The valley trembles under the first exchange.
Sound meets light.
And shatters it.
Dai Quan stands unmoving at the centre of the convoy, his expression calm, his figure small compared to the overwhelming tide of Ruin Monsters that flood the valley ahead.
Before him stretches an army.
Endless.
Scrap-Husks in their thousands fill the front ranks, their bodies made of crude, rusted iron and blackened steel, their limbs jerking unnaturally as exposed gears grind violently within their frames.
The sound is unbearable.
Grinding.
Scraping.
A constant mechanical scream that drills into the mind.
Behind them stand the larger figures.
Gear-Colossi.
Their movements smoother.
Heavier.
Their presence presses into the air like a weight.
And at the very front,
The Monolith Architect.
Its form is sleek.
Dark.
Light bends around its surface as if unwilling to touch it.
Halos of rotating gears circle its limbs, each one spinning with precise, terrifying control.
Its mana core pulses.
Bright.
Hungry.
The ground beneath them begins to change.
Plants wither instantly.
The air itself feels thinner.
Mana decays.
Even the flow of energy in the valley begins to distort under their presence.
Dai Quan does not move.
His eyes remain half-lidded.
His breathing is steady.
Then,
He sings.
Siren Song spreads outward once more, but now it is deeper, layered, far more complex than before.
It is no longer just defence.
It becomes perception.
A complete sonar map unfolds in his mind.
Every Ruin Monster.
Every gear.
Every mana core.
Every weakness.
And more than that,
The sound vibrates through them.
Locks them.
The Scrap-Husks in the front lines freeze mid-motion, their jerky limbs halting unnaturally as the resonance interferes with their internal mechanisms.
Their gears grind violently, sparks bursting from their joints.
But they do not fall.
They adapt.
The army surges forward again.
And they fire.
Thousands of Needle-Bolts rip through the air, thin red beams slicing toward Dai Quan and the convoy behind him.
Dai Quan lifts a single finger.
The air around him compresses.
*Sonic Depth-Charge.*
A sphere of condensed sound launches forward like a torpedo.
It collides with the front ranks,
Then implodes.
The surrounding space collapses inward, pulling dozens of Scrap-Husks into a crushing vacuum before detonating outward.
The explosion tears them apart.
Metal fragments scatter like rain.
But the army does not stop.
Behind them, the Gear-Colossi begin their assault.
Their arms glow.
Geometric Pulses form,
Spheres.
Triangles.
Solid constructs of blue and violet light.
They launch.
The moment they strike the ground,
They explode into thousands of shards, each one seeking energy, feeding, multiplying destruction.
Dai Quan exhales.
His voice deepens.
The melody shifts.
*Shrieking Typhoon.*
A violent gale erupts around him, expanding outward in a five-kilometre radius, carrying with it invisible sonic needles that shred everything they touch.
The incoming shards are torn apart mid-air.
Scrap-Husks are sliced into fragments before they can even reach him.
The valley fills with howling wind and screaming metal.
Yet still,
They advance.
The Monolith Architect moves.
Its halos spin faster.
The grinding becomes a deep, resonant hum that shakes the bones.
Then it raises its arm.
The air bends.
A *Spectrum Pillar* descends.
A massive beam of prismatic light crashes toward Dai Quan, distorting space itself.
Where it touches,
Reality breaks.
Stone dissolves into raw energy.
Air fractures.
The ground disappears into nothingness.
Dai Quan finally opens his eyes fully.
Cold.
Focused.
He does not dodge.
He steps forward.
And disappears.
*Dolphin's Grace.*
His body becomes pure magic energy, slipping through space like water.
He reappears above the convoy.
The beam strikes where he stood,
Erasing a massive section of the valley into a void.
But Dai Quan raises his hand.
The air freezes.
*Deep-Sea Glacial Tomb.*
Black ice spreads instantly across the battlefield, creeping outward like a living force, freezing the ground, the air, even the movement of mana itself.
Scrap-Husks are locked in place.
Gear-Colossi slow.
Their joints resist.
Their gears grind against frozen resistance.
The advance halts.
For a moment.
But the Monolith Architect pulses.
Its core flares.
The ice begins to crack.
Reality shifts again.
Gravity twists.
Time stutters.
Dai Quan's gaze sharpens.
Enough.
He lifts both hands.
The valley trembles.
*Great Megalodon Tsunami.*
Water condenses from the air itself, gathering into a colossal wave shaped like a spectral shark, its jaws opening wide as it surges forward.
It crashes into the army.
Swallowing.
Crushing.
Grinding metal into nothing under impossible pressure.
Scrap-Husks vanish instantly.
Gear-Colossi are torn apart within its currents.
But the Monolith Architect stands.
Unmoved.
Its halos spin violently.
Another beam begins to form.
Dai Quan's song changes again.
Lower.
Deeper.
More terrifying.
*Moon-Howl Resonance.*
The sound erupts.
The valley vibrates.
Air fractures.
Mountains tremble.
The ground itself begins to crumble into dust under the overwhelming resonance.
The beam collapses before firing.
The Monolith Architect staggers.
Its gears are misaligned.
Its structure destabilises.
For the first time,
It is damaged.
Dai Quan lowers his hand slowly.
He does not advance.
He does not chase.
He stands.
Guarding.
Protecting the convoy behind him.
The battlefield around him is in destruction.
Shattered metal.
Frozen ground.
Distorted space.
Yet he remains still.
A single figure holding back an army.
The Ruin Monsters hesitate.
Then surge again.
Endless.
Relentless.
And Dai Quan,
Does not move.
---
High above the battlefield, Olivia stands upon the back of a vast wooden creature, her eyes wide with wonder as she observes the intricate structure beneath her feet.
The puppet is not ordinary.
It is a Lightning Eagle.
A Third Tier Wooden Puppet.
Its body is formed from refined spirit wood, every feather carved with microscopic runes, faint lightning coursing through the veins of its wings, crackling softly with contained power.
In the entire federation, only one person can refine such a puppet.
Her mother.
Ophelia.
The Spirit Wood Wizard.
There are two other Tier Three Wooden Alchemists, but their paths differ; their understanding is incomplete in this direction.
Ophelia alone created the Wooden Puppet Alchemy Path.
Olivia's spirit spreads outward carefully, observing the puppet's structure in detail.
Runes within runes.
Layers of formation hidden beneath its surface.
The flow of wood and lightning perfectly harmonised.
If it were anyone else, their perception would be blocked.
They would see nothing but fog.
But Ophelia allows her.
For her daughter alone, the structure reveals itself.
Suddenly,
Ophelia's expression changes.
Her perception stretches outward.
She senses it.
Decay.
Distortion.
Fluctuations in magic energy.
Someone is fighting.
"Olivia," she says calmly, though her tone sharpens slightly, "we are speeding up. Hold on."
Before Olivia can respond,
Vines rise from the back of the puppet.
They coil around her legs.
Her waist.
Firm.
Secure.
Another vine extends upward, forming a handle.
Olivia grips it tightly.
The Lightning Eagle spreads its wings.
Lightning gathers.
Crackling.
Then,
It moves.
A sonic boom tears through the sky as the puppet breaks the sound barrier, vanishing from its position in an instant.
---
Moments later,
It stops.
Abrupt.
Suspended in the sky above a valley.
Olivia's breath catches.
Her eyes widen.
Below,
A battlefield unfolds.
A single wizard stands against an army.
Thousands upon thousands of metal creatures surge forward relentlessly.
Ruin Monsters.
She recognises them immediately.
Ancient constructs.
Remnants of a lost civilisation whose world has been consumed by the Void Battlefield.
Once dormant.
Now awakened.
Because of magic.
Because the very structure of energy in this world was changed.
They are not mindless.
They move with purpose.
With coordination.
They ambush.
They communicate with each other.
They adapt.
But they do not communicate with wizards.
They only destroy.
Olivia watches, unable to look away.
The wizard below,
He does not retreat.
He does not advance.
He stands.
Defending.
Every attack.
Every wave.
Protecting the convoy of coaches behind him.
Her heart tightens.
The scale of power,
It is overwhelming.
---
Ophelia's gaze sharpens as she observes the battlefield.
She recognises the man instantly.
Dai Quan.
And behind him,
The convoy.
From their direction, from their path,
She understands.
He is heading toward her father-in-law.
Kaelan.
She reacts quickly.
Ophelia raises her hand.
Her arm begins to change.
Not with flame,
But with something deeper.
Her skin darkens.
Condenses.
Becoming like glowing charcoal, radiating an unbearable heat that is not fire, but the friction of life itself, accelerating beyond limits.
Cells dividing.
Energy compressing.
A seed forms in her palm.
White-hot.
Emerald.
Blazing with contained destruction.
She does not release it at full power.
She controls it.
Narrows its range.
Targets only the valley exit where the Ruin Monsters gather most densely.
Then,
She releases it.
The seed streaks downward like a beam of living light.
It strikes the ground.
And roots.
For a heartbeat,
Nothing happens.
Then,
The world erupts.
Massive trunks of Iron-Wood burst from the earth, glowing with magma-like sap flowing within them.
They grow instantly.
Violently.
The sonic boom of their expansion flattens everything within range.
Scrap-Husks are crushed.
Gear-Colossi are torn apart as the trees pierce through their bodies.
The air screams as energy is drained.
Heat.
Electricity.
Magic.
Everything is pulled into the growing forest.
The Ruin Monsters falter.
Their mana cores dim.
Their attacks weaken.
The Monolith Architect's beam collapses before forming.
The battlefield shifts completely.
The forest expands,
Then consumes itself.
Rapid carbonisation begins.
The trees blacken.
Crack.
Turn to ash.
Then solidify.
The entire area transforms.
No soil remains.
No life remains.
Only a vast expanse of petrified obsidian glass spreads across the valley, reflecting the dark orange sky above like a broken mirror.
The Ruin Monsters,
Gone.
Erased.
Only silence remains.
Dai Quan stands at the edge of the destruction.
Unmoved.
Unharmed.
The battlefield ends.