As the crimson moonlight gleamed upon the mountain of corpses, the team leaders immediately began their battlefield cleanup.
The 0-tier puppet bodies were piled together—their flesh and bones, though useless for sustenance, were valuable crafting materials. Their mutated limbs, sharp claws, and enchanted cores could be refined into weapons or fused into armor, making them prime resources for Kanoru's forces.
The 1-tier corpses, however, were treated with greater care. Their real bodies held far more value—their flesh, skin, bones, hair, and even nails were precious alchemical materials. The team leaders carefully packaged the 1-tier bodies, wrapping them in sealing cloths and storage talismans, preserving them for transport.
As for their fallen comrades, their bodies were gathered separately. No one spoke, but their movements were solemn. They drenched the bodies with flame essence oil and set them ablaze, watching the bright orange flames consume their comrades.
Kanoru stood nearby, his gaze unwavering as he watched the flames devour the fallen, ensuring that their bodies wouldn't be desecrated by the black fog, preventing them from being raised by the enemy.
---
Once the cleanup was complete, Kanoru and his force marched deeper into the forest. The crimson moonlight pierced through the dense canopy, illuminating the path ahead in faint, ominous hues. The forest's silence was broken only by the crunch of boots over broken twigs and blood-soaked leaves.
At the forest's center, they finally encountered the node.
A metallic rod, pitch black and jagged, stood embedded in the earth. It pulsed with sickly nightmare energy, emitting a thin veil of black mist that clung to the surrounding trees, slowly corrupting the forest. The trees nearby were already twisted—their branches contorted unnaturally, their bark blackened and cracked.
Kanoru approached the node rod, his eyes narrowing coldly.
Without hesitation, he grasped the rod, his hand crackling with blue wind energy, and in one swift motion, he wrenched it from the ground.
The rod snapped free, and with it, the corrupting nightmare energy instantly began to dissipate. The black fog thinned, and the twisted trees slowly ceased their unnatural contortions.
From the exposed node, massive torrents of spiritual and elemental energy spewed forth, filling the forest with pure, untamed power. The forest floor trembled slightly as the node began to stabilize, restoring the region's natural energy balance.
Kanoru gazed at the node for a moment, but his expression remained impassive.
He hadn't attacked this section of the forest for the node alone—his true goal lay deeper within the forest. But with nightfall rapidly approaching, he knew the time was no longer in his favor.
The black fog, now free of the node's containment, would spread freely with the setting sun, and with it, the dead would rise once again.
Knowing they could no longer press forward, Kanoru gave the order:
"Build the camp."
Without hesitation, his forces scattered in all directions, each group already aware of their assigned tasks. No words were necessary—they had done this many times before.
---
As the sun vanished below the horizon, the forest was cast into darkness, and the black fog seeped through the trees like a rising tide.
But in the center of the forest, a mighty wooden palisade stood firm.
The walls, hastily but skillfully constructed from felled trees and sharpened stakes, formed a formidable circular barrier. Guard towers were erected at regular intervals, each manned with crossbowmen and warlocks. Torches lined the walls, their flames flickering defiantly against the encroaching fog.
Within the fortified walls, the large camp bustled with orderly efficiency. Rows of tents were neatly arranged, and warlocks and mages patrolled the perimeter, casting warding spells to keep the black fog at bay.
In the center of the camp, within a large wooden tent, Kanoru and his commanders gathered.
Inside, a newly built wooden table stood at the center, large and sturdy, with a detailed map of the region spread across it. Various markers and figures represented the positions of their forces and enemy strongholds, meticulously arranged.
Kanoru and the key figures of his small army stood gathered around the large wooden table, their expressions sharp and calculating. The faint candlelight flickered over their faces, casting jagged shadows against the tent walls. The air was thick with tension and focus as they pored over the map spread across the table, their gazes hard and unyielding.
The map was marked with detailed outlines of the terrain—forests, plains, and gorges—scribbled with handwritten notes and hastily drawn battle markers. The blood-red ink depicting enemy-controlled territory stood out starkly against the parchment, serving as a grim reminder of the invasion's hold on their world.
Lou Chen, his arms crossed and his voice low but firm, gestured at a specific point on the map.
"The alien wind source should be here," he said, tapping his finger over the Red Tiger Forest, his eyes narrowed in certainty.
Beside him, Senna, her sharp, analytical gaze scanning the parchment, nodded. She ran her finger along the map, tracing the forested region until she reached a thin line marking the border.
"We got the map from the corpse of a spirit realm Red Tiger," she said, her voice steady but laced with a touch of weariness. "If the information is accurate, the alien wind source should be..." she paused briefly, then tapped the tip of her finger on a narrow gap. "Here, in the gorge that separates the Red Tiger Forest from the Golden Plain."
A faint sigh left Rong Chan, who had been leaning against the table with his arms folded. His eyebrows furrowed, and a shadow of doubt flickered in his eyes.
"I pray it's there," he muttered, his voice laced with frustration. "If not, this whole operation will have been a waste of our time."
From across the table, Asuna, her tone steady but tinged with defiance, glanced sharply at him.
"It's not a waste of time," she countered firmly. "We freed a node and killed three spirit realm invaders. That alone is a victory."
Her eyes hardened as she met Rong Chan's gaze, unwavering in her conviction. "Even if the alien wind source isn't there, this was no loss."
The others nodded in agreement, their eyes momentarily filled with the satisfaction of their hard-earned triumph.
After a brief silence, Hou Li, his expression clouded with unease, spoke up.
"Thirty years have passed since the invasion started..." his voice was heavy with fatigue. "And yet, we're still nowhere near close enough to winning."
He leaned against the table, his hand brushing over the scarred edge, his brows knit in frustration.
Pan Lian, her voice calm but resolute, immediately countered his pessimism.
"Don't be so grim," she said, her tone firm but soothing. "We're slowly capturing one node after another." She looked around at the others, her eyes sharp and unwavering. "And we delayed the invaders for twenty years. That's twenty years they couldn't completely change the rules of our world. That is no small feat."
But Hou Li shook his head grimly, his eyes dark with worry.
"The situation can change anytime," he muttered, his voice low and somber. "When the Bone Clown descends fully into our world, we'll be on the verge of losing this continent."
A heavy silence settled over the table.
The Bone Clown, the nightmare behind the never-ending wave of undead, was a name that carried a dreadful weight. Every night, its twisted magic raised the fallen from their graves, turning their own comrades into mindless puppets.
Yun Ming, who had been standing slightly apart from the others, suddenly placed both hands on the table. His right hand, which he had once lost in battle, was whole again, regrown by the elemental baptism he received when he advanced into the spirit realm. His fingers pressed into the wood, his eyes sharp and determined.
"But we've reclaimed most of the lost ground," he reminded them, his voice filled with unshakable resolve. "We are advancing. Inch by inch, we're pushing them back."
His tone was steady, but his knuckles whitened as he clenched the edge of the table, the weight of past sacrifices evident in his grip.
Rong Chan, his voice low but clear, added grimly, "We should all remember—there are three leaders of the Greyrose Circus." His eyes narrowed as he glanced around at the others. "According to the information we obtained from the invaders."
Hou Li, his fingers twitching slightly as he clenched his fists, nodded in agreement.
"Yes... and Bone Clown is the weakest of the three," he said softly, his voice trembling faintly. "I can't even imagine what will happen if the other two descend into our world."
A faint shiver ran down his spine as he spoke. The Bone Clown's never-ending army was horrifying enough—a relentless tide of the dead. But the thought of facing its superiors—beings even more powerful—was a nightmare he couldn't bring himself to picture.
The grim atmosphere lingered for a moment, heavy with the weight of their uncertainty, but before anyone could speak further, the tent flap suddenly parted.
A young girl, no older than fifteen, peeked inside. Her face flushed shyly, and her hands nervously clutched the edge of the flap.
"Leaders... the dinner is ready," she stammered softly. Without waiting for a reply, she quickly ducked away, vanishing from sight.
For a moment, the silence held, then Kanoru slowly straightened his posture. The weariness of battle and the gravity of their discussion still lingered in his eyes, but he let out a slow breath and turned to the others.
"Let's have dinner," he said, his voice calm but firm. "We leave for the gorge at dawn."
One by one, they began to leave the tent, their footsteps slow and heavy with exhaustion.
The dim candlelight flickered over the scarred map, illuminating the lines of territory and the battle markers, but no one glanced back.
The night draped the forest in its everlasting blood moon glow, casting a somber red hue over the newly erected palisade. The embers from the campfires flickered faintly, sputtering against the light evening breeze, while the faint sound of distant conversations and the soft clatter of cooking utensils drifted through the air. Despite the recent battle, the camp was eerily calm—a brief moment of respite amidst the relentless struggle.
Far from the fires and the warmth of his men, Kanoru sat alone on the wooden wall, his legs folded beneath him, his eyes closed in silent focus. His breathing was slow and measured, each exhale releasing the lingering fatigue from the fight. His hands rested lightly on his knees, palms upward, as he meditated in silence.
Though his body bore the wounds of battle, his spirit was stronger than ever—because yesterday, he had advanced to the Spirit Lord realm.
In his spiritual space, once a tranquil and vast expanse, now existed a storm of converging elemental power. The ethereal void pulsed with the rhythmic hum of runic energy, and before him floated 50 radiant runes—the manifestation of his elemental comprehension.
Among them were:
- 31 wind elemental runes, shimmering with a translucent blue-green glow, representing the ever-shifting and agile nature of the wind.
- 10 fire elemental runes, pulsing with a faint orange heat, each rune carrying the essence of destruction and ferocity.
- 9 water elemental runes, softly gleaming with a serene, icy glow, exuding a calm but fluid power.
Kanoru's focus remained on the wind runes, the element that had carried him the farthest. The wind was his core, the foundation of his strength, and he sought to further refine his control over it.
As he meditated, the wind elemental energy coursed through his spirit, swirling in delicate patterns, sometimes surging in fierce currents before returning to a gentle, fluid dance. Each surge brought him closer to the next level of comprehension, but whenever he felt himself nearing a bottleneck, he would momentarily shift his focus.
Instead of forcing the breakthrough, he would turn to the fire and water runes, using them as a mental reprieve. The searing heat of the fire runes burned away the stagnation clouding his thoughts, while the soothing chill of the water runes calmed his mind, allowing him to return to the wind runes with renewed clarity.
His newly attained Spirit Lord rank granted him access to Spirit Lord spells—powerful techniques meant for devastating offense, layered defense, and swift evasion. Yet, Kanoru's arsenal was lacking.
He had only one spell of that level: the Ten Sky Arrow Kill, his most recent creation. The spell was powerful—ten two-meter-long arrows, each possessing the cutting force of a sky sword and the precision of a wind arrow, capable of locking onto his target and shredding them with deadly accuracy.
But it wasn't enough.
He needed more.
Kanoru's expression remained calm, but inwardly, he felt the gap in his abilities. He could attack, but his defensive capabilities were lacking.
His mind flickered back to the fight with the Spirit Lord woman. During the battle, he had relied on his Lion Roar spell as a makeshift defense. Though intended as an offensive spell, he had infused it with double the energy, attempting to use the sonic shockwaves to disrupt and block her phantom petals.
But it hadn't been enough. The grey rose petals had pierced through the weakened shockwave barrier, cutting him and forcing him to fight through the pain.
The Lion Roar spell, despite its ferocity, was not meant for defense. It was a battle cry of destruction, not a wall of protection. And though he had other defensive spells from his earlier realm, none were worthy of advancing. They were either too frail or lacked adaptability—unworthy of his newfound power.
A faint frown creased his brow as he dismissed them from his thoughts.
Instead, his focus shifted toward his escape spell—the Sky Wing spell. With its boost of speed and sharp maneuverability, he had often used it to evade incoming attacks. It wasn't perfect, but it had served him well during countless battles.
Sky Wing was his best option. It was familiar, reliable, and only needed improvement. If he refined it further, it would become sufficient for quick evasion and allow him to survive even against Spirit Lords.
But the defensive spell still eluded him.
A thought crossed his mind.
"Tomorrow, I'm going to find the alien wind source."
A faint glimmer of anticipation flickered through his heart.
If he could reach the alien wind source, he might gain insight into the profound rules of the wind. With that, he could potentially create his own defensive spell—one infused with true alien wind energy, something that could withstand the strength of Spirit Lord spells.
The alien wind source was no ordinary elemental energy. According to the calculations of Spirit Kings, the path to reaching the limit of the Spirit King realm required the comprehension of 100 runes of a single element.
But the free-flowing elemental energy in the world could only provide up to 90 runes. The final 10 runes—the most mysterious and profound—could only be comprehended through direct interaction with alien elemental sources.
That was why Kanoru and his team had taken the immense risk of venturing into the Red Tiger Forest.
When they had found the map to the alien wind source on the corpse of a spirit realm Red Tiger, they had seized the opportunity immediately. With no time to waste, they abandoned the safety of the Faerie City, pushing into hostile territory.
Now, having freed the node and conquered the Red Tiger Forest, they were one step closer to their goal. But Kanoru knew the risk they had taken.
If there had been one more Spirit Lord invader, they might have been wiped out entirely.
He exhaled slowly, letting the thought drift away.
His fingers twitched faintly, and the runic energy around him surged, the wind runes pulsing softly in his spiritual space.
Tomorrow, they would march toward the gorge, toward the alien wind source, and perhaps... if he was fortunate enough to comprehend its rules, he would finally have the defensive spell he needed.
His eyes remained closed, his breathing slow and steady.
But deep within his spiritual space, the runes shimmered faintly, eager for the power that awaited them.