Chapter 317 - 312: The Second Offensive

Chapter 317: Chapter 312: The Second Offensive

The din in the banquet hall was almost loud enough to tear the roof off the Lord’s Mansion.

The noble Knights of Dawn Territory had shed their blood-stained armor for casual clothes and were now carousing around the long tables.

A Knight jumped onto a table, raised his cup high, and bellowed a self-composed battle song, drawing a round of cheers.

"For Grey Marsh Territory! For the Red Leaf Wall!"

"To Baron Velin! Those long-legged octopuses are probably hiding and crying in some ocean trench right now!"

Baron Kroo, his face flushed red, pushed past a drunken colleague. He carried a full goblet of wine as he approached the man of the hour.

Velin sat alone at a small table. There was no wine cup, only a stack of parchment covered in numbers.

It was the casualty and supply consumption report just delivered by the quartermaster. The light from the oil lamp cast a shadow on the side of his face, making him seem completely out of place amidst the surrounding revelry.

"Your Lordship!" Kroo’s voice was booming, successfully drawing the attention of those nearby.

"This cup, I must offer to you! To be honest, when those monsters broke through the first wall, I thought I was a goner!"

Velin looked up from the parchment, his eyes calm and placid.

He didn’t take Kroo’s cup. Instead, he pushed a list from his side toward him.

"Baron Kroo, your knightly guard: three dead, seven heavily wounded. Here is the list."

Baron Kroo’s arm, holding the cup, froze in mid-air. The wine in the cup rippled.

The drunken haze and smile vanished from his face, and the surrounding noise seemed to have been sucked out of the room.

He slowly set down his wine cup and picked up the light sheet of parchment. Every name on it had once been a living, breathing face.

"...Of course," his voice was much drier now. "I’ll handle the pensions."

He watched as Velin lowered his head again, marking something on another list with a charcoal pencil. That business-like demeanor made him feel more ashamed than any reprimand could have.

The joy of the recent victory now tasted of nothing but bitterness.

Diana walked over, the firelight reflecting off her Scale Armor.

"They just need to blow off some steam."

She looked at the nobles, who were now at a loss, then back at Velin. "You don’t have to be like this."

"This wasn’t a victory, Diana." Velin withdrew his gaze. "This was just the whistle signaling the end of the first round."

"Unas escaped, and he took most of his main force with him. Do you think a gambler who’s lost thirty percent of his chips would just walk away from the table? Especially when there’s an Original Blood Crystal mine on it."

Diana looked at Velin and fell silent.

"He won’t be a threat in the short term," she argued. "We have time to repair our defenses."

"He won’t stumble in the same place twice." Velin picked up a dinner roll. "A gambler who’s been hit hard won’t keep betting on the same spot. He’ll change his game, maybe to something we’d never expect."

...

In an undersea abyss, the temporary camp of the Bonebreak Clan.

Here, there were no victorious cheers from Mi Port, only the moans of the wounded and the mournful sound of water flowing over rock.

A shaman was pounding glowing seaweed into a paste, applying it to a young Warrior’s dissolving symbiotic shell.

The Warrior twitched in agony, incomprehensible gurgles escaping his mouth.

Unas stood in the center of the camp. Scout Captain Cash and several other Centurions stood before him, all with their heads bowed, not daring to look him in the eye.

"Chief, the losses have been tallied," a Centurion reported in a low voice. "Our casualties are heavy. Among our clan members, nearly a hundred are lightly injured, and over twenty are heavily wounded."

"The siege unit is in even worse shape. Nearly a third of the Level 3 Sea Beasts were killed, and even the only Level 4 Sea Beast that joined the battle is now severely injured. It will need a long time to recuperate and recover."

"That land-dwelling lord... he calculated everything from the very beginning," another added. "We never should have attacked that sea fortress. It was a trap."

SNAP.

Unas stared at his subordinates.

"I underestimated the lord here."

He didn’t deliberately lower his voice. Many of the clansmen stopped what they were doing and looked toward their chief.

"I thought strength could crush his ridiculous schemes." Unas’s voice held no anger, only a heavy calm. "But he used my arrogance to teach us all a lesson."

"We have no advantage fighting on the surface or in the shallows." Unas surveyed the battered camp around them.

"More importantly, our reserves of Original Blood Crystals are running low. We can’t afford another war of attrition like this. Raising Sea Beasts, healing the wounded, nurturing the next generation... every one of these things is draining the clan’s foundation."

He glanced around at the confused Centurions before him.

"We must drag them onto a battlefield where we have the advantage."

"But Chief," a Centurion asked, confused, "how could those land-dwellers possibly come down to the deep sea to fight us willingly?"

"They will." Unas’s voice became low and dangerous.

"Here! Directly beneath that city! The mine!"

The Centurions looked up, understanding dawning in their eyes.

"We’ll dig a tunnel straight to their mine. When their most precious treasure is exposed before us, they will have no choice but to come down." Unas pointed to a new mark on the map, the predatory glint returning to his eyes.

"Relay my orders! All Warriors, assemble our strongest Rock-Breaking Giant Crabs! We will abandon the surface. From beneath the deep sea, with claw and flesh, we will dig straight through the earth’s layers and rip his heart out!"

The next day, Minas Tirith returned to a superficial calm.

Workers repaired the damaged dikes, and soldiers cleaned the battlefield.

Late that night, the oil lamp in Velin’s laboratory was still lit.

He was engrossed in a huge blueprint, which was a preliminary evaluation report on the symbiotic armor.

He unconsciously pressed his fingers to his temples, easing the fatigue from long hours of work.

Just then, a pulse of Divine Power washed over him, breaking his train of thought.

[Father...]

It was Sarah’s voice, ringing directly in his mind, tinged with anxiety.

[Abnormal vibrations detected. Underground... something is digging through the seabed toward the vicinity of Warehouse 125 in Mining Area Three.]

Velin sank his Spiritual Power into the vast hive network.

[Digging?] he asked. [Is it tectonic activity?]

[No.]

Sarah’s message was certain. [The sound is very deep, and slow. It’s directly beneath the mine, separated by the thick seabed.]

[One scrape... and then another... It’s like something is using its claws... to scrape stone. The scale is massive.]

Their footsteps echoed in the empty tunnel.

On both sides of the tunnel, several Soldier Ants stood guard, motionless as statues, blending into the rock walls in the gloom.

As Velin passed, these silent guards merely swiveled their compound eyes, their scythe-like forelimbs remaining in a state of alert, making no move to stop him.

Velin looked straight ahead, walking directly toward Mining Area Three.

A massive vein of Original Blood Crystal was embedded in the rock, its faint red glow bathing the entire cavern and turning it into a magnificent world.

Velin walked up to a huge crystal wall, reached out, and pressed his palm flat against the cool surface of the crystal before closing his eyes.

Tristan stood behind him, watching his actions with confusion.

In the depths of his consciousness, Velin connected to Sarah—the one most sensitive to the pulse of the earth—through the [Mind Terminal].

A faint, continuous vibration.

It came from deep within the rock strata, captured and amplified by Sarah, then converted into a perception Velin could understand.

It wasn’t the violent shaking of an earthquake, but a dull, rhythmic scraping sound.

SCRAPE... SCRAPE...

The sound was rhythmic, too regular to be a natural phenomenon. It was more like some kind of... construction work.

Velin’s eyes snapped open, the faint red glow of the Original Blood Crystal reflected in his pupils.

Tristan, who had followed close behind, also cocked his ear to listen, but he heard nothing.

"My lord, did you find something?"

Velin turned to Tristan.

"It seems the Bonebreak Clan’s second wave of attack is coming."

He averted his gaze and walked over to the massive, priceless wall of Original Blood Crystal. He reached out and tapped his knuckles lightly against the cool crystal surface.

"They’re coming for this."