Kassel College, Central Control Room.
Everyone stared at the big screen. No one spoke.
The footage on the screen was being transmitted from the Sea of Japan through the real-time battlefield feed shared by the Eight Clans of the Serpent. Countless Corpse Guardians bobbed on the waves, their pale forms leaping, rolling, and shrieking amid the sea of flames, like a frenzy of dragons—or a horde of evil spirits pouring through the gates of hell.
"My God, did they poke a dragon nest?" Guderian clutched his hair with both hands.
No one answered him. Everyone was too stunned by the sight to say a word.
Everyone present knew about the conflicts between the Secret Party and the Eight Clans of the Serpent. The friction, the resentment, the covert struggles—they had gone on for decades.
But at that moment, watching the burning ships, the falling helicopters, and the figures struggling in the flames—their past conflicts and grudges suddenly seemed insignificant.
At least when facing these inhuman monsters, they stood on the same side.
Through their actions, the Eight Clans of the Serpent had proven that they still stood with humanity.
Sea of Japan, Sumeru Platform.
Minamoto Chisaki pulled the trigger. The recoil from the Heavy Sniper Rifle's continuous fire made his shoulder go numb. In the distance, the head of a Corpse Guardian that had just leapt from the flames exploded, and its headless body fell back into the sea.
His face was livid.
More and more Corpse Guardians were emerging. They poured out of the deep sea, as if they could never be killed off. Meanwhile, their own fighting strength was rapidly dwindling. Coast Guard Ships sank one after another. The screams from the fire grew sparser, and gunfire became scattered as well.
Sakura stood behind him with a shotgun,