Meanwhile, in the heart of the Midtown, atop the Chaos Spire.
Atia stood with his hands behind his back beneath the STC sphere, his blue sorcery robes fluttering in the distorted air currents.
He raised his head, sensing the two warships that had intruded on the outer layer of the barrier, a sinister smile curling at the corner of his mouth beneath the shadow of his hood.
"The big fish has taken the bait."
He murmured softly, his voice filled with the pleasure of a cunning scheme succeeding.
From the very beginning, this Profane Barrier was not some passive, inanimate object.
As one of His millions of magical fragments, STC's derived abilities are inherently diverse.
The so-called pattern of "absorbing energy - vortex counterattack - energy trough" is nothing more than a bait he deliberately set out.
The successful passage of the frigate and cruiser on the first two occasions was the result of him deliberately letting go.
The purpose was to get the biggest fish to willingly crawl into the net.
"Since you're here, why not stay?"
Atia stretched out his hand and lightly touched the air in front of him with his fingertips.
Tzeentch runes emerged from his fingertips, drilling into the STC sphere at the top as if they were alive.
The metal fragments, which had been rotating smoothly, suddenly accelerated, and a blinding blue light burst from the surface of the sphere. Countless obscure incantations spread rapidly along the patterns of the barrier.
The entire Profane Barrier began to undergo drastic changes.
On the bridge of the Gemstone, the countdown had reached its final three seconds.
The pale blue outline of the Brevis atmosphere was already faintly visible outside the porthole; victory was within reach.
But just then, a piercing alarm suddenly blared!
"Warning! Warning! The Warp index has spiked abnormally!"
"The vortex structure is changing! It's expanding!"
The navigator's scream shattered the tranquility of the bridge; blood seeped from his third eye on his forehead, and his face was filled with pain and terror.
"Wait... the spatial coordinates are messed up!"
"What's ahead isn't the atmosphere, it's Warp turbulence!"
Dominic suddenly looked up and stared ahead.
The vortex, which should have gradually dissipated, now expanded wildly like an inflated balloon, turning the originally narrow passage into an endless expanse.
The rainbow-colored Warp energy surged wildly, and countless distorted phantoms and demonic roars poured out from the depths, several times more violent than before.
The two warships, which were about to reach their destination, plunged headlong into the boundless Warp Storm.
"What's going on?!" the guard captain exclaimed.
"The load on the Gellar Field is skyrocketing! Fifty percent, seventy percent, and it's still rising!"
" The Psyker is about to collapse! The core temperature of the force field is too high!"
Bad news followed one after another.
The ship's tremors intensified instantly, like a lone boat on a raging sea, tossed about by the violent currents.
No more starlight or atmosphere could be seen outside the porthole; only endless bands of distorted light and grotesque shadows of Warp.
They slammed wildly against the Gellar Field, emitting a sickening shriek, trying to penetrate the ship's hull and devour the souls of everyone on board.
"All ships on Level 1 combat readiness! Shut down all non-essential compartments, and maximize force field power!"
Dominic's voice remained calm, but his clenched fist betrayed his seriousness.
He was fooled.
That wasn't a naturally occurring energy trough at all; it was a trap deliberately set by the other side.
"Try to contact the outer fleet!"
"Reporting, sir, the signal has been completely lost! The electromagnetic environment inside the vortex is chaotic, and we have completely lost contact with the outside world!"
Dominic took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping over the endless, raging torrents outside the porthole, a hint of melancholy in his eyes.
This was the first time in his many years of fighting that he had suffered such a complete defeat.
The opponent had anticipated that he would seize the window of opportunity to advance, and had also anticipated his confidence in his previous two successful crossings.
He didn't lose this game unjustly.
Outside the orbit, the remaining Tithe Fleet was also thrown into chaos.
"My lord, something's wrong with the barrier!"
Karen, the adjutant left behind in the fleet, stared intently at the screen, his heart sinking to the bottom.
Just as the Gemstone and Pegasus were completely submerged into the vortex, the energy fluctuations in that area suddenly disappeared.
Immediately afterwards, a smooth, Profane Barrier spread out like flowing water, completely covering and smoothing out the entire vortex area.
From the outside, there was no trace of the vortex anymore, only a smooth energy barrier with flowing runes.
Just like those two warships, they vanished into thin air within the barrier.
"How so..."
Someone muttered to themselves, their face filled with disbelief.
Everyone assumed that the Profane Barrier was some kind of automatically operating STC creation, following fixed energy laws.
But what they saw before them clearly told them...
This barrier is alive; it's being manipulated by someone behind the scenes.
All its previous reactions and patterns were deliberately staged for them.
"What do we do now, sir?"
All eyes fell on Lieutenant Karen.
With the loss of the capital battleship Gemstone and another Mars-class Battlecruiser, the remaining fleet's combat strength plummeted by one-fifth.
"Cease all artillery fire and do not recharge the barrier."
Karen, the adjutant, gritted her teeth, her voice hoarse.
"At the same time, contact the ground troops, inform them that the flagship is blocked, and instruct them to suspend their attack and hold their current positions."
But he knew in his heart that this amount of firepower support was simply not enough to sustain the ground battle.
The real nightmare has only just begun.
Ground, the Allied forces' position on Midtown North Road.
The soldiers had just taken advantage of a lull in the railgun fire support to regroup and prepare for a new assault.
Just minutes ago, the artillery fire on the tracks suddenly subsided, and eventually stopped completely.
"What's going on? Why has the fleet ceased fire?"
The soldiers at the front lines looked at each other, a sense of unease rising in their hearts.
Before they could figure it out, the Profane Barrier above their heads suddenly lit up with a blinding blue light.
The soldiers instinctively looked up and saw a huge vortex slowly forming on the smooth surface of the barrier.
It looked exactly the same as when it countered the orbital fleet.
But this time, the opening of the vortex was pointed directly at the ground!
"Oh no! Take cover!"
The officer's roar had barely begun when a destructive light blazed from the center of the vortex.
A blindingly Psychic Power beam of psionic energy crashed down, striking the northern allied forces' forward positions with pinpoint accuracy.
There was no deafening explosion, nor any flying debris.
Everything in the area enveloped by the Psychic Power beam was instantly dissolved.
The soldiers didn't even have time to scream before their bodies and armor turned to ashes, leaving only faint groans from their burning souls as they dissipated into the air.
In the center of the position, a death zone several hundred meters in diameter was instantly cleared out.
"Ah! My hands, my soul are burning!"
Soldiers caught in the aftershocks at the edge of the area fell to the ground, frantically tearing at their chests.
Those colorful Psychic Power flames clung to the skin like a bone-deep infection, burning through flesh and blood, reaching straight to the soul.
No conventional firefighting methods were effective; they could only watch helplessly as they were burned to ashes.
The entire front line was thrown into chaos.
"Stay calm! Everyone stay calm!"
The Ministorum Priest held aloft their holy emblems and chanted prayers aloud, attempting to soothe the soldiers with the power of their faith.
Before their hymn could even take shape, several concealed Psychic Power missiles shot from the Chaos Array and landed precisely among the priests.
Blood and bone fragments splattered, and several priests in the front row died on the spot.
"Charge!!"
A roar as loud as a mountain collapsing and a tsunami erupted from the direction of the Chaos Battlefield.
Millions of demons and Cultists surged forth like a tidal wave, with the Thousand Sons Warriors of the Supreme Thrallband arrayed in the center, their blue-green Power Armour gleaming eerily in the Psychic Power light.
The force field swords in their hands ruthlessly reaped the lives of the retreating soldiers, and the wizards' spells rained down on the defending positions.
This counterattack is on a scale far exceeding any previous one.
Without the suppression of orbital firepower and stunned by the Psychic Power beam cannons, the Northern Allied Forces were unable to mount any effective resistance.
The soldiers were forced into retreat, and the several kilometers of positions they had fought so hard to recapture were all lost in less than half an hour.
The battle line retreated all the way back to the position it was in before the attack began.