Chapter 106
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 106
Chapter Title: Empire of the Forest (4)
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'Damn, the sea is needlessly vast.'
Millein let out a sigh as he gazed at the rippling blue expanse.
He was a pure-blood elf warrior assigned to the Elf Empire's 1st Legion—the unit currently advancing to conquer the human kingdom on the island across the strait.
Elves were weak to the sea. No, it went beyond mere weakness; even after living for centuries, only a scant few had ever laid eyes on the ocean itself.
Before encountering their Deity, they had been a reclusive race, content to guard their ancestral Great Forest.
But that didn't make expeditions across the sea impossible.
The Vanest Kingdom, now under their dominion, was a nation with a thriving maritime trade.
With access to vast numbers of troops and ships from there, the elves pressed forward—armed with the miraculous new technology granted by their Deity, a fusion of mana, spirits, and machinery. They seized conquest after conquest with advanced techniques and overwhelming might.
"Transport duty is still a vital mission in its own right. Succeed without a hitch, and you'll get a proper reward. I'll put in a good word for you there."
"W-We trust only in you, Overseer!"
The troops from the Vanest Kingdom forced awkward smiles at Millein's words, glancing nervously at one another.
The elves' aggressive expansionism—honed ruthlessly within the Great Forest—was the very essence of the Elf Empire's identity, rooted in their Deity's will.
Even as the 2nd Legion clashed with the ants, other elven legions struck out in all directions, endlessly claiming new territories and colonies.
There was little worry of losing control over those conquests under normal circumstances.
The reinforcement rituals and implants—powered by mana stones and engraved spells—that Millein himself had undergone didn't just grant greater strength to the recipients. In emergencies, they could seize control entirely.
Knowing this full well, countless people from the conquered lands still flocked voluntarily to join the Elf Empire's armies, lured by the promise of power.
"If you rack up merits here, every soul from the Vanest Kingdom could rise to second-class citizenship. Imagine how your kin back home will praise and envy you then."
Millein grinned wickedly at the fawning troops who bowed and scraped at his every word.
Reinforcement rituals alone weren't enough to control the conquered populace. As their Deity had taught, pitting them against one another in competition made governance effortless.
From slaves being exploited, they vied to become second-class citizens who lorded over other slaves—serving as the vanguard in the Elf Empire's armies, toppling new slaves and territories alike.
'The great empire will rule this world. And at its pinnacle... us pure-bloods.'
All this power, authority, status—it was unimaginable back when he rotted away as a mere forest warden in the Great Forest.
He offered sincere gratitude to the mighty World Tree spirit that had awakened his eyes... and to the Central Council that sparked the first revolution.
"Overseer! The detection spells are picking something up!"
But before Millein's transport fleet could reach the coastline, alarms blared across the coastal waters.
"What in the world?!"
He rushed onto the deck and peered where the mage pointed.
There, something enormous had breached the surface, exposing part of its body.
And there were dozens of such behemoths.
"We're surrounded. They rose all at once from below the surface."
"No way those are..."
Millein's eyes widened in horror.
But the leviathans that surged up in unison gave no time for response. Their dorsal carapaces split open, launching swarms of aerial forces—including hornet ants—skyward.
"Monsters!"
In an instant, battle erupted over the sea between the ants and the fleet.
Millein grabbed his bow, loosing mana-infused arrows in defiance, but even as one pierced and burst a hornet ant midair, dozens more were already dive-bombing the transports amid the roar of wings.
[Asmodra deems the enemy's combat prowess weak]
"Looks like the main force is all Vanest Kingdom natives. The elf-looking ones? Just one per ship, from what I can tell."
Asmodra eyed the transports suspiciously. They resorted to crude spells and arrows—nothing like the diverse, potent tech the elves wielded on the Lukadia Empire's southern front.
Seira saw through it: most of the fleet's backbone consisted of copper-skinned Vanest Kingdom troops, not the elven main force.
"A perfect chance to give those elves—distracted elsewhere while facing Belzahars—a proper thrashing."
Seira took to the skies herself.
Grabbing one hornet ant's leg, she soared upward in a flash, landing on the deck amid gasps of horror.
"K-Kill her!"
The panicked foes drew weapons and charged.
All bore mana stones and engravings somewhere on their bodies—elite subordinates of an irredeemable enemy Deity.
Her calculations complete, Seira swept her staff horizontally and unleashed a barrage of spells in rapid succession.
The attackers—transcending human limits—were swept away in one blow. The deck was left utterly barren.
"Could they be... trying to cross the sea and raid the Vanest Kingdom?"
The sole survivor, barely shielded by his robe's barrier, was Millein.
Standing amid the splintered wreckage, he gaped at Seira before him—and the teeming ants behind her.
The transport fleet had long since crumbled into chaos.
The ants' massacre filled the air with screams, blood staining the blue waves red before dissolving into nothingness.
'Did they not hear how the Lukadia Empire staggered? Or did they know and grow complacent?'
Seira frowned at the flustered Millein.
She didn't fully grasp the elves yet—especially their recent drastic shift in temperament.
But one thing she knew: their arrogance was profound, woven into their very creed of rule.
"Don't you think it's too radical... too precarious? Dominion forged by force crumbles before greater power."
"Y-You dare speak?!"
Her mask parted at the mouth, revealing pale skin and crimson lips as Seira spoke.
Millein faltered. For a supposed abomination, her voice was hauntingly beautiful.
"Flawed? Precarious? That's for short-lived vermin like you. We endure centuries. Do you truly think our world will fall before yours?"
"Lifespan means little. Lengthy or not, death claims all."
"Shut your mouth, you foul demon!"
Millein bellowed, slyly nocking a special arrow from his quiver. It flew wreathed in blue light like a bolt of lightning.
A metal arrow from tip to fletching.
Empowered first by the mana stone core embedded in his flesh, then amplified by his mechanical bow, it could pierce and shatter boulders in one strike.
"Gahk..."
But Seira conjured twin magic circles, deflecting it perfectly.
The first blocked the arrow; the second repurposed its energy into a retaliatory shot that pierced Millein's chest in an instant.
"Useful."
Seira smirked as he collapsed, half his torso blasted away.
Absorbing and evolving techniques from Arkania Zero wasn't just for the ants.
[Invasion swarm landing confirmed. Asmodra is quite pleased with Seira's exploits]
They smashed the enemy transports and landed the ground forces on the coastline as planned.
A resounding victory from Asmodra's view—especially Seira crushing those detestable elves.
She even freed the surviving slaves from the wrecks, but Asmodra couldn't care less.
[Asmodra hopes for equal feats from the main force]
Meanwhile, the ants renewed their assault on the Elf Empire's 2nd Legion in southern Lukadia—still locked in a brutal tug-of-war.
"They're bombarding the barriers again, gearing up for close-quarters melee."
"Damn it. Letting them close in always costs us."
Belphein clicked his tongue at the approaching ants.
Confidence brimmed, yet the ants' specialty—brutal close combat—was beyond matching.
They had fought that way since birth.
With it, they'd already expelled two Deities and claimed vast lands.
No matter how many soldiers and slave troops they conscripted from conquests, no matter the tech poured into strengthening them, they couldn't overwhelm the ants.
"The Winged Squadron's key. We seize the skies, pin those lumbering brutes from above."
"Leave it to us."
In Belphein's eyes, only the Winged Squadron—capable of unchallenged aerial strikes—could counter that.
Aware the ants' anti-air was still dismal, he planned victory through air dominance.
"...Just don't get cocky and reckless out there, Silian."
He warned the beaming young elf woman in her combat suit.
Tall and capable, she was his niece—though her thrill-seeking was a liability.
"Got it. Max range sniping, bombs for the big ones."
She waved him off, proudly displaying her arsenal.
'If she falls, the whole Winged Squadron's done for anyway.'
Belphein said no more.
Silian was a veteran of the original Winged Squadron—a stalwart warrior who had soared through the skies, claiming glory during the revolution against the elder council.
"Alright, everyone—let's go!"
Led by Silian, scores of elves donned gliders and took to the air.
Their flight was free and swift, powered by wind spirit reservoirs that stored and manipulated gusts at will.
An elven exclusive, and in every conquest war thus far, no foe had challenged the Winged Squadron.
'They can't touch us in the sky.'
Goggles on, Silian grinned and nocked an arrow.
Even their ground-pounding sniping from above met futile barrier raises or unreachable shots.
"Gone again!? Those flying bastards! They were fun!"
"Still no sign. After we wiped them last time, they won't dare!"
She circled lazily, loosing arrows earthward with glee.
Only the ants had dared aerial scraps—and lost decisively to superior range and mobility.
"Silian! Above!"
"...Huh?"
But then, a sudden shadow darkened her view. Startled, she tilted her head skyward.
'When did they...?'
Two pairs of massive, flapping wings—one large, one small, of differing materials—hovered precisely overhead.
The ant moth's crimson eyes gleamed through its head armor slits, its spear-like maw poised.