Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1252 The Final Battlefield - Part 2 (Second Update)

If there is one moment in a lifetime of battles that is worth remembering, Aparisha would certainly say it is now.

There will never be a more glorious moment than now, no sacrifice more worthy of celebration, no moment more pure, more sacred, more righteous. Like often depicted in ancient religious murals, warriors and saints charge towards evil in the end times, facing the light. Is this not the purpose for which they were created? Is this not the glorious death they have always longed for?

The plasma turbine blades spun rapidly, and the heat dissipation channels and coolant emitted a high-pitched, boiling sound.

The heat-resistant armor was forced open by steam, and hot air gushed out from the gaps, propelling the satellite orbital weapon out of its designated position.

Even so, the ruby-red beam continued its relentless downward assault, pushing aside all clouds and volcanic ash centered on it. In many unseen realms, layers of invisible shields shattered, and hundreds of millions of runes crumbled into rapid, indistinct whispers. The Martian High Sage, Mabas, stared intently at the clouds and volcanic ash impacted by the beam in satellite images. The monster, visible to the naked eye, standing atop the Andes Mountains, was completely enveloped in the intense heat of the beam; those in orbit could almost hear its agonizing scream. Hundreds of displays on the bridge showed the space station's propulsion system, hangar status, surface hydrographic conditions, thermal radiation, energy signals, and the status of orbital weapons, among other things.

Several holographic projection screens displayed the heat, showing that as the floodwaters receded, many areas were enveloped in a cool blue light. In the Peruvian Andes, the heat from the experimental weapon spread like ink on water, with layers of ring-shaped clouds forming, as if a nuclear bomb had been released from the ground and continued to explode for one minute.

Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers, and Sam Wilson watched in astonishment at the weapon's destructive power; they had never imagined the consequences of amplifying such a directed-energy weapon. Even more alarming, however, was the detection of the disaster zone by the space station and satellites. Many inland areas were now submerged, and even the arid lands of Saudi Arabia faced seawater intrusion. All human societies were struggling to survive, social order was on the verge of collapse, and the balance between crime and survival was violently shattered.

When Steve Rogers suggested he land on the ground for rescue work, Marbus didn't even bother with him. No one had the capacity or time to accommodate Rogers's whimsical ideas; even Sam Wilson shook his head. Wilson had called home early in the flood, and despite knowing the FBI was wiretapping his sister, he spent a long time comforting his family and promising to return home soon.

However, the means of communication are now ineffective.

"Has communication been restored? I need to speak with the Emperor!" Marbas was anxious. Although he had independent launch authority, he was actually following instructions. The Emperor's mental message had penetrated through layers of obstacles to reach his receiver, but no one knew what damage the weapon would cause to the Emperor after it was launched.

"Not yet, sir," James, the technician from Mars, said with a frown. "The ionospheric interference is too severe, and the solar wind has exacerbated it. The SkySword Space Station's communicator power is too low; we can't burn through the interference."

Those stationed in suborbital space and at the SkySword space station completely lost all means of communication with the surface, forced to observe everything unfolding below through monitoring equipment. After being attacked, the colossal monster broke free from the ground, ignoring the missiles fired at it—it flapped its wings and soared upwards, its size multiplying. All the interceptors and assault craft hovering over Peru scrambled to take evasive action, but the turbulence created by its massive wings caused many aircraft to lose control, rendering them unable to pursue. Clouds gathered, swirled, and erupted beneath its wings, then suddenly accelerated across the terminator, sunlight once again illuminating its elegantly outstretched wings and scales. If it weren't for its enormous size, the billowing toxic smoke from the Andes earthquake zone, and the missiles leaving trails of white in their wake, this breathtakingly beautiful scene would have been truly mesmerizing.

Through satellite observation equipment, the people on the Sky Sword Space Station clearly saw the shattered scales and charred wings of the Feathered Serpent. Massive amounts of blood splattered from its body onto the earth, congealing, breaking, melting, and then congealing again in the air, like deep red gemstones. Suddenly, a blazing white light shot up from the ground, piercing the toxic fumes of the sky and crashing straight into the Feathered Serpent. It was a violent impact; the Feathered Serpent's body accelerated abruptly, the air around it vibrated violently due to the sudden compression, and the movements of its wings lost their previous ease and elegance. The white light defied gravity, hurtling into the atmosphere along with the Feathered Serpent's body.

In the blink of an eye, the pure white shock wave disappeared, and the high temperature generated by atmospheric friction enveloped both of them.

The tips of the feathers, originally charred by the experimental laser weapon, burned fiercely in the atmosphere, scales peeling away layer by layer, the creature's screams echoing throughout the planet. The observation equipment at the Sky Sword Space Station detected a person within the beam of light. Then, everything vanished, as if obscured by some illusion, disappearing from the empty atmosphere without a trace—the giant creature, the pure white beam—all vanished, even the atmosphere itself exploded and turbulent due to the sudden mass refill. The next moment, the giant creature and the person piloting the pure white beam reappeared, but not at the point of disappearance; they had shifted hundreds of kilometers, making it impossible for the Sky Sword Space Station to keep up with the observations immediately. Then, in another flash, the beam and the behemoth had reached the mesosphere above the South Atlantic. The atmosphere was gradually thinning, and the flames on the behemoth had extinguished considerably, but the impact still generated speeds reaching cosmic velocity. Under such violent impact, the Feathered Serpent once again soared into the sky.

Aparisha struggled, using her trembling fingers to unlock the helmet seal.

He removed his helmet, spitting out bubbling pus and blood. Even as the toxic fumes in the air constantly irritated his nasal mucosa, he didn't choose to put the helmet back on, because the helmet had a tear from the top of his head to his eyes, and the electronic components were flashing with sparks. This feeling of exhaustion was something he had never experienced since undergoing the modifications; even during training, he could fight continuously for more than a week. This arduous battle proved that, despite being repeatedly wounded and even nearly losing consciousness, genetically modified warriors could still fight until death.

Aparisha clutched his bleeding abdomen, his bloodshot eyes scanning his surroundings. Most of the knights were in no better shape than him; only the Royal Guard could nonchalantly slaughter the snake-men, also incapacitated by the air blast, as if the white light stretching to the horizon had never existed. This was a difficult battle, but also a glorious one. Even the most reckless young knight, after being tempered by this unprecedented war, would become a mature and steady veteran, provided he could survive this hellish battlefield.

This was no easy task. Quetzalcoatl's sudden escape triggered a violent earthquake, leaving a fissure in the earth filled with lava and poisonous gases. The tight network of firepower was disrupted, and the swarming, corrupting creatures, including many elusive serpent-man wizards, intensified their attack. Seemingly prompted by the target's actions, the emperor changed his strategy. He ordered his steeds to accelerate and ram the serpent-men in front of them. All the knights and guards had to quickly follow, charging into the dense swarm of serpent-men to fight as if they were nothing. At one point, artillery fire from behind came within less than a meter of the knights. But at that moment, no one cared about such trivial matters. Few retained their rationality, and some didn't even realize whether the corpses beneath their feet were enemies or knights. Even so, the knights still knew who to aim their spears and swords at.

Aparisha vaguely remembered that he had killed nearly two thousand enemies.

"Stand up, our work isn't over yet." Constantine lowered his head, looking at Aparisha kneeling on the ground. He wasn't satisfied with the Fire Knight's performance in this battle, not out of harshness, but for reasons Aparisha was unaware of. "We still have many serpent men to kill. His orders were to clear all the corrupted creatures here and destroy all the symbols."

Aparisha asked breathlessly, "What... happened?"

Constantine looked up, peering at the sky through his electronic eyes. The feathered serpent's body was shrinking and receding, the dazzling flames were fading, and the sonic boom was fading away. "That's a battle on another level," he said. "The Emperor has his own problems to face, while we face a battle in the material universe. It's called having your own roles, but that doesn't mean he doesn't need your help."

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(End of this chapter)