First Light of a New Age

Chapter 110: The Last Standing

A/n: This is going to be the most intense battle both sides might even face.

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Kingdom Of High Tarxa, In An Ocean, High Tarxan Sea, Island of Arlithrien, Tarxan Island Outpost.

1st Year of God, Monday, 1st Week, Month Of David.

Dozens of billowing smoke along with the obvious orange glow of flames were rising from every direction of the forest. Countless thundering shots echoed incessantly throughout the forest as the sound of footsteps radiated against the earth. Deafening explosions shattered the air, and the sky darkened to a choking grey from all the smoke and ashes that were proliferating through the entire battlefield.

Bodies of fallen heroes from both sides of the battlefield littered the ground as the countless crimson fluid coming out from their bodies formed rivers that sank into the bottom of the soil and stained the battlefield with the price of war.

At the far edge of the battlefield lies the battered commander's quarters. The new commander had temporarily taken charge, as Lord Caelith and the Archmages were still recovering from the ritual that had left them weakened. The quarters, like the defenders themselves, bore the scars of the heavy fighting that was transpiring everywhere. They didn't expect that they would have lasted this long, considering the fact that they believed the invaders possessed extremely advanced magic technology.

Despite expectations of a quick defeat, given the invaders’ seemingly superior magical technology, the defenders of the Kingdom of High Tarxa had endured far longer than anyone thought possible. Their resilience spoke to their deep experience in warfare, even against such overwhelming odds.

The defenders, though limited in resources, fought with unyielding determination. While their magic-enhanced weapons lacked the sophistication of the invaders' arsenal, they compensated with grit and strategy. Rows of elves rotated between battle and rest to recover their mana, allowing them to continue the fight. Bows, arrows, and muskets, though rudimentary by comparison, became deadly instruments in their hands when paired with physical and mental enhancements that heightened their strength and precision.

Through these desperate measures, the defenders proved more formidable than anticipated. But the invaders' firepower was no joke. Their magic-infused weapons tore through even the most experienced sword fighters before they could close the distance. Those of the superiors who knew of sword fighting using magic were forced to resort to range weapons even if it weren't their forte.

As before, if they could even reach the position of the invaders, they were already dead. Some of them even used some magical protection which includes magic shields or barriers to defend themselves, but the sheer volume of fire landed towards them are enough to break it, leaving mages vulnerable and often dead within moments. It was immensely tough for them.

Moreover, the defenders always had to find cover at every turn with each moment that came to pass, only to find their makeshift shelters disintegrating under bombardment.

The high-intensity warfare that is currently happening before them, the thunder of guns, the crack of magic, the roar of explosions, mentally destroyed some defenders, driving some to madness. Those who weren't able to fully register the things that were transpiring found themselves caught in a spiral of denial, unable to process the horrors unfolding around them.

The Tarxan Coalition Army was on the brink of collapse, many soldiers reduced to holding their ears in a vain attempt to block out the noise. But this futile reprieve came at a cost. As their cover eroded under continuous assault, they were exposed to a hailstorm of enemy fire, and their ranks were thinning further with each passing moment.