Chapter 545: No Victor, Only Ashes (1)
The Battle of the Fog.
That was the name given to the clash between the Empire and the nightmare creatures unleashed by the Ultras.
On the Empire’s side, the soldiers suffered bitterly against the Mist Crawlers and other predatory beasts—creatures of overwhelming strength that no ordinary fighter could hope to survive against.
As expected, countless soldiers fell, and only a rare few managed to make it out alive.
And even for that small number, their survival had little to do with their own skill or power—it was thanks to the sudden intervention of Oliver Khan and his personal army.
The appearance of the Great Guardian of the Imperial Palace played a decisive role in suppressing and annihilating the nightmare creatures, ensuring that the Empire did not emerge from the battle in total defeat.
In the end, after long, grueling hours of brutal combat, they managed to wipe out every last nightmare beast. But Oliver’s forces had also paid a steep price...
As the magical fog cast by those creatures finally dissipated, everyone could at last lay eyes upon the massacre that surrounded them.
Here, thousands of humans had been slain in the blink of an eye ..gone before their comrades even realized what had happened.
That fog had stolen their senses, stolen their grasp on reality itself. Fighting nightmare creatures was nothing like fighting humans...
The Empire had "won" the Battle of the Mist, but at a cost so great Oliver Khan doubted they could truly bear it.
The Great Guardian moved through the battlefield, checking the survivors—especially those under Snow Lionheart’s command, who had been fighting since the very beginning.
The number of survivors from that unit was painfully small, and even the lucky ones had suffered injuries that would keep them from fighting further, even if they wanted to.
But the real surprise was this: the ones in the best condition weren’t hardened veterans—they were young men and women who hadn’t even reached the age of twenty.
Among them, Oliver recognized the son of Mist—Ghost Umbra—the witch Selina, and Dawn Polaris.
The three of them looked relatively unscathed, especially Dawn, who was so clean that anyone seeing him would never believe he’d just fought in a war.
It seemed the three had already noticed Oliver, as they greeted him with respectful nods.
"It’s an honor to fight alongside the Great Guardian,"
said Dawn Polaris with a bow ..only for Oliver to stop him at once.
"There’s no need for formalities. We are all soldiers fighting for the same cause."
Oliver was genuinely considerate, yet Ghost and the others could not read his true feelings at all, as his face remained hidden behind his mask.
"Since you’re in the best condition among your comrades, I want you to brief me on the current situation. What exactly happened here? Where is your commander? And most importantly... where is Frey Starlight?"
There was a third name Oliver wished to ask about, but he stopped himself at the last second—assuming she would be with Frey.
The current state of the war was complete chaos. Every Imperial unit had been attacked simultaneously.
To make matters worse, Phoenix Sunlight—one of their strongest fighters—had abandoned his unit without warning, leaving everything behind.
And then there were those terrifying fluctuations of aura Oliver had sensed from afar ..an amount of power unlike anything he had ever felt before.
If things continued at this pace, it would not be impossible for the war to end far sooner than anyone anticipated.
With that in mind, it was critical to gather every fighter still capable of battle and reinforce those holding the vanguard in the most violent fronts.
Ghost Umbra took it upon himself to explain the current situation, and the more details he revealed, the wider Oliver’s eyes grew.
Snow Lionheart had fought Cosmos, and both had vanished during the battle...
Sansa Valerion had faced the Eight-Limbed Lady alone...
And Frey Starlight had stood face-to-face with Dragoth, the Human Demon himself...
Three youths of the new generation, each pitted against ancient monsters that had roamed and terrorized the world for centuries.
Those facts alone were enough for Oliver Khan to rally the troops immediately, taking as many able-bodied soldiers as he could, and charging directly toward the locations of these prodigies who had shouldered the heaviest burdens of the war alone.
The situation was far from in their favor. Oliver Khan was the only first-tier combatant present ..there was no one else capable of matching an SS-class opponent.
Yet, to his surprise, the youngest among them ..Ghost and Selina ..were the first to volunteer to accompany him.
As they crossed the barren lands of the Ultras together, Oliver found his gaze drifting toward them from time to time...
’The greatest generation in the history of the Empire... warriors capable of surpassing their rank and displaying strength far beyond their level—all thanks to the talents and gifts they were born with ’
’ An assassin whose strikes can harm opponents above his rank. A witch who can multiply her power by inscribing spells upon her own body. A duelist with a miraculous ability to survive anything thrown at him.’
And these were only the simplest examples.
There was also Snow Lionheart ..the most gifted human in history, blessed beyond compare.
Sansa Valerion ..the only human to fully transform into a demon.
A terrifying prince who held the strings of everything in his grasp.
And Frey Starlight—the miracle destined to surpass his own father.
No matter how Oliver thought about it, no matter how many scenarios he ran through in his mind, he came to the same conclusion:
If not for this extraordinary generation, the Empire would have already fallen long ago. The scales had never once been even between them and their enemies.
That was why the Ultras had tried to kill them all when they were abducted—the enemy knew these were not talents to be allowed to live.
’No matter the cost, these children must survive. If they continue to grow at this pace, they will be the beacon of humanity’
With a generation like this, it was not unthinkable for humanity to one day reach the same level as the First Generation that had fought the original war against the demons...
No—perhaps they would even surpass them.
Oliver Khan had already made up his mind.
He would protect them with everything he had.
That resolve was the thought that stayed with him throughout the entire march, as they advanced together in search of their missing comrades.
It was only a matter of seconds before everyone froze in place—heads and eyes locked in the same direction, staring in awe, unable to comprehend what they were seeing.
Far ahead, several dozen kilometers away... they caught sight of it.
The corpse of a colossal monster that had struck fear into the hearts of mankind for countless years.
A creature spoken of by mothers in bedtime horrors, a living legend untouchable by mortals...
The Eight-Limbed Lady ..a being so vast her size dwarfed the tallest mountains—now lay dead, her massive body impaled by an enormous spear stretching hundreds of meters into the sky.
A black spear, forged from shadow that burned like black fire.
It stood tall and unyielding, hoisting the corpse of one of the Lords of Nightmare as though it were nothing.
All around it, a vast expanse of earth had been reduced to nothing but wreckage and ruin.
A crater more than ten miles across stretched in every direction, silently narrating the savage battle that had taken place here.
"One of the Lords of Nightmare... has fallen," Oliver Khan murmured, unable to grasp the reality before his eyes.
As they drew closer, Oliver and his men felt the Eight-Limbed Lady’s blood pooling around their boots—the sheer volume spilling from her was enough to form a thick, red lake.
The nearer they came, the more overwhelming the sight became. The monster’s body completely blotted out the sky.
And yet, as their eyes traced the shadow of that monstrous corpse, their thoughts drifted elsewhere ..to the one responsible for this bloody masterpiece.
The demoness who had conjured that towering spear of shadow.