Chapter 656 — The Trap

This would be the most challenging and most dangerous operation since the Cecil army's founding.

But before this operation succeeded, before the secrets behind it could be made public, the vast majority of those taking part would not know its true nature.

Mortals would attempt to hunt and kill a god—though it was only an artificial false god, though the most critical step would be carried out by a powerful ally, the essence of this operation was still nothing short of astonishing. In a world where religions were everywhere and acts of faith were exceedingly common, ordinary people would never dare imagine such a thing. Even the mighty and highly organized Cecil Legion, if confronted with these truths before the operation began, would likely suffer shaken morale and diminished fighting strength.

Most soldiers would know only the orders issued from above; even a great many mid- and low-ranking commanders knew only the content of their own portion of the task. Those who truly knew what they were about to face were only the army's highest commanders, the most senior officials of the Administrative Hall, and the one who had devised the entire plan.

Iron Throne Commander Ma Qi stood within the tactical car of the armored train. Through the shield-covered windows, he saw soldiers bustling across the armed platforms and every part of the defense line, saw the vehicles transporting ammunition, and the war machines rolling toward each node of the line. And behind it all, the sky hung low and gloomy over the edges of the earth, while in the distance the scorched city walls and towers stood silent upon the plains. Everything seemed heavy and oppressive, as if heralding the arrival of a storm.

An adjutant in a black officer's uniform entered the tactical car, saluted Knight Ma Qi, and announced loudly: "General, all units have moved into position, the railway line has been inspected, and all engine crews report normal conditions!"

Ma Qi roused himself from his thoughts and nodded: "Very good—where is that monster now?"

"The target is still wandering to the southwest, but on the whole it is gradually approaching the defense line," the adjutant answered at once. "Currently about fifteen kilometers away."

"Has the 'Brave Ones' assault team reached its designated position?"

"The assault team has arrived and is circling the target's perimeter, awaiting orders."

"Continue standing by..." Ma Qi drew a breath softly, then let it out slowly. "The order will come soon."

"Yes, General!!" The adjutant answered crisply, turned, and returned to the communications station. Ma Qi withdrew his gaze from the window and looked back at the holographic image projected above another magic-net terminal.

That sacred yet eerie, majestic yet terrifying giant deer was wandering restlessly across the plains. Compared to when it had first appeared, it had clearly awakened further. Some power that humans could scarcely comprehend, one that exceeded the common understanding of "magic," shrouded its surroundings. Wherever it passed, within a radius of several hundred meters, anomalies occurred: half the land was scorched and searing, utterly devoid of life, while the other half was overrun with endless blossoms and vines, brimming with vitality—as though the natural principle of life and death had been given some manner of concrete manifestation, unfolding naturally around this monster.

Yet this was no monster. This was a god—the God of Nature, resurrected by the madmen of the Church of All-Ending through forbidden means, at the cost of countless human sacrifices.

Whenever he thought of this truth, Ma Qi felt his heartbeat quicken. In the decades of his life past, he could never have imagined that he would take part in such an affair within his lifetime. Yet as the priests so often said—fate is fickle...

But ironically, if even a god could be manufactured, if even a god could be killed, then did the words of the "priests" still hold any meaning?

Ma Qi reined in his thoughts and let his quickened heartbeat gradually settle.

He was a knight, a noble. Though Cecil's noble system had been turned upside down, though the knights of the new era were vastly different from those of old, he would still never betray the oath he had sworn when he first took up the knight's sword.

Since he had already decided to serve, then he would serve with all his loyalty to the end.

...

The winding Whitewater River flowed from west to east, past Cecil, past Gelan, and on into the lands of the Eastern Province. This river of life in the southern region abruptly slowed upon the soil of the Eastern Province, splitting into several branches that became slender trickles among fertile fields and hills. And before the first fork of the river channel, White Sand Hills lay quietly upon the riverbank as it had for centuries past, its back to the plains of the Eastern Province, gazing afar at the mountains of the Southern Province.

The mine workers and technicians had already been evacuated. Only the security forces of the White Sand Mining Company—including a combat battalion, two tank platoons, and artillery units fixed upon the high grounds throughout the mine—remained to maintain order, lest some uninformed Eastern Province noble accidentally ruin this carefully prepared stage. And before long, this security force too would withdraw, to minimize casualties as much as possible.

On a high ground near the river in the mining district, Hom gazed at the Whitewater River rippling with waves not far off, and at the magic-energy rail extending in a straight line out from the small grove north of the riverbank. His expression held no small measure of worry.

"I'm afraid this mining district can't be saved, can it?" this mine overseer, born a serf, said to the non-human woman beside him. "An operation on this scale... even when we fought at Boulder Fortress, there wasn't this much commotion."

"The mine's facilities will certainly need to be rebuilt, but even the most brutal war rarely destroys nature itself." Til gave the tip of her upright tail a gentle flick. She glanced at the young man before her—this overseer was no military leader, nor a senior official of the Administrative Hall, so he did not know the full secrets of this operation. He knew only that the Cecil Legion would join with "non-human allies" to ambush some powerful monster, and so Til did not tell him too much.

But what she said was no mere comfort—it was the wisdom the sea sirens had distilled over their long history.

Mortal wars could usually destroy only mortals themselves; they could hardly shake nature itself. Even if this time they were hunting an artificial god, this fact would not change.

In the end, the sea sirens had never regarded the "gods" worshipped by humans as gods at all.

"In an hour, you'll evacuate with the security forces," Til said, looking up at the sky, where clouds were gathering and the radiance of the giant sun was gradually being veiled. "I need to prepare."

As she spoke, she uncoiled her coiled tail. That bewitching, uncanny serpent's tail moved like some magic vine, and a faint glow of magic gradually rose upon its surface. Hom instinctively glanced at the non-human limb of this "non-human woman." Though he knew she was an ally from the Southern Province, he could not help but feel a trace of unease. Curious, he asked: "I've heard some legends about sea sirens... told by a bard. He said that before the seas were blockaded, in the age when human ships could still sail to the far oceans, sailors would occasionally encounter sea sirens, and you would often sing songs of magic upon the sea, luring ships into traps... Is that true?"