Following the Starforger Artarius out of the space-ti rift, Jeming returned once more to the core tiline world.
The scene before him was dramatically different from when he had left.
The enormous chanical sphere still hovered above the temple altar, but the energy conduits that had been frantically flickering on its surface had now returned to a stable state.
The entire sphere emitted a sowhat rigid yet extraordinarily stable blue-white glow.
The oppressive sense of will that had once filled the space had vanished without a trace, leaving only the deep hum unique to the operation of massive machinery.
Artarius stood in front of the sphere, his gray robe fluttering, and said to Jeming from the side: "The ’noise’ inside has been cleaned out. The chaotic consciousness aggregation with strong bias has been erased, leaving only the underlying logical protocols necessary to maintain the core functions of the Ti Paradox Generator."
His tone was calm, as if he had rely dealt with a trivial task.
But Jeming could imagine what that ’erasure’ implied— the final echoes of a civilization’s struggle being entirely formatted.
"Next," Artarius’s gaze turned to the sphere, seemingly penetrating it to see a deeper structure of ti, "I will reverse ti once more while extracting this sphere from the tiline of the ’ti rift world.’ Let this chanical sphere, acting as the core control unit, ’fall’ back into the reality of the primary plane with all its intact functions."
He turned to Jeming, instructing: "You need to go back and inform Frost to prepare for the final cycle. When the sphere returns, the entire Ti Paradox Generator will operate in its ’complete form’ on the primary plane for the first ti. Although its aggressive will has been removed, its basic functions will still operate according to preset rules. We need to fully take over, test, and initially seal the entire system in this cycle."
Jeming nodded, understanding in his heart.
From previous information, he already knew that this plane was designed as a ’super weapon’, wherein the ’core control unit’ (sphere) was supposed to work closely with the ’external execution unit’ (Reaper Race and planar environnt) as an integrated whole.
But the fearful will had forcefully extracted the core unit to an independent ti interstice for ’safety’, causing the weapon system to remain in a semi-paralyzed state of ’control core offline’ for a long ti.
It could only operate inefficiently based on basic instincts and limited preset protocols.
Now, as the core is about to return, this ti-space weapon, which had either been sealed... or had never truly been fully activated, will reveal its original design for the first ti.
"I understand, Your Excellency," Jeming replied in a deep voice.
Artarius said no more, raising his hand to gently cut beside him, and a space-ti rift leading to the primary plane Wizard Camp quietly opened.
Jeming took one last look at the steadily operating chanical sphere and stepped into the rift.
Jeming hadn’t been gone long, but the chaos within the camp had largely subsided.
The Reaper Race army, having lost subsequent command and support, was quickly cleaned up by the responding wizards.
At this mont, a large number of wizards were advancing into the depths underground, clearing out remaining burrowing units and repairing the damaged earth vein structures.
Jeming quickly found Frost, who was deploying tasks at a temporary command node, and conveyed Starforger Artarius’s orders.
After listening, Frost’s eyes flashed with a glimr, wasting no words as he imdiately used the Magic Net to issue the highest-level battle readiness command to the entire army.
[All units, enter ’endga protocol’ readiness status. Repeat, endga protocol readiness status. Upon completing current combat tasks, imdiately retract to the main base, construct the final defensive circle, and await further instructions.]
The order was short yet weighty.
All receiving the command, whether in fierce battle or resting, instantly turned imnsely solemn.
They knew that once the endga protocol was triggered, it ant this lengthy and bizarre recursive battle was finally reaching a decisive mont.
Jeming then returned to the research area at the camp’s center, thodically organizing and sealing all core research data and record crystals accumulated over fifteen cycles.
Shortly after the command was issued, without any warning, the familiar tug from the root of the world swept across the entire plane once more.
The sixteenth cycle had begun.
But this ti, the process and sensation of the cycle were entirely different from before.
In past cycles, it was like resetting a precise clock, stable and chanical in process.
This ti, however, Jeming could faintly ’feel’ that within the torrent of ti reversal, there seed to be a sense of resistance, a discord.
It was as if sothing imnse and heavy was being forcibly ’dragged’ down from higher dinsions and embedded in this world’s inherent ti structure.
When the dizziness passed, and Jeming ’reappeared’ at the familiar camp’s edge, he imdiately detected a bizarre change in the battlefield atmosphere.
In the distance, the black swarm of the Reaper Race was still gathering, but their formation appeared more chaotic than ever.
Absent was the clear stratification and orderly advancent of past assaults; they seed more like headless flies clumping together, emitting chaotic and noisy screeches.
Even more astonishing was, in the air above the swarm, those imposing, composed silhouettes of Sixth, Seventh, even Eighth Level Reaper Race leaders still hovered there.
But these high-tier creatures appeared like puppets with their strings cut, motionless.
The brilliance in their compound eyes dimd, their aura still powerful, yet devoid of all vibrant ’will’ and ’vitality’!
The eradication of the will within the sphere left them consciousness-less, with only powerful physiques and energy instincts sustaining their suspension.
"How can this be... what’s wrong with the leaders?!"
"Quick! Awaken the leaders!"
Among the Low Level Reaper Race, so slightly wiser individuals sent out urgent ssages.
They tried to approach those suspended, statue-like high-tier kin.
However, given the vast disparity in power between the two sides, this action is undoubtedly fatal.
Having lost conscious control, the bodies of those high-tier Reaper Race fully rely on instinctive neural reflexes and preset energy protection chanisms to operate.
Any unauthorized approach is deed a "threat."
Splatter! Slash! Boom!!
So attempted to touch the Reaper Race, only to be pulverized by energy shields automatically triggered by high-tier individuals on contact; others were sliced into segnts by the unconscious swing of sharp limbs.
Even more severely, so triggered aggressive reflexes, directly evaporated by instinctively released energy beams!
Low-level Reaper Race instantly plunged into greater panic and chaos.
They couldn’t comprehend what happened; all they knew was that their relied-upon highest command suddenly beca untouchable statues of death!
At the peak of this chaos...
The sky, suddenly darkened.
Not by clouds shrouding, but a deeper, almost as if the starry sky itself lowered "darkness."
An indescribable vast will gently yet irresistibly swept through the entire battlefield.
It was the Star Forge Artarius.
His true form seed to be overlooking and interfering with this plane from higher dinsions.
In the shocked gaze of all Wizards and Reaper Race, the bodies of the unconscious high-tier Reaper Race, as if drawn by invisible threads, flew in unison toward the Wizard Camp, disappearing one by one behind a subtly rippling space at the camp’s center.
They have been "retrieved."
The chaos among the Reaper Race at this mont turned into utter despair and collapse.
So more intelligent beings imdiately realized what had happened, emitting shrill and resentful wails.
Collapsing to the ground, their compound eyes lost all gleam.
They understood that signal.
The highest tier has been utterly captured, with even their bodies taken away; this war, has co to its end.
They... have been thoroughly abandoned, or rather, treated as "war spoils" awaiting disposition by a higher existence.
Within the Wizard Camp, after brief silence, there erupted unsuppressable commotion.
Artarius’s figure did not directly appear, but his voice rang clearly in each Wizard’s soul, calm yet authoritative:
"All retrieved high-tier Reaper Race ’bodies’ will be distributed as additional war spoils of this plane conquest battle. Commander Frost will draft the allocation sche based on past reincarnation cycles’ docunted military rits contribution."
Upon hearing this, the camp resonated with a sound of gasps, followed by nurous searing gazes!
Those are at least Sixth Level high-tier Reaper Race bodies!
Even without consciousness, they themselves are excellent research materials and powerful biological weapon bases.
And the subsequent order from the Star Forge made the atmosphere boil further:
"Moreover, a long-term war mission is issued: All Combat Wizards, ensure your own safety while attempting to capture and bring back Reaper Race individuals, regardless of level. During the mission, I will use low-level military rits to infinitely exchange for living individuals."
The order was clear and unambiguous.
Anyone with insight knew that this mission implied Artarius Wizard planned to use these Reaper Race as servant species.
Which makes sense, after all, the Reincarnation Plane, even though a "failed" weapon, is still a strategic level weapon with significant remodeling and fortification value.
And the Reaper Race being part of this weapon must be diligently collected.
Almost the mont the command’s echo faded, countless figures shot out like arrows from the bowstring in all directions from the camp.
Because once this command was issued, it ant that those scattered outside, Reaper Race losing unified command and plunged into chaos, instantly transford into walking evidences of military rits!
Combat Wizards’ eyes glowed green, like starving wolves lunging toward flocks of sheep, scrambling to plunge into the despair-stricken chaotic black sea!
The light of magic, the roar of summoned beasts, the excited battle cries instantly replaced the previous killing intent, turning the battlefield into a fervorous "harvest" scene.
Jeming did not rush out with the crowd.
He, like other Logistics Departnt Wizards, stayed in place, yet their gaze collectively focused on the Star Forge in the camp center, eyes filled with undisguised anticipation.
Sure enough, Artarius’s voice rang again, this ti directly targeting all Wizards in the logistics research sequence:
"Issuing the highest priority research task: Form the ’Ti Paradox Generator Analysis and Mastery Project Team.’ Conduct comprehensive research, analysis, testing, and preliminary mastery of the retrieved ’Ti Paradox Generator’ core unit and the soon-to-be-completed plane system. There will be no fixed military rit rewards for the task."
As the words fell, the breathing of the logistics wizards grew heavier, eyes bursting with a fla even fiercer than combat wizards seeing military rits!
Although this task seed to offer no reward, everyone actually knew, the knowledge generated during the task was the reward itself.
Research authorization of a complete space-ti weapon for logistics wizards was, in itself, the greatest reward!
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