As the Castle Lords cheered and the banner of victory was firmly grasped, the surviving supernaturals of the Dark Empire realized the bitter finality of their situation. The 'Reset' had not just given the Great Aetherium more men, it had stolen the Dark Empire's very right to hope.
The roar of "Kill!!" that erupted across the central plains of the Light Empire was no longer a battle cry born of desperation, it was a hungry, collective howl of triumph.
The forces of the Great Aetherium and the combined Castle Faction surged forward with the momentum of an unstoppable landslide, their ranks tightening like a noose around the fragmented remnants of the Dark Empire.
The battlefield had become a grotesque processing plant. The battlefield's blockade areas were choked with the abandoned tools of the Dark Empire's trade: hulking alchemy puppets and sprawling legions of mindless undead.
To any traditional general, these would be a nuisance to be cleared away with artillery. But to the Castle Faction, every skeletal soldier, every shambling ghoul, and every twisted alchemy construct was a precious resource.
In the cold, mechanical logic of the GM, these were exp, the raw fuel required to shatter the limits of mortality.
In a move that would baffle any military strategist from the old world, the thunder of war suddenly died out. The magic cannons, trebuchets, and the heavy cannons of the Great Aetherium's four [Astral Cities] went silent.
This was not done as an act of mercy or a ceasefire. It was to pave the way for the troops to farm as much exp as they could. If a magic cannon blast vaporized ten thousand ghouls in a single flash, although they could save some time, it was essentially wasting exp.
The Castle Lords and Rangers, sensing that the total collapse of the enemy was imminent, issued a universal decree: Disable all war weapons. Trillions of enemies remained trapped in the encirclement, and every single one was needed to be dispatched by hand.
This was a once-in-a-generation opportunity for mass ascension. After this slaughter, thousands of survivors would possess enough exp to condense their Godheads and achieve their ultimate dream: immortality.
…
While the blades fell on the ground, the [World Chat Channel] became a digital firestorm of religious fervor. The perspective of the 'players' had shifted from the terror of war to the ecstasy of the harvest.
[Brothers, we did it! The Dark Empire is broken, and trillions of XP is just sitting there waiting for us!]
[If you want to be a God, start killing! This is the greatest XP farm in the history of the Endless Continent!]
[Praise His Majesty! Without his war order, we'd still be hiding in our castles, trying to clear some small-time regional dynasties. He didn't just give us a victory; he gave us a hope of surviving the upcoming Divine War!]
In the hearts of the Castle faction, Haru had reached a status that transcended mere leadership. He was the Uncrowned King, the Supreme Leader of their movement.
His status was so detached and absolute that even the top-level Castle Lords no longer dreamed of challenging him. To oppose Haru now wasn't just a political mistake; it was a heresy that would invite the wrath of millions of newly ascended Gods who credited him with their divinity.
…
As the afternoon sun dipped lower, a new phenomenon lit up the sky. The number of Gods within the Castle Faction had spiked violently, jumping from three million to nearly four million in less than twenty-four hours. This mass ascension created a spectacle of divine light that could be seen from the furthest corners of the continent.
However, a discrepancy was noted by the scouts. While the puppets and undead were being harvested by the billions, the hundreds of billions of human supernaturals, the dark alchemists and necromancers, were noticeably absent from the core.
They were the 'Seeds of the Empire', and they were currently 200,000 kilometers away, fleeing toward the Dark Empire's borders.
Suddenly, two million aurora-like figures rose from the battlefield. These were the Lower True Gods of the Castle Faction, newly minted Gods who were not yet strong enough for the sealed battlefield.
Still, they were more than capable of handling these mortals. They streaked across the horizon, turning the sky into a tapestry of divine fire as they moved to cut off the retreat of the fleeing 'dark seeds'.
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