Chapter 374: Void Sanctuary

Blood splashed across the roots of towering trees. Broken bodies lay beneath the feet of two armies locked in a savage struggle.

"Phantom Archers! Bring down those Bat Riders. Don’t let them get close!"

"Bear Druids, hold the Totem Warriors and White Oxen!"

"Warroot Ancients! Keep your distance and concentrate on the Kodo Behemoths!"

General Briallen stood among the trees with a dark-green longbow in her hands. Close-fitting skirt armor outlined a lean, powerful body. Even while shouting orders, she kept drawing and releasing. Each Wind Arrow pierced several enemies before losing its force.

There were simply too many Orcs.

A Silvermoon Ranger Lord leaped from branch to branch and landed beside her, alarm plain on her face.

"General! The Wolf Riders have broken through on our right!"

Briallen lowered her bow.

She had intended to destroy a small, isolated Orc force. Its reinforcements had arrived much faster than expected. Now her own army was caught in a battle it could not leave.

She had misjudged the enemy.

But Pandora was the weaker side. Even a thirty-percent chance of success could be a chance they had to take.

After a brief silence, she drew a deep breath.

"Pass the order. Prepare to withdraw."

The Ranger stared at her.

"Our Druids and Huntresses are fighting in the middle of their formations. Withdrawing now means turning our backs on the Orcs. The losses will be terrible!"

"I know." Briallen’s expression grew heavy. "But the other choice is worse. We cannot afford to lose the Warroot Ancients."

The Ranger fell silent.

Warroot Ancients were Legendary defensive Buildings unique to the Elves. They possessed tremendous attacking power and could even leave their Domains to join an army. Their great weakness was their slow movement.

Only a mature Ancient Tree of Life could bring them into being. Every Warroot Ancient left in Pandora was a survivor from the forest’s greatest days. Once lost, it could not be replaced.

The Ranger understood the choice, however bitter it was.

"Yes, General. I’ll tell the others."

Soon, the Elven army began an orderly withdrawal. Hundreds of thousands of Bear Druids remained behind to cover it.

The Orc general burst out laughing. His mace smashed through the skull of the Druid in front of him.

"Kill them! Don’t let the wretched Elves get away!"

Without the support of their ranged troops, the formations of Druids and Huntresses began to buckle. One fighter after another fell beneath the Orc assault.

Briallen stayed where she was. With Windwalk, she could leave much faster than the troops she was trying to save.

Grief burned in her eyes as she forced herself to shoot faster. Rapid Shot and Wind Arrow worked together, sending more than ten arrows a second into the advancing ranks.

It was not enough.

Against a million Orcs, one bow could only do so much. In another ten or fifteen minutes, the more than a hundred thousand melee troops still trapped in the fighting might all be dead.

Then a Dragon’s cry rang through the sky.

Briallen tensed.

Pandora had no Dragon troops.

Through layers of branches, she caught a glimpse of an enormous shadow hovering a thousand meters above the forest. The pressure in the air kept growing.

"What is that?"

Ten kilometers ahead, a black point appeared over the densest part of the Orc army. It expanded rapidly, becoming a black hole a hundred meters across.

More than a hundred Orcs were dragged inside and torn apart at once.

Across the surrounding kilometer, troops staggered under its pull. Even Epic fighters and those above them could do little more than move slowly.

One black hole would have been dangerous enough.

Another appeared.

Then another.

Five. Ten.

Within seconds, ninety-nine black holes hung over the battlefield, covering almost the entire Orc army.

"Black Hole?" the Silvermoon Ranger whispered. "Isn’t that the Black Dragons’ signature skill?"

"No."

Briallen took an involuntary step forward, astonishment filling her eyes.

"If I’m right, this is Void Sanctuary. A Dragon King’s Mythic skill!"

A Dragon King.

Void Sanctuary.

The Elven Lords stared upward in shock.

The gulf between Legendary and Mythic was immense. Even a Legendary Nine-Star could spend a lifetime without crossing it.

The vast Bloodmaw Court had only one Mythic: Vargul, who had made his breakthrough within the past half year. Many native kingdoms had none at all.

Mythic monsters had appeared in Pandora over the years. Killing one did not guarantee a Mythic item, let alone something as precious as a Troop Soul.

"Where did a Mythic Dragon come from?" an Elven Lord murmured. "And why is it helping us?"

There could be no doubt about that last point. Every black hole remained over the Orc formations. Not one had touched the Elves.

Before anyone could answer, the battlefield changed again.

The ninety-nine black holes began to move.

An Orc Spirit Walker stood between two of them, each about a kilometer away. Their pull had slowed him, but he could still move.

Then they drifted toward him.

The opposing forces multiplied. His body jerked in place as he tried to use Shadow Dash.

He could not enter shadow space.

"No!"

The two black holes closed over him. A powerful Level-105 Epic troop was crushed to pieces between them.

The same thing was happening throughout the army.

Legendary troops could still struggle free through sheer strength, as could Epics at Level 110 or higher. The rest could only hope they were not standing in the path of a moving black hole.

Briallen seized the chance.

"All ranged troops! Fire into their formations!"

The Orcs had become living targets.

Their general roared and launched himself into the air.

"Where did this oversized lizard come from? You dare interfere with the Bloodmaw Court?"

Call it courage or a complete lack of thought—he charged all the same.

He had risen only a few hundred meters when a vast blade of sacred light appeared before him.

Heaven’s Judgment fell.

The Level-115 Beast King was cut in two. Blood scattered across the sky.

"Heaven’s Battle Array!"

Briallen recognized the blade, and her eyes lit up.

"Lord Cassian? Is that you?"

"Oh?" His voice came from above the forest. "General Briallen. What a coincidence."

After several months in Pandora, he had dealt with its foremost Ranger General before.

The title was a remnant of an older age. Pandora’s Court had been destroyed; the office no longer granted her any attribute bonuses.

Humans needed a Founding Writ to establish a Nation. For the Elves, the corresponding requirement was an Ancient Tree of Life. That was why Sylvara had been willing to give up her position as queen and become Cassian’s Hero, following him so she could care for the Tree.

Hearing his voice, Briallen felt a surge of joy.

She knew how powerful he was. With his help, they could drive back the million Orcs before them. They might even wipe out the entire force.

But another thought soon rose through her relief.

"When did Lord Cassian get a Mythic Dragon?"

She drew in a sharp breath.

"Could it be...?"