Chapter 1699 Citadel Battle 3



The following day, the orcs' invasion intensified. Thousands of their metal rafts now crossed the lava at a relentless pace, each wave coming mere hours after the last. The spectacle of their force seemed endless and carried a chilling air of determination.

In these desperate circumstances, Commander Sheperd was forced to make a difficult decision. Though the citadel's energy reserves would provide a potent weapon, he was committed to preserving them until the final days of the siege. Instead, he depended on the might of his Full Moon Magus.

There were eight of them, each with a power that rivaled the celestial bodies they were named after. Among them was Magus Kenzo, a specialist in shadow magic, whose silent steps and deadly spells struck fear into the hearts of enemies. Magus Blane, a formidable combat magus, held his ground as a duelist capable of holding off dozens of orcs alone. Then there was Magus Yurek, the elderly sage who had arrived with Emery.

The final four were the Captains of the citadel's four gates - trusted leaders whose courage and prowess made them the citadel's bulwark against the orcish onslaught.

Each of these gate Captains was capable of casting earth-shattering tier 7 spells. As they took their positions, the tension in the citadel thickened, underscoring the gravity of the impending battle.

Magus Ignis - A master of fire magic, His signature Tier 7 spell, [Inferno Comet], saw him summon a colossal meteor of pure flame, hurling it at his foes to scorch the battlefield and turn the strongest of orcs into ashes.

Magus Elara - commanded the forces of lightning with terrifying precision. Her Tier 7 spell, [Thunder' Wrath], sent devastating bolts of lightning cascading down upon the orcs, each one a thunderous echo of divine retribution.

Magus Zephyr - Master of wind magic, was known for his grace and subtlety. However, there was nothing subtle about his Tier 7 spell, [Tempest Cyclone]. It conjured a towering vortex of wind that swept through orc ranks, hurling them into the air and sowing chaos amidst their formation.

Magus Eira - Eira's control over ice magic was unrivaled. With her Tier 7 spell, [Glacial Torrent], she could create massive waves of ice, instantly freezing everything in its path and locking her enemies in a bitter, icy stasis.

Together, these four magi were the vanguards of the citadel, their elemental forces forming an awe-inspiring spectacle against the ominous orcish tide.

Each spell these magus unfurled claimed the lives of hundreds of orcs in one fell swoop. Their magic was far more potent than the citadel's defensive turrets or its formidable barriers. They were powerhouses, irreplaceable forces that outclassed mechanical defense in both firepower and intimidation.

Yet, even these exceptional magus had their limitations. Unlike the energy-dependent turrets, they were bounded by their spirit pool – a reservoir of spiritual energy that fueled their spells. Powerful spells such as their Tier 7 abilities exacted a significant toll, draining their spirit pool at an alarming rate.

Master Flemming, had devised a solution to mitigate this issue. She had allocated spirit regeneration pills capable of replenishing the spirit pool and easing the consumption of spirit force for about an hour per pill. However, the pills were not a solution without their own complications as their number was limited.

In light of this, the ensuing days transformed into a grueling test of endurance. The magus had to carefully measure their use of spells, gauging when to unleash their formidable Tier 7 abilities and when to conserve energy. Their battles took on a rhythmic flow as they rotated, each spell being cast only when absolutely necessary.

Despite their best efforts, the clock was against them. After two painstaking days of diligent conservation and tactical spell use, the stash of spirit regeneration pills finally ran out.

The situation at the citadel was becoming increasingly dire. Orcs amassed around the perimeter of the fortress, their grotesque forms swarming over the walls and beating against the gates. Their number was too vast, their assault too relentless. The citadel was on the brink of a siege.

In a desperate attempt to repel the orcish horde, the elderly Magus Yurek mustered all his strength. He invoked his most formidable spell, the 'Citadel of Earth'. It was a power that reshaped the landscape itself, pushing against the hordes and forcing thousands of orcs into the fiery embrace of the surrounding lava. In a single act, Yurek decimated tens of thousands of orcs. However, the strain of such an intense incantation took its toll on the elderly Magus. His body could not withstand the exhaustion that ensued, and he collapsed, falling into unconsciousness.

The spell's cataclysmic power seemed to quell the orcish threat for the moment. As the dust settled, and the lava returned to a simmer, it was apparent there were no more orcs left standing on the barren land. The rivers of molten rock had swallowed the ones daring to cross, leaving no signs of the massive hordes that had attempted to lay siege to the citadel.

"We did it!! yes!!"

A wave of relief and triumph surged through the magus. Their faces lit up, their lips curved into smiles, and cheers of victory echoed across the citadel. The magus released their pent-up anxieties in heartening roars, their voices blending with the whistling winds.

However, their fleeting moment of victory was brutally interrupted, their smiles evaporating as rapidly as they had formed as they beheld a new, more formidable threat on the horizon.

The skies above the smoky battlefield seemed to darken as a veritable sea of figures emerged. This wasn't just another horde; this was an elite force of Uruk-hai. Tens of thousands strong, they marched in unnerving unison toward the riverbank. Each Uruk was armored in menacing dark iron, their silhouettes rendering a foreboding sight against the smoky backdrop.

Commanding this formidable force were several dozen dark elves, led by one scarred face Khan. This ominous assembly could signify only one thing: the true battle was about to unfold.

While chaos reigned outside the citadel, Emery was in the secured room, relentlessly training under Master Flemming's tutelage. His focus was on handling the spirit souls. The process was meticulous and challenging, demanding three full days of practice. After many trials and errors, he finally mastered the intricate process.

Observing Emery's progress, Master Flemming expressed her satisfaction with a rare hint of a smile on her stern face. "You are ready," she announced, a statement filled with assurance and expectancy.

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