Alice in the Land of Steam

Chapter 1317 Have the reinforcements finally arrived?

"Is that the only extent?"

Caraboss withdrew her hand, calmly wiping away the last remaining fragment of darkness between her fingers. It was filled with fear and unease, constantly sending out thoughts of submission and supplication to the Dark Witch, almost as if it possessed a life of its own. For Caraboss, who controlled all the darkness in the universe, darkness itself truly possessed consciousness, constantly conveying to her various thoughts and even emotions—times of submission, times of awe, times of closeness, times of silence… to the point that sometimes Caraboss even felt that these emotions resonated with her own inner self; otherwise, how could she explain that inexplicable feeling?

As for this darkness that has been corrupted and eroded by the power of faith, Carabosse felt no pity. She could smell the stench of decay and depravity emanating from them, just like their masters. Perhaps only by returning them to the embrace of primordial darkness, and being reborn at the distant ends of the universe, could they be cleansed of their impurity and continue to exist as the foundation for maintaining the balance of the world.

As for their original owners, they were far less fortunate.

A massive, pitch-black mass, resembling a sludge mixed with asphalt and decaying matter, writhed and twisted across the barren land. It or rather, it contained an excessive amount of pure magic power, yet its body and soul were riddled with holes, like a balloon punctured with countless punctures. With each wriggle, the magic power uncontrollably leaked out, gradually seeping into the soil and air, returning to its most basic magical components.

The constant loss of magic terrified the ugly, greedy monster. For all the creatures on this continent who chased after corrupt magic, power was the sole pursuit and an indispensable crutch. So, dragging its massive, cumbersome body, it twisted, struggled, and chased desperately, trying to reabsorb the dissipated magic, completely disregarding the fact that it already possessed enough magic within it—enough to burst it apart. The loss of magic was not a price to pay; quite the opposite, it was a means to save its life.

All rational beings know the principle of moderation, but how can a monster that has lost its mind comprehend such a complex concept? So, it devoured and drained its remaining strength, indulging in the pleasure of gaining power, without realizing that its own aura was growing weaker and weaker. In the end, in the constant cycle of absorption and loss, it completely lost its self-awareness and turned into a true puddle of mud.

The dark, sludge-like object that silently wriggles between the rocks and mud is something even passersby avoid. Who would have thought that it was once the most powerful "god" on the land of Gray Hill?

Caraboss glanced coldly at the puddle of mud, then looked away, no longer paying attention. To deal with this so-called former Goddess of Night, Roglia, she hadn't actually used much power; she had merely generously gifted her a sliver of magic, seeing how desperately the other craved it. But clearly, Roglia had underestimated the pure magic of the young queen and overestimated the resilience of its own body and soul. It lacked even the rationality to judge its enemy's methods and intentions, greedily and tirelessly devouring its prey like a drowning pig, never relinquishing its pursuit of power even in its dying moments.

This was his morbid state, yet it was the norm on this continent. Everything about faith, power, even evil gods and false gods, filled Caraboss with a deep weariness. Fortunately, the arrival and death of the former Night God, Roglia, was merely a minor interlude. The Dark Witch was unaware that she had inadvertently helped the Grayhill Eagle eliminate his greatest threat, bringing him unimaginable shock. At this moment, Caraboss had only one thought in his mind—

at last.

I can finally face you.

……

Regina was surprised to find that her usually calm and collected brother Carson was unusually absent-minded and restless. Was he still worried about the outcome of the war? But no matter how you looked at it, the situation was in our favor. Under Miss Hino's leadership, the rebels were advancing steadily and had now captured the eastern wall. Two of the four force field devices were gone, and it would be difficult to hold the remaining two. Regina really couldn't understand what there was to worry about under these circumstances.
She tried calling Grayhill Eagle's name, but the latter frowned and seemed not to hear her. He only responded when Regina called again, and this unusual behavior confirmed the girl's suspicion that her brother Carson was hiding something. Regina, who came from the mining town of Lostella and was raised as a miner from a young age, was cheerful and straightforward, always speaking her mind and having no concept of tact.

So she asked directly, "What are you thinking about, brother? How can you be spacing out at such a crucial moment? Or is it..."

She looked at Grayhill Eagle suspiciously: "You want to go into battle yourself?"

That won't do. Grayhill Eagle is the leader of the Liberator Front and one of the commanders of the insurgents. How can he take such a risk? Besides, judging from the current situation, it seems that he doesn't need to take action anymore.

“No.” Carson Borg slowly shook his head, his voice trembling slightly. “I’m just wondering whether to persuade the General to temporarily withdraw his troops…”

"Retreat!?" Regina almost shouted out loud, but thankfully she suppressed her voice in time so that no one else could hear her, otherwise it would definitely shake the morale of the troops: "Big brother, what are you thinking? The battle situation is clearly in our favor, why retreat?"

"Because that guy is coming..."

Carson Borg's face turned pale, as if he had recalled something terrible. He didn't know who that guy was, but to be able to erase the former God of Night who once ruled the Gray Hills in such a short time, without even a sound or the slightest magical fluctuation, he couldn't imagine how powerful such a being was.

Whether the other party was good or evil, friend or foe, Grayhill Eagle couldn't be sure, but he had a bad feeling. Considering the enemy commander's recent actions of delaying the enemy at all costs, he vaguely began to guess.

We must inform General Franz Sander as soon as possible!

It will be too late if it's any later...

Ignoring Regina's advice, Grayhill Eagle turned and headed towards the command tent, but it was too late.

On the battlefield, the sounds of fighting were deafening, and the air was thick with the stench of blood and burnt flesh. A soldier struggled to pull his longsword from the dented breastplate of an enemy, scalding blood gushing out like a fountain, instantly staining half his face and his tattered leather armor. He breathed heavily, wiping the sticky, warm blood from his face, his gaze sweeping over the ground—already covered in a dark red swamp of blood and mud, littered with broken weapons and mangled limbs. He gritted his teeth, preparing to step over a fallen corpse and launch a final charge against the crumbling enemy lines.

Just then, his movements abruptly froze. An indescribable chill suddenly crept up his spine. It wasn't a sudden wind or surging clouds, but the light before him dimmed abruptly and without warning, as if someone had instantly ripped away the light from the entire world. Everything in his field of vision—the blood-stained flag, the angry faces of his comrades, the reflections of the enemy's magical artifacts, even the thick smoke rising in the distance—seemed to be shrouded in a rapidly spreading gray-black veil, its colors fading quickly, its outlines becoming blurred.

it's dark?
This absurd thought immediately occupied his mind, but he quickly realized that the battle had clearly started in the early morning, so how could it have gotten dark so soon?

What exactly is that...

The soldier raised his head blankly, his gaze passing over the chaotic battlefield and landing on the distant horizon. There, he saw a sight he would never forget: a visible darkness rolled in like a tidal wave, already submerging half the horizon. But unlike a tide, it didn't possess the sense of movement and movement of water or waves; rather, it was like an endless, pitch-black curtain covering the sky and earth, being pulled and dragged forward by an invisible hand with unimaginable force. Forests and sky, mountains and hills, rivers and canyons, even sight and light, could not escape the overwhelming darkness, instantly submerged within it, unable to break free.

Light and shadow are inseparable. If we believe that light is everywhere, then darkness will naturally follow like a shadow. Its spread is even faster than the speed of light, so much so that before the light can reach our eyes, it has already been devoured. To the most basic visual senses of living beings, it's as if the tide of darkness was still beyond the horizon one moment, and the next second it has already swept across the battlefield. Whether it's jagged rocks, broken walls, fallen corpses, or soldiers still putting up a last stand or fleeing in panic, even the weapons they hold tightly... all of them melt away silently the moment they come into contact with that viscous darkness.

There was no earth-shattering explosion, no ear-piercing shattering, only a chilling sound, as if matter itself was wailing. Rocks crumbled and melted, metal weapons twisted and dimmed, and flesh and blood didn't even have time to scream before dissolving in the viscous darkness, becoming part of the darkness without even a ripple.

Even if you are lucky enough not to be swallowed up, simply looking into the darkness is equivalent to looking into the abyss. It is not cruel, nor is it evil; it is merely an indifference utterly calm, as if waiting for your return. Indeed, merging into the darkness is not leaving, but returning—returning to the most primordial and purest darkness of the universe, before the birth of light and the creation of matter. There, the cradle and final resting place of all souls lies.

Of course, such a return is unimaginable for ordinary people, so they do not understand it. Instead, they are overwhelmed by unprecedented fear, which makes them abandon their rationality as human beings. They abandon their weapons, their fighting, and even the victory that is within reach. They flee in panic, and the shrill screams, the panicked cries, and the abrupt cries for help replace all the sounds on the battlefield.

Strangely, the darkness itself seemed to possess consciousness and the ability to distinguish friend from foe, cleverly avoiding the 17th Legion's garrison. Although they were also affected by the darkness, experiencing blurred vision and cold hands and feet, they did not completely disappear into the depths of the tide like the rebel soldiers.

On the crumbling western city wall, Major General Andrei gripped his nearly dulled longsword, breathing heavily. His magnificent general's uniform was soaked with blood and dust, and a deep, bone-revealing wound on his left arm continued to ooze blood, dripping onto the cold battlements. Beside him, his once disciplined personal guard was reduced to less than three-tenths; the remaining soldiers were all wounded, their eyes filled with exhaustion and despair.

This section of the defense line is about to fall...

This thought gnawed at his will like a venomous snake. He had almost completely drained the last bit of strength from his troops, even throwing the reserves into a bloody, grueling tug-of-war. Every breath carried the metallic scent of blood, every command felt like a drain on his life force. The soldier's duty, the Emperor's favor, the fate of his family, the uncertain future... the heavy burden was almost crushing him.

Just as he was about to issue that humiliating order to retreat, an order that signified utter defeat—

The all-consuming darkness descended.

An overwhelming, surging joy of surviving a catastrophe overwhelmed him like a tidal wave, instantly breaching the dam of his will. His bloodshot eyes widened suddenly, almost bursting with tears. The sudden relaxation of his taut nerves caused his tall frame to sway involuntarily; he quickly braced himself with his sword to avoid falling. An indescribable burning sensation surged up his throat, choking him and making it almost impossible to breathe.

"Reinforcements...have arrived!!!"

He roared with all his might, hoarse, trembling, and even furious, more of a cathartic outburst than a declaration. But his soldier's instincts prevented him from forgetting the most important thing at this moment: boosting morale! "His Majesty the Dark Saint has arrived on the battlefield and will bring us victory!!! All troops, heed my command! Hold your ground and drive these natives of the Eastern Continent back to their Black Forest!!!"

His response was a shout that was almost choked with sobs.

……

Hino, who was speeding along the street, suddenly pulled on the reins and looked back. She naturally saw the dark tide that almost swallowed everything and knew who the so-called reinforcements were.

It turned out to be the case.

In a fleeting moment, she understood the cause and effect, realizing that she was ultimately a step too late. But she would not regret her hesitation of the past few days, nor would she hesitate because she was only one step away from the enemy's third position device, nor would she have the thought that "if I had made up my mind to fight earlier, could I have avoided today's predicament?" If she were a true knight, at this moment, there would only be one thing she needed to do.

"Brandy".

The knight turned his horse around, his tone calm and utterly unwavering: "Let's go."

Give me some cats