Arnold and Gleamyellow charged towards their enemies. As if there was a silent agreent, the winged dragon went for the banana while the giant bear faced the potato.
Low-rank Botanians that were brought here by Gleamyellow found themselves in yet another grueso battle. Following orders from their level-two leaders, they tried to distract the aliens to the best of their ability.
The winged dragon and the giant bear were rather pleased with their new opponents. The winged dragon could finally utilize its agile body and ultra-speed flight to dodge Arnolds vicious attacks and the giant bear found an equal in brute strength.
Two battles were happening simultaneously in the valley. The battle between the towering level-three lifeforms was the very embodint of violent beauty. However, the hardships suffered by the lower Botanians were bloody and excruciatingly harsh to stomach.
The potato Botanian and the giant bear looked like two differently-sized children. They wrestled and tossed each other in the unnad valley, stirring up a thick veil of dust. More Botanians flooded into the valley to provide support and their battle grew ruthless soon enough.
anwhile, in the spatial fortress that hovered above, caster and knights donned their robes. They watched the real-ti footage of the battle between the level-three Botanians and slaves on a large screen in the command room calmly.
Astralists, who were wise individuals who desired to solve the mysteries of all planes in the astral realm, were trusted as the commanders for all of Zauberias conquests. There were rarely any mistakes or loopholes in their decisions.
How much longer should we wait? asked a Himlritter in a suit of ochre armour. Thirty thousand knights had been deployed on Botania as second batch reinforcents. If the two level-three Botanians werent defeated soon, theyd likely cause severe casualties to the knights.
One more day, an old man cloaked in a hood of black answered hoarsely. The astralists cracking voice suggested that he was a man of few words.
Cant we speed it up? The Himlritter was running out of patience. The Ritters that remained in the fortress would be landing in less than a day and the Botanians were bound to respond correspondingly. While an army of thirty thousand knights above level-one was close to indestructible, the Hall of Knights refused to take risks. Minimizing casualties was always preferred.
There was a brief mont of silence before the astralist answered, The soonest we could move will be in half a day. However, it is likely that one will escape alive.
That is good enough! Lets stick to that, replied the Himlritter. He was one of the few Himlritters left in the spatial fortress. As an authority figure of the Hall of Knights, it was his responsibility to consider the interests and risks of the hall. He cursed internally, easy for you to say. None of the casters have been sent to battle yet. But alas, he refused to say it outright. The Sanctum and Hall of Knights of the Three Western Isles had always been on friendly terms; he couldnt risk their unity during the height of the planar war.
The casters and knights in the command room soon lost interest in the battle. Instances of four level-three lifeforms fighting were rare but not a novelty in planar wars. Plus, the major monsters involved were slaves so it didnt pique their attention. They turned their focus to the happenings at the bottom of the spatial fortress instead.
Close to a thousand Magisters concentrated their mana while murmuring spells. They hovered above Botania, the hems of their robes flapping audibly with the wind. The atmosphere gradually thickened with dourness. This was a common technique used by the Three Western Isles in planar wars, where near a thousand Magisters above level-one would co together and gather their mana while level-two and three Magisters would act as conduits and the centre respectively. The resulting mana blast was strong enough to annihilate peak level-three lifeforms in re seconds. They were targeting Fertilia, particularly in the valley where the battle was happening.
Apart from that, the spatial fortress main cannon began to charge with energy absorbed imasurable from magic crystals. The orange glowing spot at its muzzle gradually deepened into a deep red, before finally becoming a rich maroon. The cannon had its aim locked on the sa valley the Magisters were about to attack. The weapon offered sufficient power to destroy an edge of their fortified spatial fortress, so it naturally beca the favourite among knights and casters alike. Everyone was curious about the extent of damage that the minor plane would sustain from the full-charged cannon. To them, the lives of the battling winged dragon and giant bear slave were not worth an ounce of concern. To die for Zauberias glory was supposed to be their honour anyway.
More black spots began to approach Botanian grounds. Thirty thousand knights were frankly nothing to the Botanians below but the potentials and capabilities they had were not to be underestimated.
The Botanians sensed increasing pressure as the knights neared landing. The knights were physically smaller than them but the power in their lithe bodies was indescribably potent. The extra sensitivity of their senses had allowed the more advanced Botanians to detect the gap in their strength.
Quick! We need support from the Holy City! A level-one Botanian scread at his subordinates with great urgency. But before he could utter another word, the whoosh of an arrow took his life.
Not far away, a level-two Erdritter kept his bow and hurried after the rest of the knights for Wilderia, where the targeted Battlezone 7 was at. anwhile, three of the seven level-three Himlritters began leading a group of level-two Erdritters to Fertilia, where the valley was located.
One of the Himlritters, donned in a suit of black armour, studied his ti quantifier and stared at the pitch crack in the sky. Should be about ti, aye?
It should be happening soon The other Himlritters reply was abruptly cut short by a scarlet beam that ca from the sky. Accompanied by an insane warping of elents, the beam of destruction graced Fertilia.
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