Erika was stiff all over, tense as a plank of wood. If Lin Fan wished, he could have tucked Erika under his arm and carried her away.
But Erika's position was not as resilient as she made it seem. Lin Fan merely dispatched a small reconnaissance unit, and they found a gap in the hastily constructed Krieg defenses.
The troops silently explored the intricately designed position, wary of drawing the attention of the warning units. The only sound was that of the troops crushing dirt and stones beneath them.
Under this slow yet unstoppable infiltration tactic, the Krieg defenses quietly fell apart. The high command lost control and had no choice but to obediently hand the initiative over to Lin Fan. She could not even lift her head, only burying it against her chest as she steadied her violently pounding heart.
Isha entered the battlefield. She linked everyone's defenses together, forming a complex, multilayered line to stop the enemy's advances and flanking maneuvers. Under her guidance, everyone stood where they belonged, and amid background music that rose from nowhere and an overly sweet fragrance, the drama they had arranged reached its climax.
The song ended, and the curtain fell.
Night had already fallen. Lin Fan lay on the grass, admiring the stars in the sky. To him, this had been an exceptionally easy battle; winning it had been no harder than making Rogal Dorn angry at Perturabo.
Even Yilafren, an Aeldari, was the same. Though she had lived for several centuries, by Aeldari standards she had only just come of age. She was still a young girl urgently awaiting development.
Isha snapped her fingers, and a bright lamp floated beside her and Lin Fan.
"How is your writing coming along?"
"Not bad. Before I came here, I read quite a