Another legion of mutants was annihilated by the flames and lightning. Their fearless attack failed to break through the defenses of the mortals and only delayed the activation of the purification devices. The nerve signals sent back by the annihilation of a large number of low-level units formed a sharp howl in the root network. The howl reverberated and reverberated among the command nodes formed by the dark priests. By the time it reached the highest node, only a few insignificant aftershocks were left.
The dry wind blew across the hills and the wilderness. Borken's withered and twisted branches trembled slightly in the wind. The grand hierarch listened to the voices from afar in the wind. The wails of the inferior nodes sounded like a distant dream to him. After a few minutes, the leader of the dark priests woke up from his' dream ', and his attention gradually returned to the real world in front of him.
"They have begun to fight back," he said in a low voice. He was not talking to any particular priest but whispered softly in the root network. He was not worried that this would affect the morale of his side because all the priests were connected to the same root network. Everyone's emotions had been 'assimilated' to a certain extent. Although every node in the network still maintained their original personality and memory, they had all been erased of any thoughts of 'betrayal' or 'abandonment'. No matter how the situation changed, the will of the church would always be unwavering, always moving toward the ultimate goal.
This was a common and voluntary decision of everyone, including Borken himself.
"Those purification devices are gradually encroaching on our land. They seem to want to build some kind of 'barrier' in the wasteland that can penetrate this land." A voice from a dark hierarch rang out in the root network. "Wherever this barrier goes, the environment we rely on for survival is greatly affected, and even … there is a 'reverse'."
"If the wall is built, the energy cycle in the wasteland is likely to be cut off," another slightly old voice said in the network. "They seem to have discovered the operating mechanism deep in the land and deciphered the principle of the endless army of mutants. Our current forces cannot completely stop them. Those purification devices are extending to the central area at a very high speed."
Another gust of wind blew from the direction of the wasteland and set off a wave of rustling in the woods around the hillock. The discussion in the root network continued, but Borken's attention was in another direction. Footsteps came from beside him. Two identical elves came up to him and said in unison, "It sounds like we are not in a good situation now."
Borken's eyes casually swept across the elven twins. "I didn't expect you two to be worried about the situation. I thought you two would just gather together and whisper to each other and not care about the outcome of the battle."
"You have misunderstood us. Of course we care about our common cause. It's just that our personalities are too cold," Firna said with a sincere expression. Rayna followed. "So, what do you think of the current situation? We have been pushed back on all fronts. In the past half a month, not only have we not successfully launched a new runestone, but we have also lost all our territories. This is not optimistic … "
Borken looked at the elven twins in silence and then closed his eyes. "The situation has not developed according to our initial plan, but the situation is not that bad … We are different from the mortal army. As long as the environment in the wasteland is maintained, our army is endless. The loss of the mutants is negligible … The regeneration of the mutants can keep up with the rate of depletion. As for the mortals … they will not get any spoils of war in this wasteland. Their actions here are purely a cost. Perhaps it is difficult for us to achieve a quick victory, but as long as we maintain this attrition … the final victor may not be the mortals."
It sounded like the dark patriarch had, to a certain extent, acknowledged the current situation and grasped the 'essence' of the war. He was not discouraged but chose another path of victory.
But Firna and Rayna shook their heads after hearing Borken's words. Rayna said, "Do you really think so?"
"If you have something to say, just say it." Borken opened his tawny eyes and stared at the twin elves. "I don't like your riddles and metaphors."
"Then let's get straight to the point." Firna shrugged. "You don't understand the war potential of a country that has completed its industrial transformation, and you don't understand how the economic system established by Cecil works after he successfully integrated the countries of the Alliance. You habitually think that this long war will bring down all the countries of the Alliance. From a certain point of view, this statement is correct. Any endless war can bring down a country, but to be honest … the intensity of the war on the wasteland is below the 'threshold' for the new Alliance."
"Below the threshold?" Borken's voice became serious. "What do you mean?"
"Their economy will gradually adapt to the wartime mode. Their industrial machinery will rapidly grow and expand in the next period of time. Their tanks and guns will be produced at an alarming rate, even faster than the grain in the field. The Alliance will establish a new social order, specially adapted to this war. After a short period of consumption, investment, and adaptation, this war will become their new economic growth point and social cohesion point, a new wealth mechanism, a new industrial cycle, and a new cultural atmosphere. In this process, even the most backward city-states will be swept up to rapidly complete their industrialization.
"Patriarch, do you think that periodically sending troops to the front line can bring down a group of industrialized countries? That's impossible. That requires a higher intensity of war. At the very least, their industrial production has to be completely unable to keep up with the consumption at the front line. You can't do that. You're not consuming them. You're just gradually 'cultivating' them into a … war civilization. "
After the elven twins finished speaking, Borken fell into deep thought. For a long time, the elven twins who spoke in an eccentric manner rarely spoke to him at length, and with such a serious attitude. Therefore, what they said now caused more waves in Borken's heart than ever before. He slowly understood the meaning behind the twins' words, and his face that was made of rough and withered bark became solemn. "You have 'calculated'?"
"It doesn't need to be calculated." Firna smiled. "In the long history of the Silver Elves, we have witnessed various forms of civilization and social stages. The way industrial society operates is different from what you are familiar with. Even the seemingly powerful Kingdom of Gondor is actually behind the present 'Alliance' in terms of civilization level. If you don't believe me, you can recall now. In this war, after the mortal kingdoms had reacted from the initial chaos, from the time they began to retaliate until now, those mortals armed with war machines … have increased in number?"
More! Fight! More! More!
That word was like a thunderbolt that suddenly exploded in Borken's heart. He realized the truth behind that vital detail. His long inertia and lack of understanding of the situation of the nations outside the wastelands had prevented him from focusing on the mechanism behind the Alliance. But in that very moment, he realized that what the pair of eccentric elven sisters told him was right.
Those mortals … their war machines were growing faster than the Wastelands Legion's power limit. This war was no longer a burden for the 'Alliance', but was slowly becoming nutrients for their growth. Their technology and production capacity had not declined, and instead began to accelerate. Those purification devices and the mechanized armies that were emerging from various battlefronts were the result of that development!
In contrast, the Wastelands Legion was almost out of trump cards.
"… They are using us to train their soldiers, to test their weapons and equipment," Borken said in an unusually low and hoarse voice. A disturbing thought wave spread through the root network. He looked up at the Firna sisters. "You came here to tell me this. You don't just want to scare me or laugh at me, right?"
"Of course not," Rayna said flatly. "We have said that we have a common goal. That is why we don't want you to be so passive and slow to step into this war trap. What we said just now was just to wake you up. Next … is how to solve the dilemma we are facing now. "
"What solution do you have?" Borken narrowed his eyes slightly. "If what you just said is completely correct, then the Wastelands Legion has fallen into an unsolvable vortex. We have already stepped into this trap. Although we have only stepped into its edge, but in this vortex, we do not have the strength to pull our feet out. Do you have a way to destroy the Alliance's industrial system in a short time? Or break up their alliance? "
"Don't think in that direction. The frontal battle is irreversible. Or rather, we could not win this war from the beginning. The only thing we can rely on is the power of the Deep Blue Network," Firna said in a low voice. Then Rayna said, "Perhaps one day in the future, those mortals can develop to the level of fighting against the Deep Blue Network. But at least for now, their industry and technology are still not worth mentioning in front of the Deep Blue Network. As long as we hold the reins of this planet in our hands, we can crush all their potential and future with invincible power …"
"So we still need to tame this planet. Of course, I know that." Borken's tone was unfriendly. "But as I said, we have been pushed back into the Great Wall. There is no new drop point, and we can't set up new runic stones. How do you plan to continue taming this planet?"
"Who says we don't have new drop points?" Firna suddenly smiled. Her eyes seemed to look past the grand patriarch and into the depths of the distant wasteland. "Don't we have the largest Deep Blue Node right under our nose?"
Borken was stunned for a moment before he reacted. "You mean the territory of the ancient ghosts? Indeed … there is the largest Deep Blue Rift on the planet's surface, but there is also an army of ironmen in action, and a fully functional Gondor Fortress! We need to mobilize the army to be able to take that place. But before that, I'm afraid our frontal battle will have collapsed first! "
"So … we need to pay a price." Rayna looked at Borken's wrinkled face with a serious expression. "Grand Patriarch Borken, the key question now is … what price are you willing to pay for our noble cause?"
"… What do you mean?"
"Are you ready to stake everything on this one throw?"
…
The flames from the heavy burners swept across the land for the last time. In the horrifying heat created by the combination of alchemical grease and magic flame, the ferocious limbs and foul breath of the mutated monsters finally turned into ashes. When the flames gradually dissipated, only blackened wreckage and still twitching flesh and blood were left on the ground. The smoke and dust from the self-disintegration of the mutated monsters were mixed among the biochemical beasts, shrouding the entire battlefield in a layer of fog.
An unusually tall figure walked forward with heavy footsteps. He held a mechanical war hammer in one hand and a heavy burner in the other. Scripture cloth emitting a faint white light was fixed on his heavy armor with wax and rivets. The holy light was dazzling.
He passed by the soldiers and priests who were cleaning up the battlefield and came to the side of a heavy chariot that had just stopped. He watched as Philip nimbly jumped off the chariot. Then, the tall figure casually placed the heavy war hammer on the ground beside him and reached out to take off his helmet. A small figure appeared from the nearby holy light, nimbly and skillfully climbed onto his shoulder, holding his head and swinging it back and forth.
"Grand Patriarch Wright." Philip nodded to the fully armed leader of the holy light in front of him. Then he smiled and waved to the small figure on the Grand Patriarch's shoulder. "And little Emily."
"Uncle Philip, good afternoon." The small figure made of holy light spoke in an ethereal voice. There was a smile in her voice. "We have destroyed the enemy again!"
"The counterattack of these mutated monsters is getting crazier, but from the perspective of command and dispatch, they are getting more and more chaotic." Wright reached out and patted Emily's hair. He said to Philip, "I think they are not even as threatening as they were a few days ago. At least they knew how to cover each other and use the terrain to fight."
"Their counterattack is getting crazier because our continuous advancement of the purification device has stimulated their instincts. Their actions are chaotic, which means that the command system behind them is overwhelmed. The Alliance is launching counterattacks on multiple fronts. All countries have recovered from the previous chaos and are sending more and more troops into this battlefield. Those dark priests are not professional war talents." Philip shook his head. "At first, they just relied on sneak attacks and the advantage of numbers. They don't know how to fight on a real, normal battlefield."
Wright nodded and looked not far away. He saw a patch of roots and vines growing out of the earth quickly spreading across the wasteland, covering the lush green land. Between the roots and vines, thicker and more flexible 'tentacles' were constantly extending. These tentacles were like arms running around the battlefield, constantly picking and choosing between the charred and broken remains of the monsters. When they found a piece in better condition, they would quickly roll it up and drag it back to the ground. It looked very strange … but also somewhat funny.
It was a living forest that had extended into the depths of the wasteland. In the past, she had been advancing with the Cecil Army and played a role that could not be ignored.
The expression on the Grand Patriarch's face became a little strange.
"To be honest … the battlefield on our side is not very 'normal' …"
(End of Chapter)
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