Chương 397: The Great Retreat

Jian Xuan was engaged in his fight and was winning. Li Yu void-stepped, appearing in a blur of white light between Jian Xuan and the alien brute. His Void-Lattice Domain snapped into place, slowing the Praetorian down.

"Jian Xuan!" Li Yu yelled over the sounds of battle.

"Don't aim for lethal strikes! Aim for injuries! Cripple it! Wear it down!" Jian Xuan, who had been about to unleash a devastating counter-strike aimed at the Praetorian's head, quickly withdrew his strike. His brow furrowed in confusion but he trusted Li Yu.

"As the Crab wills it!" he roared, altering his attack. Instead of a killing blow, his next barrage of strikes targeted the Praetorian's exposed joints and limb segments. The Praetorian, slowed by Li Yu's domain and energy absorption, roared in frustration as blades hammered its elbows, shoulders, and hips. It tried to bring its chitinous claws down but Li Yu was a wraith, his black staff a blur as it was deflecting and parrying.

He was never aiming for a killing strike, only ever redirecting its blows and targeting its body instead. Most cultivators and indeed the Xylarri, naturally prioritized protecting their vital points—heart, head, core. Their defensive posturing was geared towards surviving fatal blows. By asking Jian Xuan to focus on non-lethal, easily inflicted injuries, they were bypassing the creature's strongest defenses and simply wearing it down, overwhelming it with pain and cumulative damage.

Under their combined assault, the 2nd-Level Praetorian quickly became a battered wreck. Its armor was cracked and splintered in dozens of places. Purple ichor was oozing from multiple wounds. Its movements, already sluggish from the domain and lost of energy, grew heavy and uncoordinated. It finally stumbled and roared in exhaustion and pain. Li Yu felt the familiar, eager thrum from within his Ocean of Qi.

"Wait Jian Xuan! I want to test something." Li Yu shouted at Jian Xuan before he could launch another attack. Deep in his Ocean of Qi, the fisherman stood. He cast his line. The invisible hook shot out, latching onto the soul of the Praetorian. YANK. The Soul Formation beast let out a final, ear-splitting psychic shriek and like the one before it, its body falling limp, then rapidly crumbling to dust. Li Yu's Human Soul glowed with renewed vibrant purple light, the essence of the absorbed soul flowing into it.

The fisherman sat back down, a look of satisfaction on his face, once again radiating that palpable sense of contentment and hunger.

"It worked!" Li Yu yelled to Jian Xuan, a genuine laugh bubbling up. Jian Xuan stared at the rapidly disappearing pile of dust, then at Li Yu as he pieced things together. Afterwards he let out a thunderous roar of laughter.

"HAHAHA! A NEW TECHNIQUE! A GLORIOUS NEW ABILITY! Brother Li, you are truly blessed by the Crab God!" Their brief moment of triumph was however short-lived. They helped to clear the remaining Soul Formation Xylarri as the rest of the team arrived to help clear up the rest of the basin. Corvus, having secured the Basin with Krell and Morn, approached them. His face was grim and his communication token still glowing.

"The battle is won here but the war is lost. Theron's latest report is catastrophic. All our captured outposts, every single forward position we took are under attack. They've bypassed every single scout, every single array that we set up. They're overwhelming us everywhere." Zaltar's voice, relayed from the other side of the Basin where he was supervising the mop-up, was a low growl.

"They are collapsing our entire advance. This was a feint. A trap." Corvus activated a holographic map. Dozens of red flares dotted the eastern front, each one representing an outpost.

"We have insufficient forces for this. Theron is ordering a full retreat. All strike teams are to disengage from any offensive action. Each strike team is to proceed to their designated outposts, gather the surviving troops and escort them back to the First Defensive Line." Malara with a face full of fury looked at Corvus.

"We are... retreating? Abandoning our gains? All those who died, died for nothing?!"

"We are preserving our forces," Corvus snapped back, his own frustrations clear.

"Our mission now is to gather the survivors from the Sunken Basin and Sorrow's Peak and the other southern posts and fall back. Krell, Morn and the other teams are already en route to their own garrisons. We will regroup at Sorrow's Peak, collect our main force there and begin a full, fighting withdrawal to the First Defensive Line."

"This plan isn't working," Corvus continued, his voice grim.

"We cannot detect them. We cannot predict them. We will simply bleed ourselves dry leap-frogging into territory they can walk through as if it were air. Every Soul Formation here, every Core Formation is too valuable to waste on a futile defense." The orders were clear, desperate and logical. The nine Soul Formation experts and their remaining Core Formation troops immediately split once again heading for their assigned outposts.

They were ignoring the dangers of an ambush to rush back and save all the garrisoned troops. Sorrow's Peak, once a place of tense victory, was now a frantic evacuation hub. Elder Mathis and his array masters were already dismantling the most valuable array cores, their faces set in grim lines. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"We just finished fortifying this place and now we're abandoning it," Mathis spat, his voice bitter as he handed a critical array core to Corvus.

"We have no choice," Corvus said.

"Everyone, board the ships. This is a fighting retreat. We are the rearguard." The journey back to the First Defensive Line was grim. The massive fleet of ships, carrying the survivors of the entire forward offensive, flew in a tight defensive formation. As they flew, reports of the disaster came in, one after another and each worse than the last. A communication came through to Grand Elder Corvus. The demonic lord's four arms clenched, his face a mask of fury.

"The Ashen Bluffs Garrison... completely overrun," Zaltar snarled, his voice a low growl of pure rage.

"Before the strike team even reached them. The entire garrison... slaughtered. The strike team... lost half their Soul Formation experts trying to escape." The news spread like wildfire, a cold wave of despair washing over the retreating fleet. Eight Soul Formation experts had died on this offensive and now this retreat. It was a massive loss. Hundreds of Core Formation troops as well were wiped out on the missions. All for nothing. The atmosphere was suffocating within the command tent at the First Defensive Line.

Theron stood at the head of the map table, his face a mask of stone. Every surviving leader from the original command tent was there. The team from the Keepers were diminished, losing half their forces. Rylan was still there but it was clear he was furious and saddened by the losses on his side. The air was somber, thick with tension and the unspoken question hung heavy in the silence: What were they going to do now?

"The strategy has failed," Theron said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.

"We cannot detect them. We cannot predict them. We cannot leap-frog our way to the rifts if they can simply bypass our lines at will. We have effectively been blinded."

"So, what is the alternative?" Lady Vyltra's voice was frigid.

"Send a large group of Soul Formation experts directly to the rifts? A blind charge into the heart of their territory? It's suicide. Even if we reach them, there's no guarantee we could close them."

"And what would be left of our forces here, fighting with no leadership?" Forgemaster Krell added, his voice low. Vizier Morn, the shadow-demon, glided forward.

"We cannot detect them but they seem to be able to detect us. They can bypass our arrays. But the reverse... is not true. Perhaps we can use their tactic against them. Perhaps a smaller force could move unseen through their territory." The suggestion hung in the air. A small, elite strike team, moving undetected directly to the rifts. It was reckless. It was incredibly risky. It was suicide. But in the face of their current situation no one had a better solution.

A smaller force could potentially make it there and see what was happening directly at the rifts. They were fighting completely blind right now. The smaller force would also allow for the majority of the forces to continue to be stationed here to defend against attacks. After a moment of thinking it through Theron nodded, his gaze sweeping over each leader.

"Vizier Morn is correct. It is our only path forward. But I will not order this mission. It is too dangerous. Too high a risk for direct assignment." He paused, his gaze landing on everyone in the room.

"However, I am putting out a call for volunteers. Regardless of success, any who volunteer for this mission, or their designated next-of-kin, will be granted an unprecedented amount of merit points. Enough to guarantee significant resources for generations. I understand the dangers and risks of such a task. But I also want to show its importance, we need more information." A sweetening of the deal. The promise of legacy was indeed tempting. Zaltar's four arms uncrossed.

"I will go." His eyes swept around the room.

"But there is a condition. If this continent survives... the Demons will be granted permanent, defensible lands on this continent. Full territorial rights to begin a new civilization here." The humans that had lived in the southern continent all their lives stiffened. This was an enormous demand. Li Yu and Jian Xuan thought the demand was reasonable. They didn't have the same hatred as those that lived here. The two of them thought it was a fair reward for those risking their lives and saving countless lives.

Lady Vyltra stepped forward, her ice-blue eyes fixed on Theron.

"I concur and I will go as well. Land. Sovereignty. If we are to risk everything for this continent, we demand a future here as well."

"Agreed," Theron said, without a moment's hesitation.

"If you both go, that is enough merit for the mission. This continent's survival... takes precedence over ancient grudges." Li Yu glanced at Jian Xuan and they whispered to each other their thoughts. They were both leaning heavily towards not going. The risk was simply too immense. Even with the lure of merit points, the idea of walking into an unknown hell was terrifying. Just as Jian Xuan was about to say the two of them were not going, Theron's voice rang out again, filled with a renewed steel-hard resolve.

"Furthermore," Theron said, his gaze sweeping over the remaining leaders.

"I will lead this mission myself."

"Commander! No!" Corvus exploded, followed by objections from several other human.

"You are needed here! To lead the armies! To coordinate the defense!"

"And how can I ask others to make this sacrifice, to gamble their lives for the slim hope of victory if I am unwilling to do so myself?" Theron's voice was a bellow of authority that silenced all dissent.

"Someone must lead from the front. And it will be me." The room plunged into an even deeper silence, a chilling sense of dread settling over them. Theron, their commander-in-chief, was volunteering. Zaltar and Vyltra, two of the most powerful demons were going. Li Yu and Jian Xuan exchanged a look. Their quiet conversation to "not go" suddenly felt small, cowardly. This wasn't the first time that Theron and the members of the Forest made Li Yu feel smaller and like a coward. They were upright, honorable and brave.

Even to a fault.

'How can they be like this?! How come I am so different? Aren't they afraid? Why can they make such decisions when I can't?' Li Yu's thoughts circled him but they didn't change his decision. Just as Li Yu was about to speak, to declare his intention, the very ground beneath them began to rumble. It wasn't the distant vibration of battle. It was a deep, resonant thrum that shook the very foundations of the command tent. It was similar to when the rifts first started opening.

Everyone rushed outside, their eyes scanning the sky. And there, slightly to the east and above the defensive line, a new phenomenon was unfolding. A massive golden rift was tearing open in the fabric of reality. It hung in the sky, shimmering with raw untamed power and radiating an aura of ancient unknowable might. Fear spread among everyone gathered below. What could it be this time? What new hell was about to descend upon their already broken world?