Chapter 531: Chapter 44: Great Fire Layer Upon Layer
For a field staff who works at high intensity all year round, the worst thing is when you finally take a vacation, only to be involved in a crazy incident, but even worse is this incident happening at your home.
Palmer’s mood was like a roller coaster. At first, he thought about joking, saying he forgot something at the Order Bureau, and might as well go back.
But this is the Fortress of the Morning Wind, where Palmer was born and grew up, he couldn’t just walk away.
"This is definitely a conspiracy, definitely!"
Palmer threw his luggage aside; at times like this, luggage doesn’t matter. He called the few people to head towards the cliff, preparing to confront the suddenly appearing Black Armored Soldiers.
"No wonder Lebius approved my vacation so easily, he absolutely knew about these things!"
Palmer cursed continuously, then his gaze fell on Church.
"Don’t look at me, I didn’t know the Wind Source Highlands were like this." Church wasn’t lying; he truly didn’t know.
As an intelligence staff who dances on the razor’s edge, Church knew very well what can be joked about and what cannot.
He wouldn’t make the foolish mistake of concealing information. In fact, when he saw groups of Wind-Eroded Birds, Church himself was somewhat caught off guard, unable to understand the situation.
The distant Order Bureau was tranquil and peaceful, yet the Wind Source Highlands were ablaze with warfare. More bizarrely, the warfare seemed confined within the Wind Source Highlands with not a hint of information leaking out. Perhaps the upper echelons of the Order Bureau already knew but saw no necessity to spread it out, lest it causes psychological pressure on the staff.
Yes, if it’s only this level of warfare, the Clarks are completely capable of handling it themselves.
After the initial panic, everyone gradually calmed down, entering battle mode.
This world is large, so large that some places have always existed in distant stories, even until the day of your death, you may never reach them.
The vast land is fraught with continuous conflict, if what’s happening in front of you is attributed to an ordinary unexpected incident, then it’s nothing.
Just like the Sixth Group, now they are in the Narrow Countries, passionately fighting the sects of rotting corruption. Rumor has it they are no longer satisfied with slaughter in the shadows; they are now collaborating with various countries, preparing to mobilize large-scale Alchemy Armament to crush those monstrosities of flesh and blood on the front lines.
These things seem too distant, quick steps towards the cliff, as they neared the cliff, Church waved to the few people, stepping into the shadow.
"I’ll leave it to all of you; I’ll see if I can find others."
Church wasn’t suited to appear on the front line. For his actions, Bologue nodded in approval.
"What... what are you doing?"
Then Bologue noticed Aimou moving stealthily; she suddenly stopped her steps as well, turning towards a sideways cover.
"Changing clothes."
To resist the gusts of the Wind Source Highlands, Aimou donned a beige windcoat, the internal attire was pure black, the contrasting colors made her resemble a porcelain doll.
After looking Bologue up and down, Aimou’s eyes carried a hint of disdain, "In this aspect, I’m not like you guys."
Bologue usually wore the uniform of the Order Bureau, and such uniform styles filled his closet, even if he occasionally changed to new clothes due to importance, he completely forgot these in battle.
Blood and rain soaked Bologue’s clothes, appearing both helpless and carrying a fierce aura, like a gang member ready for a street fight.
"No, what I mean is, you can stand aside and watch," Bologue perceived the surrounding chaotic ethereal fluctuations, "There aren’t overly terrifying enemies right now."
"Alright, we can go now!"
As Bologue spoke, Aimou had already changed clothes... To be precise, she had taken off her coat. Her body transformed into a Steel Body, covered by the Alchemy Armament’s Second Skin, resembling a black swimsuit.
In the rain screen stirred by the storm, Aimou looked like a pitch-black silhouette, her clothes and suitcase were placed in a rain-shielded corner, Aimou silently prayed in her heart that she could find them again later.
Aimou’s mobility clearly exceeded Bologue’s expectations, barefoot, she came beside Bologue, Aimou looked up at Bologue.
Bologue could clearly see the halo in Aimou’s bright blue pupils, rotating slowly, the next second Aimou retracted her smile, sinking her shoulders, clenching her fist, and the mechanical tone of an alarm sounded.
"Enter Iron Fist Mode!"
The bright blue pupils turned into glaring gold, luminous tracks of Canyin wandered on the cold metal body, five fingers clenched tightly like iron forged into a cluster, then an increasingly clear humming sound echoed in the body, steam surged out from crevices in the back.
Aimou’s damn "Iron Fist Mode" left Bologue somewhat at a loss; after days of absence, had Aimou optimized and updated herself?
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A crisp laugh sounded, Aimou relaxed his stance, as if he had successfully pulled off a prank, "Just kidding, don’t be nervous!"
"Don’t you think this is pretty cool?"
Aimou said, raising his fists and rapidly punching at the falling raindrops.
Bologue actually pondered seriously for a few seconds and nodded, "Pretty cool, Iron Fist Mode."
These were Bologue’s heartfelt words; he thought no man could refuse something so stylish.
"What are you guys doing!"
Just as Bologue was commenting on Aimou’s posture, Palmer’s accusatory voice came from the front.
Palmer had already reached the cliff, commanding the gale, using the Wind Gun to shoot down one Wind-Eroded Bird after another, and then summoning air currents to whirl those sharp wings, slicing through the black-armored soldiers who had endured the bombardment.
In ordinary Order Bureau work, he could slack off a bit, but this time it was protecting his home, Palmer was going all out, he was slaughtering with great relish, turned his head to see Bologue and Aimou over there... Were they practicing boxing? At a time like this? Seriously?
Bologue strode forward, standing at the edge of the cliff and looking downward; the entire coastline was frozen, the black armored soldiers advanced as if walking on flat ground, even though the artillery left streaks of blood on the ice, they didn’t intend to stop, and as more and more black-armored soldiers appeared, Ether was swirling among the group.
This familiar feeling reminded Bologue of the Sixth Group, the Violence Suppression Action Group, completely composed of Condensers from the Origin School. When they united, their Ethereal Skills twisted into a terrifying force.
Now the black-armored soldiers were similar, each possessing a weak Ether reaction; this strength was even weaker than a First Stage Condenser, but as they appeared in groups, Ether reactions gathered together, countless sparks constructing a blazing fire.
Another shell landed, but this time it missed the black-armored soldiers, an invisible barrier formed above their heads, forcibly blocking the bombardment.
Ethereal Barrier.
There were enough black-armored soldiers now, their Ether joined together, constructing a defensive barrier.
Quantity triggered a qualitative change.
Bologue felt a bit of pressure; the black-armored soldiers had already shown enough threat, yet the Fortress of the Morning Wind remained silent.
The towering cliff was a natural city wall, temporarily hindering the black-armored soldiers’ advance, but given enough time, climbing up was just a matter of time, even because the Clarks had hollowed out the interior of the cliff to construct defensive facilities, these black-armored soldiers could enter the cliff through bombardment openings.
Bologue nervously looked at the Celestial Vault Tower above the storm; he believed someone must be watching the battlefield, why didn’t they move? Or were they plotting something?
"The Clarks are wary of the Angry Sea," Aimou suddenly said.
Bologue hesitated for a moment, then understood the meaning. The Clarks hid at the end of this Wind Source Highlands, adjacent to the Angry Sea. Whether traveler or fleet, few could reach here; it could be said that aside from the disputes in the Extraordinary World, no one would come here with hostility.
Yet the Clarks had built a defense line here, facing the angry sea where life has vanished.
Palmer also sensed the crisis in the situation, plunged into the cliff below, Secret Energy fully released, the battlefield’s air pressure soared, every affected black-armored soldier seemed to enter a quagmire, their movements slowed, some even forced to kneel.
Bologue didn’t have time to think about such redundant matters, seeing Palmer enter the danger zone, he couldn’t remain indifferent.
The Flame of the Cauldron started burning, the cyan flames unimpeded by wind and rain, Bologue took a step forward and leaped.
According to Bologue’s original plan, he intended to use the Flame of the Cauldron to command the rocky ground beneath him, smashing heavy falling rocks into the battlefield.
But considering this was Palmer’s home, and if command went wrong, he might inadvertently cause a geological disaster leading to the collapse of structures.
Bologue rather disliked this restrained feeling, but still summoned the Deceitful Snake Scale Liquid, which spread into hundreds of sharp blades as he plunged, slicing through wind and rain, piercing obstructive Wind-Eroded Birds, heading straight for the silent black legion.
"Palmer!"
Bologue called out to Palmer, simultaneously sending out a Silver Hand, it embedded into the side of the cliff, causing his falling speed to start to slow down.
No need for verbal communication, after many brushes with death, the two had developed perfect chemistry, Palmer understood Bologue’s intention.
Dense blades embedded into the ground, some hitting black-armored soldiers, slaying them, others bounced off armor, or embedded into the earth.
Fine silvery threads extended from the blade tips like woven webs, finally stretching to Bologue’s hand.
Bologue had now also completed the deceleration, landing steadily below the cliff, he pretended to snap his fingers casually, then the cyan flames swept along the threads and ignited true flames along the way.
Red Mercury exploded, illuminating endless flames, then Palmer summoned the gale, blowing through the flames; instantly the Deceitful Snake Scale Liquid transformed into a sea of fire, overwhelmingly pushing towards the Black Armor Legion, as if dragon breath spewing forth, melting the frozen sea together.