The Exalt Cultivation Fantasy

Act 4: Fallen Heaven - Chapter 704: The Final Night Begins

Act 4: Fallen Heaven - Chapter 704: The Final Night Begins

A few minutes remained until the final night began. Based on what he understood, the last week would be the worst, especially for anyone outside the semi-intact fortresses that contained remnants of its defensive functions. Heck, their defenses for the past year had been rough if not for Auren's formations keeping a powerful barrier in place, but even that might not help in these last seven days, especially because of their presence. Oscar watched the beasts prowl in a hunting stance, their heads hunching with sharp gazes toward the entrance, pacing side to side as if eagerly waiting for the night. The accursed were drawn to life, and the addition of these beasts, while bolstering their forces, also made their outpost far more enticing to the accursed.

'The worst will come after.' Oscar readjusted his helmet, tightening it. What he feared most was not the accursed or the final night but the key battle that would be waged inside the dark tower. A part of him had a feeling. Perhaps it might be a mercy, an act of grace, for some to die here so as to avoid a worse fate fighting his war. Sighing, he watched the burning strip of cloth slowly fizzle out into a wisp of black smoke, the last bits of thread consumed by the slow flame and turned into embers. The time was up.

Unlike the previous nights, the ten orbs blackened, no longer lending the slightest bit of respite in the false moonlight they showered the eleventh land in for the whole year. And the stars refused to reveal themselves, their glimmering comfort lost behind the blanket of darkness that permeated even the plains below. The very warmth of his blood seemed to chill instantly, and it seemed his forces were affected by the sudden shift. Quickly, the braziers on the walls and the ground below blazed brightly. However, short breaths and hushed whispers still ran amok, the topic focusing on the unsettling silence.

Usually, the nights started with the screams, the screeching and wailing of the accursed that emerged from who-knows-where. But tonight, the plains were eerily silent. Oscar knew it couldn't go on like this, or else fear would take root inside them. Standing up and climbing up the inner wall, he raised Volten's sword high and poured in his Eirin. Light poured from the blade that sang a clear ring, providing comfort from the darkness and the cursed silence. Everyone's eyes turned to him, and they gave a resounding shout of conviction. At that moment, as if waiting for their cheers, the accursed's deathly wails countered, inhuman cries of anguish and fear trembling the earth beneath.

"Lights!" Next to Oscar, Serit shouted, gesturing to the ones standing on the walls. Avila and several Light-element Exalts fired several illuminating spells that split and scattered like fireworks, each mote bright enough to fill an entire room. Oscar narrowed his eyes and gripped his shield as Serit leaned forward in disbelief. He mumbled, "What the hell...."

Indeed, it was the picture of hell itself. Oscar was relieved that the people below didn't have the vantage point for it. A swarm of accursed, denser than ever before, as many as the blades of grass in the plains, snarled at the falling bits of light, flailing their pale arms to extinguish them. But that was not the worst part. He tried to count them but couldn't bear to keep counting. Many hulking giants, the abominations of combined accursed, dragged their heavy bodies toward the outpost. Unlike before, when dozens of them spread over the twelve hours of darkness, hundreds now stood in the first minute of the final night.

"First round!" Avila led their ranged efforts, screaming at the top of her lungs. On the top of each watchtower, a cannon was pushed into place, the barrel rotating into position and aiming high. Hector and Auren had finished the long work on the key weapons and spared a few days to complete these cannons. Avila nocked her bow back, melding her bow anima into it. A spear of light attached to the string in her fingertips. "Fire!"

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"Firing!" Hector pushed a lever on the side of the war machine. Patterns and lines started to glow from the corners, spreading and ending on the cannon. Wisps of Ein swirled around the tip of the cannon, leaving a trail deep down the shaft as a high-pitched whine intensified in volume. At its breaking point, when the sound went silent, the cannon roared as a dense beam of Ein swept across and pierced through the wriggling mass of accursed on the bridge and beyond. Hector's beady eyes shone in clear delight. "The Gravitaram is incredible! I really wish I could have met the creator."

Oscar sensed the other three Gravitarams firing at the other three entrances. The dial on the Ein gauge on the back slowly went down, indicating the loss of Ein. Any accursed coming close to the concentrated beam of Ein was vaporized back into the dust from which they came, only a faint wail echoing after their demise. After a few minutes, the Gravitarams spluttered and fizzled out, the beam waning into a thin thread before vanishing into thin air. They required a few hours before the Ein charged back up and the cores inside had reset. Now, it came down to them.

"Defense! Charge!" Oscar shouted. Humans and beasts marched forward and let out a warcry as they clashed against the accursed. They couldn't go in too deep, or else the short retreats for the Gravitarams to fire would be too troublesome. Several accursed climbed the walls, branching out like fingers from an outstretched hand that sought to clench down on the barrier. He looked at the terrifying mass of accursed clinging to the barrier and climbing higher and shouted to the flying beasts in the back, "Ruvin! Go!"

Ruvin cawed and flew out with the other winged beasts, slicing their wings on the climbing accursed to knock them off, spreading feathers that cut and severed the pale limbs. But they were too many, like ants swarming a bountiful harvest. Oscar motioned for the ranged Exalts on the inner walls to strike, hundreds of spells striking the accursed, keeping the barrier secure. There was no room to breathe. Dozens of abominations trampled ahead, thrashing a few of the defenders back. Santen and the others on Oscar's side of the walls rushed out, halting the abominations from delving deeper into their ranks as a few slipped in and carried out the wounded.

"My Lord!" Fenu rushed over from another entrance, bleeding from several injuries. In a rushed tone, he gasped, "There are too many abominations, and more are pouring in. Luckily, no one died yet, but we're at a standstill."

That didn't sound good. A standstill would have been perfect if not for the endless accursed rushing from behind while their numbers were limited. He needed time for the right intervals for the cannons to fire, the time for the Gravitarams to charge up, and time for his Eirin to recover. Gritting his teeth, Oscar clasped Hector's shoulder and asked, "Are they ready?"

"I thought we wanted to wait," Hector grumbled, but his expression darkened at the accursed outside.

Oscar shook his head. "No time. Release the Champions."