Chapter 120: The Continental War (8)

Red couldn’t pick up a mountain and drop it directly onto the Glacial Sovereign’s army as the system’s collision protocols explicitly prevented that kind of blunt-force exploit. However, he no longer had to abide by the permanent geography of the physical world. He was now the architect of the board itself.

Red dismissed the notification and brought the live feed of the Continental Moat back to the primary screen. Down in the mud, the four mountain-sized beasts continued to tear into his automated defenses.

The Flesh Abomination crushed the retreating vanguard, absorbing the corpses of fallen paladins to rapidly expand its massive bulk. The Glacier Behemoth froze the eastern banks, projecting an absolute zero aura that turned the Aegis-infused water into useless blocks of blue ice. Up in the sky, the Zephyr Dragon coiled through the clouds, generating a localized hurricane that threatened to rip the Kobold garrisons right off the elevated ridges.

They were pushing incredibly hard against the retracted steel bridges, trying to force a stable beachhead before the Void-Eater completely consumed their rearguard on the western plains.

“You want to cross the moat?” Red murmured to the empty Void, his hands flying across the obsidian keyboard as he opened his tactical overlay.

Instead of selecting his artillery batteries or troop formations, Red clicked directly onto the physical terrain of the eastern embankment. A massive, glowing green grid instantly superimposed itself over the battlefield.

He highlighted a three-mile stretch of the Leviathan-asphalt highway and the adjacent bedrock where his forces were currently taking heavy casualties from the Glacier Behemoth’s frost aura.

With a smooth motion of his mouse, Red simply dragged his cursor backward.

The game engine complied without restriction. The landmass physically tore away from the shoreline in a frictionless, silent slide, instantly widening the boiling trench by thousands of feet and pulling his frontline troops entirely out of the Behemoth’s attack range.

Red didn’t stop there. He selected the subterranean Siphon-Locks and the vulnerable bio-gas pipelines, dragging them behind the safety of the secondary defensive lines. He was completely reshaping the battlefield geometry in real-time, preparing to isolate the four massive bosses into customized, inescapable kill-boxes.

Red’s fingers danced across the obsidian keyboard, his eyes reflecting the bright green geometry of the tactical grid as he completely dismantled the natural flow of the battlefield.

He could not drop a mountain directly onto the four Rank 10 beasts, but the system protocols said absolutely nothing about moving the mountains around them.

He highlighted a massive, jagged ridge of the eastern mountain range. With a swift drag of his finger, Red pulled the entire geological formation three miles to the left. He locked the coordinates, forming a sheer, inescapable hexagonal canyon entirely around the Flesh Abomination.

The biological titan was suddenly walled in by thousands of tons of impenetrable bedrock, completely cut off from the corpses of the vanguard it had been feeding on.

Next, Red targeted the Mechanical Titan of molten slag, who was currently incinerating the shoreline, turning the mud into slick glass.

Red selected a deep, submerged trench from the center of the Continental Moat and swapped its coordinates with the dry land directly beneath the Titan’s feet.

The ground vanished.

The mechanical behemoth plunged straight into millions of gallons of boiling, hyper-regenerative Aegis water. A localized steam explosion rocked the western banks as the slag-iron rapidly cooled and hardened, locking the titan’s grinding gears in a cage of solidifying metal and scalding vapor.

Finally, Red boxed in the Zephyr Dragon. The serpent of razor-wind was too high in the sky to trap with terrain, so Red simply moved the anti-air infrastructure. He highlighted six scattered batteries of Star-Iron flak cannons and seamlessly dragged them across the map, clustering them directly beneath the dragon’s localized hurricane in a concentrated ring of overwhelming firepower.

Down on the physical battlefield, the sheer surreal horror of the game engine altering reality took hold.

Gorak dug his Star-Iron gauntlets into the dirt, bracing for an earthquake that never came. Instead of violent seismic tremors, the world simply slid. A glowing green grid briefly illuminated the bedrock beneath his feet as an entire mountain range smoothly glided past his peripheral vision at sixty miles an hour, completely devoid of inertia, friction, or sound.

The Troglodyte Warlord unhinged his jaw, letting out a guttural laugh that rattled his bone-plated exoskeleton.

“The Spiral Lord reshapes the board! The meat is trapped!”

Iron-Scale did not waste a single second marveling at the geological impossibility. As the new canyon walls locked into place around the Flesh Abomination, the Kobold Inquisitor fired his Clockwork Grappling Spools.

The thick iron chains bit deeply into the freshly relocated cliffs. He swung outward into the newly formed kill-box, his metallic scales blurring as he plummeted toward the wailing mass of flesh.

“Target isolated,” Iron-Scale hissed.

He extended his scythe, igniting the blade with alchemical fire as he prepared to carve directly into the abomination’s central mass.

Below him, Krug stepped to the edge of the newly formed precipice. The polished steel scales of his armor reflected the burning violet flames roaring from the recycled iron greataxe in his hands. He looked down into the artificial canyon where the mountain-sized Flesh Abomination was now blindly thrashing against the sheer rock walls, completely cut off from its allied support.

“The False Gods bring mindless beasts to our holy foundries,” Krug bellowed, his voice echoing with absolute fanaticism across the human and kobold militias rallying behind him. He raised his burning axe toward the trapped titan. “Ka-Lam-Tee has built the crucible! Ignite the flesh! Feed the Ash-Forge!”

Gorak roared in agreement, launching his massive, armored frame directly off the cliff and plummeting toward the trapped beast with his fists raised, leading a tidal wave of hyper-mutated infantry straight into the slaughter.

Up in the Void, Red leaned back on his throne and watched the telemetry on his secondary monitor update in real-time. The vassal gods from the western marches were finally arriving at the enemy’s rear guard, and his own vanguard was currently ripping apart the isolated beasts in the customized deathtraps.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep