The realization became clearer with every passing minute. My father ruled the team through force, overwhelming enemies until resistance simply ceased to matter. My mother ruled through defensive preparation.
The shield was only the most visible part of that system.
The moment the four creatures began their assault, the defenders responded.
Streams of soul energy surged through prepared channels beneath the mountain as offensive formations activated across the surrounding peaks. Brilliant lances of blue light erupted from hidden positions and slammed into the advancing beasts. Entire sections of the mountain opened to reveal arrays that launched compressed spheres of soul energy powerful enough to shake the surrounding sea.
At the same time, the Transcendent warriors gathered behind the protection of the barrier began contributing their own attacks.
My father wasn’t the only powerful fighter present.
Bolts of lightning flashed through the water. Spears of ice crossed the battlefield. Blades of compressed force and waves of elemental energy hammered into the creatures from dozens of directions. Every attack struck with enough power to level cities back in Vaythos.
And for a while, it worked.
The creatures were forced back repeatedly as the combined assault crashed into them. One of the beasts lost several tentacles beneath a barrage of attacks. Another was driven into a neighboring mountain after a concentrated bombardment from multiple formation arrays.
For several minutes the battlefield settled into a brutal rhythm.
The defenders attacked and the creatures kept advancing. The shield absorbed the worst of the retaliation.
But then the balance began to shift.
The problem wasn’t strength. The problem was numbers.
A single Peak Transcendent beast could be contained.
Perhaps even two.
Four was an entirely different matter.
The creatures began adapting to the pressure. Rather than attacking individually, they started coordinating their assaults. While two focused on suppressing the defenders with waves of soul energy, the other two concentrated entirely on the barrier itself.
The effect was immediate.
The shield trembled.
Massive tentacles crashed against the runic dome from multiple directions at once. Soul energy flooded across its surface while the creatures relentlessly exploited every momentary weakness they discovered.
My mother’s formations responded. Runes shifted. Power rerouted. Damaged sections reinforced themselves.
Yet every adjustment consumed resources.
Every successful defense came at a cost.
The first crack appeared near the northern section of the barrier.
It sealed almost instantly.
Then another appeared elsewhere.
Then a third.
The shield continued holding, but only because my mother was constantly compensating for the damage faster than it could accumulate.
I watched her move through the formation network below, issuing instructions and making adjustments with incredible speed. Even from this distance I could see the pressure gradually increasing.
The creatures had realized something important. They didn’t need to destroy the defenders.
They only needed to exhaust them.
Another coordinated assault struck the barrier.
BOOM!!
The entire mountain range shook. This time the damage lingered.
A web of fractures spread across one section of the shield before stabilizing. The runes surrounding the damaged area brightened dramatically as additional power was diverted to keep the structure intact.
I frowned.
"They aren’t going to last much longer."
Beside me, Roland nodded.
"No."
"What happens if the shield breaks?"
"The same thing that happens during every failed operation."
His gaze remained fixed on the battlefield below.
"They retreat."
I blinked.
"That’s it?"
"What else would they do?"
The old man sounded genuinely puzzled by the question.
"The objective isn’t worth losing hundreds of people."
Another violent impact rippled through the barrier. A section of the shield visibly dimmed before recovering.
Roland continued watching.
"If the formations collapse, everyone falls back toward the central teleportation circles. Priority personnel leave first. Construction materials are abandoned. The site is evacuated."
"And the mission?"
"Fails."
The answer came without hesitation.
"The region remains under native control. The outpost project gets postponed. A stronger force is assembled and someone tries again later."
Another coordinated strike landed. This time the cracks spread farther than before.
The defenders immediately intensified their attacks, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that the situation was deteriorating.
The creatures weren’t weakening.
The shield was.
I watched the cracks continue to spread across the shield before shaking my head.
"No offense to everyone down there, but there’s no way I’m letting my parents fail a mission while I’m here."
Roland glanced at me and chuckled.
"I thought that might be your answer."
The cracks continued spreading across the barrier despite everyone’s efforts. New fractures appeared faster than the old ones could be repaired, and the runes across the formation were beginning to dim under the constant strain.
My mother watched the latest impact race across the barrier before making her decision.
"Thirty seconds, folks!"
Her voice echoed throughout the entire outpost.
Instantly, the atmosphere changed. This was not a panicked retreat but a practiced withdrawal.
Teams that had been supporting the shield redirected their energy toward activating teleportation circles hidden throughout the mountain.
The entire operation transformed with remarkable efficiency.
Within moments, everyone was already preparing to leave.
My father landed beside my mother as another violent tremor shook the mountain beneath their feet.
"Looks like we failed the mission."
His tone was far too casual for someone overseeing the collapse of a major operation. My mother didn’t even look up from the formation controls.
"Yeah. And your father is going to remind you about it every day for at least a week."
My father winced.
"A week?"
"You’re being optimistic."
She finally glanced toward him.
"I was thinking closer to a month."
"Now that’s just cruel."
"It isn’t cruelty if it’s true."
My father sighed dramatically.
"You know, I got my mother on my side. She can handle the drunk old man."
A faint smile tugged at her lips.
"You say that every time."
"And every time I’m right."
Another impact rattled the barrier. The two of them looked toward the growing fractures.
The smiles faded.
My mother shook her head.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night."
The shield groaned again. Large sections of the barrier were now covered in glowing fractures.
The evacuation countdown continued. Twenty seconds.
My father reached out and gently pulled her away from the formation controls.
"We should go."
She hesitated for a brief moment as she looked over the outpost one last time.
Then she exhaled and nodded.
"Yeah."
My father wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"We’ll build another one."
A small smile appeared on her face despite herself. For a moment they simply stood together while chaos unfolded around them.
Then they turned toward the evacuation point. High above the battlefield, I looked toward Roland.
The old man raised an eyebrow.
I grinned.
"Showtime."
Roland chuckled. The world blurred for me and I vanished.