Chapter 122: The Continental War (10)

Up in the Void, the system notifications for the Flesh Abomination’s death sequence cascaded across Red’s secondary monitor, flooding his account with a massive surge of recycled Divine Points.

He didn’t pause to read the exact payout. He immediately dragged his cursor across the tactical map, locking his interface onto the submerged trench where the Forgecaster’s Mechanical Titan was violently venting steam.

The Rank 11 Forgecaster was frantically mashing his keyboard in his isolated instance, trying to force his ultimate creation to reboot. The sudden plunge into the boiling Aegis water had triggered a catastrophic thermal shock.

The molten slag that armored the machine had rapidly cooled, fusing the titan’s gargantuan gears into a solid, immovable block of hardened iron.

“Reroute the bio-furnaces!” the Forgecaster screamed over the comms, his digital avatar sweating as his DP reserves bled out to keep the machine watertight. “Melt the joints!”

Red highlighted the eastern and western banks of the deep trench holding the paralyzed machine. With a simple, brutal pinch of his fingers on the trackpad, Red dragged the two massive tectonic plates directly toward each other.

The game engine’s physics protocols recognized the command. Down on the physical map, millions of tons of solid bedrock groaned. The trench walls violently converged, acting as a continent-sized, subterranean trash compactor.

The paralyzed Mechanical Titan didn’t even have the leverage to raise its arms. The earth slammed shut around it, instantly crushing the pinnacle machine into a hyper-compressed cube of shattered gears, boiling water, and crumpled titanium. The Forgecaster’s connection to the physical plane violently severed, his screen flashing with a fatal disconnection error.

“Two down.” Red seamlessly panned the camera north to the Glacial Behemoth.

The massive ice giant was completely grounded, its shattered legs dissolved into the boiling mud. The Glacial Sovereign was desperately trying to reconfigure the beast’s absolute zero core, commanding the torso to drag itself back toward the western plains. But the vassal gods were already swarming the carcass.

“The structural integrity is dropping,” the Rank 10 war god transmitted from his Void instance, his eyes locked on his own tactical feed. He dragged a selection box over his physical armies down on the map. “Centaur Vanguard, execute the charge command.”

Down in the mud, millions of armored centaurs poured over the beast’s flanks, their lances shattering the thermally weakened frost-plating.

“We have the elemental lock,” the Rank 9 twins chimed in over the vassal channel from their shared Void terminal. Their fingers flew across their keyboards as they synchronized their divine mana pools into a massive, targeted miracle.

They hijacked the massive column of superheated steam rising from the geothermal vents Red had dragged beneath the beast.

Clicking the execution key, the twins forced the game engine to compress the scalding vapor into a high-pressure, rotating alchemical drill. The localized miracle drove straight down into the Behemoth’s exposed spine.

The Glacial Sovereign watched his primary monitor in despair as the thermal drill punched completely through the beast’s core. The absolute zero aura flickered and died. The mountain of enchanted ice violently destabilized, shattering into millions of mundane, harmless shards that rained down over the roaring vassal cavalry.

“Pull up! Get back to the clouds!” the Rank 12 Zephyr Lord shouted over the alliance channel, watching his three allies get systematically eradicated in less than five minutes.

His Zephyr Dragon was the only creation left. The Zephyr Lord frantically clicked his screen, attempting to abandon the hurricane it had generated and force the serpentine beast into the upper stratosphere where Red’s ground troops couldn’t reach it.

“Leaving so soon?” Red asked the empty Void.

He box-selected the six batteries of subterranean Star-Iron flak cannons he had previously relocated directly beneath the dragon’s flight path. Down on the ground, the mortal Kobold and Ash-Kin gunnery crews were already locked into the targeting matrices, their bio-gas pressure gauges completely maxed out.

Red struck the execution key.

The eastern ridges vanished behind a blinding wall of muzzle flashes. The deafening roar of industrial artillery eclipsed the sound of the hurricane. Thousands of jagged, telephone-pole-sized rods of impenetrable Star-Iron ripped into the sky, propelled by highly volatile, alchemically enriched sewage gas.

The Zephyr Lord desperately tried to command his dragon to weave through the barrage via his UI, but the sheer density of the flak grid made evasion mathematically impossible. The Star-Iron projectiles tore through the localized hurricane, completely ignoring the wind-shear defense.

The dragon let out a piercing, atmospheric shriek as the heavy munitions shredded its ethereal wind-scales, tearing its physical manifestation into ribbons of rapidly dispersing mana.

Up in the Void, the four enemy deities sat in absolute, paralyzed silence.

Their primary monitors displayed nothing but system-generated tombstones and falling bank accounts. They had poured their entire sovereign treasuries into deploying four mountain-sized, Rank 10 extinction-level threats, expecting to completely break and take over the eastern hemisphere.

Instead, they had just watched a localized map editor and a heavily industrialized death-cult systematically dismantle their ultimate weapons like a routine pest control operation.

Red leaned back in his obsidian throne, watching the massive wave of system notifications log the confirmed kills. His Faith income spiked violently. His DP reserves began to refill from the salvaged parts and kill rewards.

He dismissed the loot windows and moved his cursor to the extreme western edge of the tactical map. The four gods were financially ruined, but the war wasn’t over.

While the four gods had suffered catastrophic financial losses, they still had millions of surviving mortal troops scattered across the western plains. As long as those followers breathed, they generated Faith. And as long as they had Faith, their DP wouldn’t hit absolute zero.

The game engine’s rules were absolute. A deity was only deleted from the server when their DP reached zero and they suffered a complete rank cascade. Red couldn’t just wait for them to bleed out as it was costing him DP too. He had to break their mortal anchors to trigger the systemic purge.

“I think I know what they are going to do next. That will be their last attempt, and also… the most powerful.”

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A/N- The next few Chapters are gonna be epic af. You guys aren’t ready for it!

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