Chapter 1423: Don’t Waste Their Deaths
The Windkin’s Stage S elites slammed into the roc, and the fight exploded in midair. At the same time, Chris and the others crashed into the rest of the Windkin ranks.
The soulless thralls hit first.
They plunged straight into the Windkin formation like blades thrown into a crowd. Even though they’d originally been Tier 29, after being created into soulless thralls their combat power was on par with Stage S.
Chris and the others had brought their thralls with them when they left the city.
With the Windkin’s Stage S fighters tied down by the roc, the thralls were almost unstoppable. They didn’t waste time on cannon fodder—only hunted high-Tier Windkin, ripping through the backbone of their lineup.
Chris and the squad followed right behind. At Tier 27, they weren’t afraid of anything below Stage S either.
As for the rest of the Fallen Star Guard... they had to win through numbers.
Most of them had only just broken into Stage A. In raw strength, they still lagged behind the Windkin. But they had one advantage that was brutally simple:
They had enough people.
Ten thousand Fallen Star Guard plus ten thousand Flamebirds—twenty thousand versus six thousand. The numbers were overwhelming.
And unlike the Windkin, humans weren’t locked into a single element.
That diversity turned into real battlefield structure.
Front line defense. Back line firepower. Control from both flanks. And threaded through the middle, healing lights flickering nonstop.
Not Henry-level healing, but elemental healing all the same—Light-type, Nature-type, even Water-type skills that could close wounds fast and keep people on their feet. In a fight like this, it was the difference between a unit collapsing and a unit holding.
The Windkin didn’t have that.
They were all wind-type. Their skills overlapped, but they didn’t stack—no layered roles, no clean combos, no real synergy.
So even though their average strength was higher than the Fallen Star Guard’s... they still couldn’t press a real advantage.
Not with the soulless thralls and the Fallen Star Squad causing chaos in their backline.
The battlefield heated up fast, sliding into a full-on meat grinder.
The roc, backed by its Tier 35 strength, fought more than a dozen Stage S Windkin at once and still refused to give ground.
The soulless thralls rampaged through the Windkin ranks without restraint.
Chris blinked in and out of sight—every time he reappeared, a Windkin powerhouse dropped.
Sean went full Titansteel Form, piling every shield and armor skill he had onto himself until he looked like a humanoid tank. He plowed straight through the crowd, smashing bodies aside like they weighed nothing.
The rest of the squad unleashed everything they had from within Garrick’s protective barrier, pouring damage into the enemy line.
At Tier 27, with strong skills and tight coordination, their kill power was terrifying.
Windkin numbers kept shrinking.
Of course, Fallen Star City’s side was taking losses too.
The Windkin were still stronger on an individual level. Even with good coordination, once an attack hit outside what a Stage A could reasonably endure, people died.
But almost all of the casualties... were Flamebirds.
The Fallen Star Guard were Fallen Star City’s core cultivated force—too important to bleed out casually.
So under Skinny Pete’s orders, whenever an incoming hit looked like it would break through, the Flamebirds would throw themselves in the way and tank it.
By the time the fight dragged on, more than a thousand Flamebirds had already fallen...
While Fallen Star Guard deaths were only in the dozens.
Minute by minute, the Windkin were hacked down until they were close to half their original number.
That was when the Windkin elder finally understood what was happening.
At this rate, they weren’t just losing.
They were heading toward total annihilation.
He tried to break away to stabilize the line—but the roc had him locked down. He couldn’t get free.
Honestly, if he didn’t have other Stage S companions helping him, his peak Tier 34 strength wouldn’t have been enough. The roc’s pressure was crushing.
"Stop!" the Windkin elder bellowed, voice cutting over the chaos. "Let this end here—how about we call it off?!"
At his shout, the Windkin hesitated. Their attacks stuttered, and they quickly pulled back, trying to regroup.
But the Fallen Star City side acted like they hadn’t heard a thing.
The instant the Windkin paused, Chris’s forces surged harder—turning that moment of hesitation into a slaughter.
"You—!" The Windkin elder’s face twisted with rage as he tried to say more.
He didn’t get the chance.
Because the roc was already coming again, talons and wind tearing through the air, forcing him to swallow whatever he’d been about to spit out and fight for his life.
Big Mike snorted. "Idiot. You don’t get to call a timeout after you start the fight. Who the hell do you think you are?"
The moment he heard that, the Windkin elder almost choked on his own breath.
He shot Big Mike a vicious glare, his face dark as storm clouds. "Fine. This time, we Windkin take the loss. But I’ll remember you. When the Windkin army arrives, we’ll pay you back a hundredfold."
"Move!"
The elder didn’t hesitate. He turned and fled toward the horizon.
The rest of the Windkin scattered with him, retreating in a panicked wave.
"Wipe them out!" Naturally, nobody from Fallen Star City was about to let a routed enemy just fly away.
Unfortunately, the Windkin were faster than the Flamebirds. They only managed to leave a little over a hundred bodies behind before the rest vanished into the distance.
The roc was fast enough to keep pressure on them, though—forcing the Windkin to leave a few Stage S fighters behind as a rearguard.
In the end, the roc killed two of those Stage S rearguards and crippled two more.
When the fighting finally died down, Chris and the others began counting losses.
Fallen Star Guard: a little over eighty dead.
Flamebirds: over two thousand dead.
Windkin: more than three thousand killed.
They’d won—but it was an ugly win.
The Fallen Star Guard’s mood sank like a stone.
They stared at the Flamebirds lying in heaps across the ground, eyes bloodshot, throats tight.
Ever since Ethan had told each of them to choose a Flamebird as their mount, they’d cared for them with the kind of patience you usually only saved for family. Fed them. Groomed them. Talked to them. Slept beside them.
Some of them really did treat their mounts like their own kids.
And now... they were dead because they’d jumped in front of attacks meant for their riders.
How could anyone not hurt?
"Say something," Mia murmured, glancing at Chris.
"Me?" Chris pointed at himself, then shook his head. "I’m not Ethan. I’m not Miles. In a scene like this... I don’t have the words."
Mia exhaled. "Fine. I will. They need something right now—anything that keeps them from breaking."
She stepped forward until she stood in front of the Fallen Star Guard.
"I know you’re hurting," she said, voice steady. "You lost comrades today. Some were human. Some were Flamebirds. But to you... they were all family."
Heads lowered. Red eyes blinked hard. A few people clenched their jaws like they were trying to hold their emotions in by force.
Chief Captain Tyler’s fists tightened until his knuckles went white.
"We were too weak," he said hoarsely. "If we’d been stronger, we wouldn’t have lost so many Flamebirds."
A female guard wiped at her face, but the tears kept coming anyway. "Buddy died because of me. It took the hit that should’ve killed me."
"Bean did the same for me," another guard whispered, voice shaking. "It kept shielding me until it... until it couldn’t stand anymore."
Mia let them talk. Let the grief spill out instead of rotting inside.
Only when the voices finally thinned did she speak again.
"Then don’t waste their deaths."
The words hit like a slap.
People looked up.
"The Void Realm won’t pity us," Mia said. "The Outland Beasts won’t stop coming. If Fallen Star City wants to survive, then every one of us has to become stronger."
"Our Commander has dragged this city through battles worse than this." Her gaze swept across their faces. "But he can’t carry humanity on his back forever."
"You are the Fallen Star Guard. You’re supposed to become the shield—and the blade—of this city."
"So cry today if you need to." Her voice tightened at the edges. "But tomorrow, train harder. Fight harder. Live harder."
A guard suddenly shouted, forcing a grin through swollen eyes. "Don’t worry, Future Mrs. Commander! We’re not gonna fall apart that easily!"
A few people choked out rough laughs—half pain, half relief.
"Yeah!" someone else yelled. "We’re the Commander’s blade! One day we’ll make the Void Realm pay for every drop of blood spilled here!"
Mia nodded, swallowing the warmth rising in her chest.
"That’s what I wanted to hear."
And even with everything that had happened...
that stupid title—Future Mrs. Commander—still managed to make her cheeks heat up.
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