly within predictable behavioral patterns—their landscapes identical through numerous forests. These habits opened many chances toward strategic leverage.

This particular Six-Armed general, surviving back-to-back Origin Shots, was severely weakened from earlier damage. Beyond all doubt now he’d emerge from recuperation to take furious revenge regardless of injuries endured—an ideal moment long prepared by Qianye. The ten massive naval guns mounted behind the fort defenses had been positioned entirely for this moment alone.

Back at command central, he sounded an immediate order: prepare comprehensively for war—the next moments saw him requisition warriors from rear-base locations at highest alert level possible. In half a day’s time—a former outpost constructed with capacity for five thousand warriors found itself flooded with an overwhelming eight thousand elite units. Endless rows of guns turned vigilantly towards the horizons and the heavens—silent observers, awaiting the arrival of an encroaching exotic beast army.

Morning horizon darkened as silhouettes appeared. Qianye released restrained pressure as this affirmed the general's stubborn vengeful resolve, injury no check against the decision driving the Six-Arms army beyond forest safety. Truly, could he have found alternative options had he stayed hidden within his woods?

Would the general instead have remained hidden—burying all energy deep into recovery—even Qianye might’ve lost hope confronting a being who restructured power beyond his limits. Especially when such a Six-Arms rested encircled amongst uncountable beasts.

Conveniently however—should the general emerge into open battlefield accompanied by followers, everything might be handled neatly according to this idealized scenario envisioned earlier.

Arriving at central powerhouse, he announced with chilling tone: “Battle Stations!”

Alarm bells shrieked instantly, piercing silence within fortress stronghold. Emanations burst forth from the powerhouse exit—ejecting dense clouds of steam as metallic howls echoed through vents, marking immediate maximum-output activation upon the entire structure.

The moment the first exotic beasts entered effective distance, volleys erupted—rapid-fire interwoven barrages slicing through enemy numbers like wheat flattened by a sickle blade. With this onslaught the density reduced by multiple levels instantly.

Then entered into play our heaviest weaponry—naval guns began thundering rounds, sweeping vast swaths of destruction into heartland formations. Upon air force arrival the beasts discovered themselves greeted by fire nets thick enough to obscure sight completely.

The last survivors surged within headquarters gates—soon recognizing they were trapped deep within a mechanical steel forest—shields and lethal axes glimmering with deadly promises in their cold gleams. Rank upon line of werewolf warriors clad in heavy armor spun axe blades like meat-grinding machines—slaughtering anything grounded with ruthless efficiency.

Though numerically matched against the second legions emerging previously, decreased command due to ruined sacred thrones hindered battlefield coordination. Furthermore unlike before, Qianye’s forces had adapted immensely over this journey forward—gone were the tribes equipped with barely two steel fragments as chestplates. The very werewolves dominating present defenses were armored to match gods of destruction.

In extended colonization of this newly explored paradise named the New World, Qianye perfected various combat tactics; ironically, among all, his most effective approach defied strict classification as "military strategy". Instead this could best fall under “Logistics & Arms Procurement”—leveraging a blend of threat and opportunity—enticements of rewards, debt strategies, and binding political favors with elite families. Using such techniques, he acquired limitless stockpiles, weapons and bullets to overwhelm all.

Only one truly effective tool countering exotic beasts remained: overwhelming firepower. And what better idea for countering these things than unleashing even greater volumes of that very firepower?

Now in this war base—a spiny, spiked hedgehog metaphorically—it punctured charging exotic beasts with bloodletting precision. Their demise resulted not purely from superior martial strength under Commander Qianye—but more accurately from being crushed under oceans of silver and gold spent upon bullets—each bullet priced at an exorbitant cost no family, however distinguished its rank, dared squander.

And so the blood-drenched conflict ultimately ended in Qianye’s triumph. Simultaneously he tracked down the general’s hidden spot.

All Six-Armed exotic beasts followed identical behavior—favoring directing attacks from afar while hiding amidst the consistent monster species types each possessed. Such rarity ensured swift detection with but a glance at unusual beasts in any given setting; invariably their largest individual sheltered commanding figures within their bulk.

Naturally even with such consistent observation Qianye’s caution persisted; learning early in Huangquan that complacency kills. Yet these repeated tendencies—while predictable—brought him mild amusement while preparing extensively for unexpected deviation. Regardless, however, this redundancy reduced war costs dramatically, ultimately turning beneficial.

Thus the Six-Armed general, without prior warning, found himself targeted under focused onslaught—multi-directional fire from great naval guns barraged his vicinity simultaneously. Heavy ballista launchers unleashed guided high explosives—obliterating host-beasts utterly upon the initial volleys. Within its hidden shell the general took collateral devastation—stunned—dazed amidst fresh layers of wounds. Although the bombardment proved insufficient for elimination, the ultimate crippling injuries came with two well-fired follow-up opening strikes from Qianye.

Yet astonishingly, the general’s vitality surpassed expectations. In such circumstances his capacity for recovery astounded even mid-retreat—with Qianye chasing closely, tracking him with repeated attacks scoring critical strikes each time—yet somehow he still evaded death's gate. The general finally managed to flee backward toward safety within the forest walls.

Qianye certainly had no intention of letting go so easily—at the forest's perimeter he waited half the day for another Darkfeather's re-emergence upon the Wings of Beginning. Once confirmed prepared, he reentered this woodland domain.

Within—a strangely vacant forest presented itself, devoid of most exotic beast presences—vastly thinned since the majority had perished at the base.

Easily he moved within towards the central clearing. The quartet of sacred trees still stood unchanged; likewise the pond beyond remained undisturbed. The hall now bore merely foundations, the rubble cleared. The general lay slumped upon the shore’s border, half his body submerged in the waters. Within the aquatic depths, exposed tissue revealed thin membranous sheaths of regeneration; apparently he was in the midst of the healing process.

A rare opportunity allowed observation of the general’s self-healing methods for the first time—such a lifeform required extraordinary resource intake—orders of magnitude beyond other living beings. That swift a cellular restoration suggested the juices of the sacred trees played a miraculous part in assisting his recovery.

Qianye interfered decisively with recovery—flinging four origin-force hand grenades—each targeting a designated sacred tree. Explosions thundered through the grove; trees trembled—the great shockwave disturbing the lake beyond comprehension, rippling waves violently.

Struck from dormant slumber, the general awoke immediately. At sight of the trees wounded—once again fury exploded, half-closed previous wounds reopening anew, spewing crimson fountains.

Behind the Commander, wings fluttering—released a single black Darkfeather—striking yet again—burying itself this time at the precise center of the general’s brow.

Hands raised to his head, the general screamed with an aching agony—unmatched—unrelenting. Body shaking violently, muscle and fiber tore asunder, gaping gorges and fissures opening within his anatomy as flesh erupted in flurried fragments all at once.

Even with the general wounded badly—as danger perception persisted undimmed, Qianye chose not to stay—he immediately withdrew, wisely trusting instinct. Not in vain either, as moments after his exit, flying stone spears screamed into the place where his feet had previously stood, now embedded in the ground from which they had erupted.

Escaping deep outside forest confines, Qianye paused to confirm the general’s pursuit extremely unlikely with injuries he had suffered.

Allowing recovery half a day’s duration alongside storing energy for another opening strike—he once more sneaked into the forest—this time administering a final decisive blow to the general midway through the regeneration cycle.

So it repeated continuously—an endurance race testing recovery rates between them both. The general accelerated absorption speeds from the surrounding lake—but still fell short before the reserves accumulated in Qianye’s Black Book and the potency circulating through his own blood.

Thus through the ceaseless back-and-forth struggle of three entire days, the Six-Armed general ultimately collapsed completely. All that remained behind was an immaculately transparent crystal.

Thus, using strategy woven together with luck, fate and timing—he seized control and dominance over the holy forest of four sacred trees.