Chapter 285 Assault on Hell’s Gate - 03
The explosion ripped through the air with a deafening roar, scattering fragments of Homer's demonic form across the desolate landscape. Fiery tendrils of demonic magic attempted to pull the torn pieces back together, a grotesque dance of mending flesh and sinew.
However, Daniel, realizing the tenacity of demonic regeneration, acted swiftly. With a calculated throw, he hurled a holy flame grenade onto the scattered remains of Homer. The grenade burst into a radiant blaze, its sacred flames consuming the demonic essence and incinerating every piece of flesh that tried to reform.
The unholy shrieks of agony echoed as the demonic magic struggled against the purifying fire. Yet, the relentless holy flames devoured the remnants, leaving behind only ashes in the wake of destruction. Homer's attempt at regeneration was thwarted, and was reduced to nothing more than dispersed ashes on the wind.
The air carried the acrid scent of burning demonic residue, and a solemn silence settled over the scene. Erina, witnessing the decisive act, felt a mixture of relief and somber reflection, she never thought that her former work colleague would end up like that and she never thought that she would have to fight with him like this.
"Alright, Boss, I believe we should head quickly to the forward base," Erina stated, addressing Daniel. The medic team from the VTOL approached to assess her injuries and escort her to the infirmary onboard.
Daniel simply nodded in agreement and proceeded to follow the medic team towards the waiting VTOL.
— Meanwhile - Forward base —
At the forward base, a semblance of order had been reestablished. The once chaotic landing zone had transformed into a strategic hub, bustling with activity. Soldiers moved with purpose, fortifying defenses and setting up makeshift structures. The air, previously thick with the stench of demonic presence, now carried a sense of cautious optimism.
Medical tents were set up to tend to the wounded, their white canvases standing in stark contrast to the charred remnants of demonic incursion. Technicians scurried around, repairing damaged equipment and conducting assessments on salvaged demon remains.
Command tents, marked by the fluttering flags of the Astral Tech, stood as the nerve center of operations. Maps and plans were spread out across tables, and officers engaged in discussions, strategizing for the next phase of the operation.
The VTOLs, having completed their missions, were neatly parked in a designated area, their engines humming with an air of readiness. Supplies were being efficiently unloaded, and maintenance crews ensured the aircraft were in optimal condition for future deployments.
Penthesilea sat in the command tent amidst a myriad of reports from the various detachments she had sent out for rescue missions, perimeter scouting, and the establishment of a second base near the island bridge—an additional forward base to secure survivors and refugees who couldn't escape the demonic incursion in time.
One report from a scouting party brightened her day: news that her lord was en route, just a few districts away, expected to arrive within twenty minutes.
Suddenly, shouts erupted from the direction of the base defense perimeters, accompanied by a cacophony of gunfire, screams, and explosions.
"Report! We're under attack! The demonic horde is advancing! Numerous high-ranking demons spotted! Over!" The urgent radio report echoed from the defensive perimeters of the forward base.
In the heart of the city ruins, defenders of the forward base's defensive perimeters braced themselves as the demonic horde advanced like a relentless sea. Lucian, in his malevolent cunning, had harnessed the power of numerous demonized humans, swelling the enemy ranks.
The defenders faced an overwhelming tide, outnumbered and lacking the natural barriers that favored their counterparts at the island bridge.
Mammon's Hell Guard loomed over the demonic horde, their formidable presence creating an ominous silhouette against the backdrop of the city's devastation. The defenders, though valiant, found themselves at a disadvantage, caught in the open with limited cover to shield them from the relentless onslaught.
Explosions resonated through the city ruins as demonic creatures clashed with the defenders. The once silent landscape transformed into a battlefield, a chaotic terrain where every step forward was met with fierce resistance.
The defenders, unwavering but fatigued, fought valiantly. Their firearms discharged rounds relentlessly, and when faced with the demonized humans in close quarters, they resorted to thrusting bayonets into the pitiful souls ensnared by demonic possession.
It was a grim necessity, an act to release them from the torment of demonic influence and the shattering loss of sanity.
The air reverberated with the roar of VTOL engines as reinforcements descended upon the besieged forward base. Bullets poured down from above as the VTOLs unleashed their firepower, tearing into the demonic horde below.
Hulking power-armored soldiers landed with a resounding boom, their shock absorbers cushioning the impact from the descent of more than 10 meters. Led by Field Commander Sullivan, they swiftly integrated with the defenders, fortifying their ranks against the relentless demonic onslaught.
In tandem with the ground reinforcements, the thunderous boom of artillery echoed through the ruins as the forward base's artillery unleashed a barrage upon the demonic ranks.
Explosions erupted amid the sea of demons, diminishing their numbers and granting a temporary reprieve for the beleaguered defenders.
The combined efforts of aerial and ground reinforcements, along with the artillery's devastating strikes, began to turn the tide in favor of the defenders at the forward base.
Observing the unfolding chaos, Lucian seized the opportunity, directing the Hell Guard to launch a savage assault on the defense perimeter. The demonic onslaught intensified, focusing on those defenders who lacked the protection of power armor. The curse of Greed twisted the intentions of some unfortunate souls, driving them to cast covetous glances at their comrades' power armor.
"Take off that power armor! It's mine! It should be mine!" A defender not wearing power armor turned his gun on his comrade, causing alarm among the soldiers in armored suits. Despite the internal strife, the soldiers in power armor continued firing at the demons before them.
Recognizing the imminent threat posed by the cursed individuals, Sullivan acted decisively. With unwavering resolve, he aimed his weapon and swiftly neutralized those affected by the curse, stabilizing the defense perimeter.
"Is there anyone else!?" Sullivan roared, opening his helmet to display his fury to any remaining weak-willed defenders.
It became apparent that the curse of Greed only affected those with weaker wills. Fortunately, the defenders in this particular unit had undergone rigorous training at the Spartan camp in the base, cultivating iron wills. Aside from a few lower-ranking individuals, the majority were unaffected by the insidious curse.
Sullivan's intervention quelled the chaotic scene tainted by the curse of Greed, restoring a semblance of order to the defense perimeter.
Meanwhile, as VTOLs circled above, offering vital support to the defenders, Lucian harnessed his formidable telekinetic abilities. With a mere thought, he crushed the wing of one of the VTOLs, sending it into a chaotic spiral.
Amidst the chaos, the downed VTOL lay battered and broken in the midst of the demonic horde. The surviving pilot, fighting desperately against the encroaching demons, knew his fate was sealed.
In a final act of defiance, he activated the VTOL's reactor overload sequence, setting in motion a catastrophic chain of events.
As the demons closed in, their attention drawn to the vulnerable pilot, he met his end at the hands of the ravenous horde. However, even in death, the pilot's sacrifice became a weapon against the demonic forces. The overloaded reactor surged with energy, transforming the VTOL into a makeshift explosive.
Boooooom!
The pilot's sacrifice, though tragic, became a fleeting triumph as the explosion created a brief opening for the defenders. It was a desperate and costly maneuver, but it bought precious moments for the beleaguered defenders to regroup and fortify their positions against the relentless demonic onslaught.
As the resounding explosion echoed through the bloodied battlefield, sending shockwaves across the torn landscape. Another VTOL arrived, this time carrying Christopher Ward, the Grand Paladin, and Penthesilea.
"Hahahaha! There are a lot of demons! Today, each of us will bask in the glory!" Christopher laughed maniacally as he plunged his blessed blade into the nearest demon's heart upon landing, swiftly beheading nearby demons in a relentless onslaught.
Christopher fearlessly led his paladins into the heart of the demon horde, and his subordinates followed suit. Whether armed with guns, spears, longswords, or halberds, their weapons glowed with the blessed light of the gods, becoming highly effective tools for dispatching the demons.
Penthesilea observed the remaining wreckage of the VTOL and let out a sigh. She lamented not being fast enough to save the pilot. However, her attention then shifted to Lucian. His demonized form, with red demonic eyes fixed on the VTOL she was in.
With a fiery determination, Penthesilea grasped her trusty spear and unleashed it towards Lucian from the VTOL. The spear cut through the air with remarkable speed, its blade and pointed tip aglow in a vibrant blue, fueled by the potent surge of mana that Penthesilea channeled into the throw.
Lucian, sporting a confident smirk, attempted to thwart the incoming projectile with his telekinesis.
Booom!!
In a surprising turn of events, the empowered spear effortlessly shredded through Lucian's telekinetic defenses, as if cutting through fragile paper.
"What!? Impossible!" Lucian bellowed in disbelief.
Faced with the unexpected failure of his telekinetic shield, Lucian desperately tried to evade, but the spear abruptly altered its course, meticulously tracking his movements.
"No!!"
Pierced!!
The spear found its mark, driving through Lucian's demonic heart with unyielding force. Its relentless momentum dragged Lucian's body towards a nearby building ruin, where it forcefully impaled him. The scene unfolded as a striking manifestation of poetic justice.
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