This was a group of supernatural creatures, towering and imposing, their forms strikingly similar to that of humans yet undeniably more fearsome. Each one had long, wild hair cascading over their shoulders, their upper bodies bare and glistening with muscle. Their enormous feet were unshod, slamming into the ground with primal force, while thick, luxurious body hair covered their frames like a mantle of power. Both of their hands gripped weapons tightly, most wielded long, razor-sharp spears, while a few carried lethal javelins.
Across their skin was a dense network of intricate markings, like tattoos etched in ancient patterns. Just glancing at these designs made one's vision swim and head spin with a disorienting dizziness.
"Their markings are dangerous! Don't stare at them directly!" Shouted a doctor from the scientist team, his voice sharp with urgency.
"Totem Barbarians?" Sebastian's brows shot up in recognition as he studied the towering supernatural figures.
They belonged to a rare and formidable barbarian lineage, creatures classified from lower tiers all the way up to the Super Level, and the Totem Barbarians standing before him were no ordinary fighters. Of all barbarian races, this one stood apart, the only species to reach such terrifying heights of power.
Unlike others whose markings were painstakingly tattooed over a lifetime, their intricate patterns were not drawn at all. They were born with them. The totems were a gift of their bloodline, an innate magic that granted them accelerated growth and, in the chaos of battle, the ability to unleash bursts of staggering strength and speed.
Sebastian's sharp gaze swept over the battlefield, taking in the massive horde; over 30,000 of these towering warriors had gathered.
On the other side, Chambers was also watching, his eyes fixed on the Astra Militarum with calculating focus.
"Musketeers and pilots, is it?" He murmured, and caution flickered in his eyes.
He had done his homework. After the lottery ceremony, he had scoured every scrap of data he could find on Sebastian, even replaying recordings of the Astra Militarum's earlier battles. What he saw made his chest tighten.
"Musketeers are nothing, weak as ever." His gaze shifted skyward, locking on the sleek storm fighters circling above like hawks. "But those pilots… they're the real threat."
He remembered the devastating outcome, where Hess units had been utterly crushed by these machines.
"But…" A grin tugged at the corners of Chambers' mouth. "If this were an even match, I might not stand a chance. Now, however… I've kept my trump card hidden just for them."
He raised his voice, sharp and commanding. "Barbarians! Show your courage! Advance and tear these weaklings apart!"
The order cracked like thunder, and the army surged forward. Chamber was a seasoned commander, his instincts honed through countless battles. At a glance, he understood: if he wanted to defeat the Astra Militarum, he needed to crush them swiftly and decisively.
"Ha!" The barbarian chief, an immense warrior towering over the others, let out a thunderous roar that shook the air.
With primal fury, he led his 30,000-strong horde in a relentless charge toward the Astra Militarum.
"Attack them the moment they come in range." Lando's sharp eyes narrowed as he barked his own command. "Pilots, attack! Crush those brutes!"
From the bellies of fifty aircraft, sleek missiles dropped like arrows loosed from a colossal bow. The Astra Militarum had long mastered this devastating weapon, but for many spectators, it was still a shocking sight. The match against Hess had turned the missile into a legend, its destructive power whispered about like a force of nature.
Curiosity and awe hung in the air as the first wave of AGM-62 Walleye screamed downward, streaking toward their targets with deadly precision. Each missile locked onto a different barbarian, striking from every angle to maximize destruction.
"This weapon is as fearsome as I imagined," Chamber murmured, lips curling into a sly smile. "But this time… I'm ready."
He raised his voice in a chilling roar: "Barbarians, join your strength! Block their attack!"
And then, the battlefield changed. To the astonishment of the audience, every totem pattern etched into barbarian flesh suddenly blazed to life, glowing with an eerie brilliance. The barbarian chief was a beacon among them, his body radiating blinding light.
"Roar!" He thrust his spear skyward and unleashed another guttural bellow.
The response was immediate. All 30,000 barbarians flared like blazing torches, their light weaving together in an intricate lattice that stretched across the battlefield, illuminating them as if they were figures from another world. They no longer seemed like mere warriors. They had ascended into something greater.
Their movements became unnaturally swift, their charge gaining terrifying momentum as they thundered toward the Astra Militarum.
"This… this is a domain formed by their totems!?" In a private viewing box, Clifford's father's voice was heavy with awe as he leaned forward, eyes wide.
"A domain?" Clifford, Terrell, and the others were equally stunned.
"That's right," His father said solemnly. "Totem barbarians are exceptionally rare, and legends say that once they surpass Level 3, they awaken the mysterious ability to create domains."
He gestured toward the glowing formation below. "What you're witnessing now is exactly that, a primary domain, forged by uniting the totems of all warriors."
His tone deepened. "Within this domain, they can manipulate anything. This kind of power… is terrifying. I didn't think he could produce such a force. To comprehend the secrets of a domain at Level 2… It's remarkable."
"So strong!?" The shock in Clifford's voice was echoed by the others. A domain formed by 30,000 warriors… the implications were staggering. If this power was so overwhelming, wasn't victory impossible?
"The domain is far from weak," Clifford's father admitted, though a faint smile tugged at his lips. "Chamber has hidden his cards well. I wouldn't be surprised if his true ranking places him among the top one thousand."
"Then doesn't this mean Sebastian is in danger?" Otwin's brows furrowed in concern. "That weapon that Sebastian's pilot uses, if the domain affects its targeting, won't that cripple their strategy?"
"It will," Clifford's father conceded, "but this is still only a primary domain. Its power isn't absolute, and…" He paused, his gaze sharp. "It burns through enormous amounts of totem energy. They can't maintain it for long."
The sky filled with a rising whistle as missiles tore through the air.
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
The first of them plunged into the glowing field, and its behavior changed immediately.
"It's… slowing down?" Cyrus muttered, sensing the shift.
"It's not just slowing," Lando added grimly. "They've studied us. This charge isn't reckless; they're prepared for our weapons. Watch closely."
The missile's speed dropped, though it remained deadly fast, and its trajectory faltered. Like a deer startled from its path, it veered wildly, no longer pursuing its intended target. It shot straight ahead. The thunderous roar of its passage filled the air.
Barbarians scattered with inhuman agility, darting clear as the weapon slammed into the earth. The explosion was deafening.
A massive crater ripped open the battlefield, a storm of rocks and dirt raining down in its wake.
A dozen barbarians were thrown to the ground, injured but alive, spared only because they'd dodged the blast's core. Not a single casualty.
"What!?" Lando, Cyrus, and the entire scientific team were stunned, their faces pale with disbelief.
Never since the inception of missile warfare had they seen this, a guidance system simply… fail. The weapon had been rendered blind.
"Hahahaha!" Chamber's laughter echoed in the viewing room, rich with triumph and mockery, "Well? Impressed? This is my true trump card. Even your most devastating weapon, the pilot's prized creation, has failed!"
His smirk widened. "Sebastian, the so-called strongest freshman? He'd better get comfortable in the loser's bracket."
Shock rippled through the observation box where Clifford and the others sat.
"Their missiles… they've lost their tracking capabilities!?" Clifford's voice was tinged with disbelief.
The revelation sent a wave of unease through the room, a heavy sense of worry settling over them all. They all understood now. Previously, Sebastian had managed to defeat countless powerful opponents. The weapon he wielded was his greatest reliance. Its destructive power was overwhelming, and its precision in locking onto a target was flawless. Defending against it was all but impossible.
"Uncle," Terrell turned toward Clifford's father and asked in a low, serious tone, "Does this Totem Domain have any weaknesses?"
"Weaknesses?" Clifford's father paused, his brows knitting in thought. "As I mentioned earlier, maintaining it consumes a tremendous amount of totem power. It won't last for long."
"How long?" Clifford pressed.
"About three minutes," Clifford's father replied after a brief silence. Then, as though realizing something, he added, "But this is a critical qualifier. Chamber won't hesitate to use some powerful artifact to prolong the field's duration. I'd estimate at least five minutes!"
"Five minutes!?" The color drained from Clifford and the others' faces. The barbarians, empowered by the Totem Domain, were moving at frightening speed. They would reach the Astra Militarum's front lines in under three minutes.
"So, this is the Totem Domain's power…" Sebastian's gaze hardened as he monitored the battlefield.
The first AGM-62 Walleye had failed, and the second met the same fate. Every single missile had lost its guidance system! The realization sent a ripple of unease through the ranks of the Astra Militarum, grim expressions settling over every face.
"The enemy must have…" A scientist furrowed his brow, hypothesizing aloud. "They've established a magnetic disruption field, making our missiles lose their targeting systems."
"That seems likely," Another scientist confirmed. "The sheer number of totems… thirty thousand of them, working in unison, could easily create a magnetic interference field this powerful. In that case, doesn't this mean our missiles are now practically useless?"
The words carried a heavy weight, and several faces darkened. The enemy's maneuver was a masterstroke, completely unexpected. The Astra Militarum's battle plan was being thrown into disarray.
"No, that's not quite right," An older scientist interjected, shaking his head firmly. "If they truly have a field like this, it won't hold for long."
"Maybe not," Another veteran scientist agreed, "but even two or three minutes is enough for them to break through our defenses. So… what do we do?"
The question hung heavily in the tense air. Surrounded by the pressure of this Totem Domain, even the brightest minds felt helpless.
"Keep firing the missiles. Don't stop!" It was Lando who broke the silence, his voice steady but commanding. "No matter what tricks they're playing, we can't afford chaos on our side."
"Pilots, listen up! Launched every AGM-62 Walleye you got. Lock onto their location and strike from every direction!" His intention was clear: if the missiles couldn't strike precisely, they could still saturate the field.
One after another, the fighters unleashed missiles from their underbellies. Streams of fire lit up the skies as explosions echoed across the battlefield. A relentless barrage of detonations thundered in every direction, sending waves of destruction rippling through the enemy formation. The blasts were ferocious, claiming the lives of hundreds of barbarians. Yet, against the tide of 30,000, it felt like nothing.
"The missiles still pack a punch," A scientist murmured with a hint of relief. "But their precision is gone, and the enemy keeps dodging the strikes aimed at their core."
"Look closely…" Another scientist pointed out. "Their formation hasn't shifted. It means their Totem Domain has a fixed radius they can't exceed. That's their limit."
"Exactly," An older scientist added. "If we keep hammering them, the casualties will pile up."
It was becoming clear to everyone: The Astra Militarum, well-prepared for this battle, carried no shortage of heavy firepower. Only Chamber, watching from his vantage point, had no intention of letting this play out passively.
"Charge! Push forward! Crush them with everything you've got!" Chamber bellowed.
"Killing a few hundred with each volley won't save them. My barbarians will tear through their musketeers soon enough," he said with a sinister smile. "Once they're overrun and without ground support, what good are their planes?"
Outside observers had already been analyzing the musketeer squads and aircraft designed by Sebastian. Their conclusion was sobering: While musketeers lacked the sheer destructive presence of the aircraft, they were critical for maintaining control of the battlefield. They were the shield that allowed the aircraft to dominate. Take away that shield, and the planes would be vulnerable.
"It's too late. At this pace, they'll break through, and we'll be lucky to inflict a thousand casualties," said Cyrus coldly, standing beside Lando. The seasoned commander's expression tightened; he'd seen it coming long before.
Another wave of missile strikes erupted, another hundred barbarians falling. But against warriors this formidable, the damage was minimal. AGM-62 Walleye were deadly only if they hit the center mass. Now, stripped of guidance and precision, their killing edge was blunted. Their warheads were… utterly wasted. Without targeting systems, the missiles were almost crippled weapons.
"Hmm?" A young scientist narrowed his eyes as he studied the onrushing enemy, a sudden realization sparking in his mind.
"Their Totem Domain can only disrupt targeting systems and magnetic fields," He observed. "It's not reducing missile velocity or damage. The destructive force is still there. In that case…" He turned to the others. "Why don't we switch to conventional weapons and tear through them the old-fashioned way?"
The suggestion hit like a spark in dry tinder. The room fell silent before a collective groan echoed out. Even Lando and Cyrus widened their eyes in shock, followed by self-reproach. It was so simple. So obvious. Yet, in their reliance on high-tech firepower, they had overlooked it entirely.
On the command screen, Sebastian smirked faintly. Since their victory over Hess, the Astra Militarum had convinced itself that conventional arms were relics destined for retirement. Missiles had become their ultimate killing tool, and Chamber had reached the same conclusion. So when their advanced weapons failed, panic naturally followed. But what they all forgot was this: Missiles were not the only swords in the Astra Militarum's arsenal.
"We've been fools," Lando muttered with a rueful laugh. Then his expression hardened, his voice dropping to a dangerous tone. "Deploy the new weapons we've been perfecting these past 30 years!"
The announcement electrified the room. Although this technology had been conceived three decades ago, relentless refinement and testing had elevated it to near perfection. It had become a staple of their training regimens, yet it had never been unveiled on a battlefield of this scale.
This moment would mark a turning point in the history of the Imperium's weaponry. For decades, these new arms had quietly replaced the old guns powered by gunpowder. Now, they were about to prove themselves as the standard armament of the Astra Militarum.