The Receding Crisis

A strange, piercing whistling sound drifted faintly through the air. After a brief delay, Wales heard a thunderous boom erupt from the southern plains.

It was a sound that had never appeared in the previous battles, a disturbance the Crystal Giants had never produced.

He raised his head toward the source of the blast, but could only vaguely make out a massive cloud of smoke and dust rising into the sky. Near the area where it rose, the Crystal Legion appeared to have fallen into confusion.

It was said that the magic weapons created by the Cecilians could strike from more than a dozen kilometers away, launching powerful explosive devices precisely onto their targets. Before the "heavenly fire" descended, that piercing whistle was their most distinctive sign.

Reinforcements were entering the battlefield—but they were still far away.

All the Holy Light barriers had shattered. Glowing particles scattered through the air and drifted down upon the walls. As they fell, arcs from the Crystal Legion began sweeping across the now-unprotected ramparts. Knights in shattered armor stepped forward with massive shields to fill the gaps in the defenses, while blood-soaked soldiers operated every trebuchet they could—whether it still had magical support or not—beginning this final counterattack.

The radiance of the giant sun pierced the clouds, spilling brilliant light across the land. Morning rays pouring through the clouds coated this ancient royal capital in gold. Everything—the bloodstained banners, shattered armor, coldly gleaming spears, enormous trebuchets and ballistae, and the Crystal tide surrounding the capital—glimmered beneath the sunlight.

"Our reinforcements have begun their attack!!" A blood-covered knight on the wall raised Ansu's royal banner high, waving it fiercely as he roared, "Hold on until the very—"

A sharp crystal spike shot up from the edge of the wall and pierced through the knight's chest.