Chapter 1 In the Throes of Advance

In their arduous advance, the vanguard of the Holy Domain Expeditionary Force had suffered grievous casualties.

The most outstanding knights had fallen in battle, the most devout priests lay prostrate in the yellow earth. The war against the chaotic demonic creatures was a ruthless meat grinder. Those merciless, unyielding, cold-blooded, and brutal monsters knew only how to destroy everything, and the battle with them would only end when one side was utterly annihilated.

And the price of such a tragic sacrifice was a mere four kilometers of advance.

After that four-kilometer push, the Spiral Hill loomed larger in the distance. This proximity was enough for Lockmarton to feel threatened—if that chaotic tyrant was even capable of such an emotion. The cannon fodder of the chaotic demonic creatures began to surge out from the smoke and storms with even greater ferocity, and another, even more terrifying monster appeared on the battlefield.

These were flesh golems that resembled giants to ordinary people. They were four or five meters tall, vaguely human in form, but every limb was abnormally swollen, and huge, festering pustules covered their bodies. Swollen muscles and blood vessels seemed about to burst out from their skin. They had no obvious head; at the top of their hideous bodies grew an irregularly shaped black protrusion. Two rows of dull yellow eyes twitched madly on that mass of rotten flesh, sending chills down one’s spine at the mere sight of them.

These terrifying monsters seemed ungainly, but in reality, they were extremely swift. They seemed to possess the innate ability to control gravity, their bloated bodies constantly floating three or four meters above the ground. Countless evil runes roamed across their skin, granting them various protective effects and the ability to corrupt. Within hundreds of meters of these monsters, everything withered and decayed, life flowed away rapidly, weapons quickly rotted, and even minds seemed infected with a plague, becoming drowsy and haunted by nightmares.

These powers set them apart from the cannon fodder of the chaotic demonic creatures.

They were the monsters known as "Lockmarton Derivatives," deformed demons born directly from Lockmarton's thoughts, only appearing in the deepest parts of the nightmare world.

The moment these monsters appeared, the ordinary front-line soldiers were immediately greatly affected. Although every member of the expeditionary force possessed the ability to use divine magic to dispel this negative energy, the presence of hundreds of such monsters on the battlefield simultaneously put immense pressure on the Holy Domain warriors, who were, after all, ordinary people. Visibly, a column on the flank of the legion began to collapse.

At this critical moment, the ten Wardens immediately took over the severely damaged spearhead of the legion. The rock giants instantly strode across the battlefield, standing tall in front of those "Derivatives," sheltering the faltering flank. Divine script flowed across their immense bodies, and a layer of light leaped into shape between them, blocking the corrosive power of the Derivatives.

Gorton, King of Mountains and Rivers, conjured a warhammer made of rock. He slammed the hammer forcefully into the ground, and in the earthquake-like tremors, several Derivatives closest to him instantly turned into grayish-white stone blocks, crashing to the ground.

"Hahaha, it's been a long time since I beat up these 'meat sacks,' they still feel as awful as ever!"

Gorton laughed heartily, his words full of disdain and strong confidence. His voice swept across the entire battlefield, reinvigorating the morale of the legion, which had been somewhat shaken by the constant mental attacks.

"Is that so? I think these guys are perfect targets—burn 'em up, make 'em crispy!"

The voice of Gulash, King of Fire, came from the side. Powerful scorching rays burst from the eyes of this bald-headed rock giant. As the rays focused, one Derivative after another burst into flames and shattered, like firecrackers being lit.

But more Derivatives emerged from the smoke, and they were clearly multiplying faster than the Wardens could eliminate them.

Another ball of order light appeared behind the Wardens. This light jumped through the ranks of the Knights, coming to the side of the King of Mountains and Rivers, who glanced down and saw a majestic silver-white giant wolf in the light.

He knew this giant wolf. In Kalaxius's description, this was what the "Alpha" looked like after transforming. He looked at the order light surging around the creature in surprise. This light was even purer and brighter than the order light on the Wardens.

A voice sounded near the wolf's nose: "How much further!? Are we close enough to attack?"

Gorton looked again and finally saw that Hao Ren was standing on the giant wolf’s nose.

"To be honest, it's not optimistic," Gorton's voice was no longer as loud as before. He constricted the air vibrations, limiting his voice to the vicinity. "Lockmarton's claws are more troublesome than we imagined. It hasn't even exposed its true form yet. If we launch an attack at this distance, we'll easily be blocked by a large number of cannon fodder and Lockmarton's mental barriers."

"Indeed, it's too far… there's a high probability that the plan will go wrong if we execute it here," Hao Ren straightened up on Lily's nose, peering at the Spiral Hill. "We must break through these troublesome cannon fodder."

"We must eliminate the Derivatives," Gorton said in a deep voice. "They are already equivalent to Lockmarton's flesh extensions. If we eliminate them, it will greatly weaken the defenses near Spiral Hill."

"They seem to be appearing out of thin air," Hao Ren frowned, looking in the direction where the Derivatives were "born." There, two plumes of smoke were constantly creating those bloated, hideous monsters. "Those smoke columns are strange. They have very high defenses, and there are too many guards around them."

"Because Lockmarton's two tentacles are inside the smoke columns," Gorton said seriously. "We must find a way to destroy them."

Hao Ren nodded, looking towards the two smoke columns, then shifted his gaze to where the Holy Domain legion and the chaotic demonic creatures were clashing.

The situation was not good.

The battlefield was like a rough grindstone that could turn sharpness into dust. The Holy Domain legion's indomitable silver spearhead crashed hard against this grindstone. In the constant grinding and attrition, it was being consumed layer by layer. Although they were still advancing, the speed of this advance was visibly slowing.

They were about to collapse.

If things continued this way, not to mention inflicting enough damage on Lockmarton, it would be extremely difficult for the army to even break through the chaotic defenses.

Hao Ren gripped the pistol in his hand and gently tapped Lily's nose with his heel—this was the signal to charge.

Although this was contrary to the previous plan, and prematurely consuming their strength and exposing themselves would easily greatly reduce the final effect of the entire plan, there seemed to be no other choice at present. If they could not reorganize the legion's morale and break through this deadly meat grinder defense line, then there would be no chance for subsequent plans to unfold.

But just as he was thinking this and about to put his thoughts into action, a strange commotion suddenly came from the flank.

He immediately looked up and saw a large number of swaying black shadows suddenly appearing on the edge of the dim and chaotic battlefield.

These black shadows stretched into a continuous mass, but they had no banners or insignia, and they did not seem to be chaotic claws.

When they got close enough, Hao Ren finally knew what they were—

It was the "Doomsday Legion"!

Tattered clothing, twisted and festering limbs, faces completely devoid of human form. This "legion," which looked as hideous as the chaotic demonic creatures, actually appeared here. No one knew how they had left the position that bound their obsessions, crossed the scorched earth plains filled with chaotic demonic creatures, and arrived on this battlefield, but they had come, unexpectedly, against all odds.

The twisted, mutated legion came to the edge of the Holy Domain Knights' flank, attracting everyone's attention. Then Hao Ren saw a particularly tall warrior walking out in front of the "Doomsday Legion."

Like the others, he had completely lost his human form. The multiple segments of overgrown, swollen limbs and a pile of tentacles made him look like a monster. The warrior staggered to the front of the line, then used clumsy movements to take something out from between his mutated limbs and unfold it.

It was a tattered rag.

He solemnly unfolded the rag and hung it on a rotten, festering bone spur on his back.

Then he staggered to the astonished Knights, struggling to sway his body and tearing at the flesh on his chest with his festering bone claws. He tried to make some sound, but what he ultimately uttered was a hoarse, bizarre howl.

No one could understand what he was saying. The ancient warrior had completely forgotten human language himself.

"I heard the bells… we followed… is it time to attack?"

This was what he wanted to ask—but no one could communicate with him.

The shouts of the vanguard charge passed over the battlefield and reached the flank. The storm stirred up by the chaotic smoke columns roared past like thunder. The twisted warrior finally noticed all of this. He seemed to be listening intently, then looked up.

The entire legion behind him turned with him.

And at that moment, another team surged over from the rear of the Holy Domain Expeditionary Force.

They were shimmering ghosts, skeletal remains, empty armor, and holy robes floating in the air.

They were the Holy Domain Expeditionary Force's legion of heroic spirits, the ten thousand who had been buried in the City of God's Grace for ten thousand years. In the original plan, they were to serve as the legion's reserve force. When the attack on Spiral Hill was frustrated, they would launch an attack, because the souls of the dead were beginning to dissipate, and their attack had to be reserved for the last moment.

It seemed that this was the last moment they had chosen.

The dead passed over the lines of the living, silently but firmly stepping across the shield of order jointly supported by the ten Wardens. A tall ghost wearing a white holy robe passed in front of the twisted warrior, paused slightly, and patted the other's shoulder.

Old brother, it's time to attack.

Thus, ten thousand soldiers charged.