Chapter 263: The Soul Harvest Crusade
Syra watched the mist settle inside the upper tank. The gauge on Rubedo’s monitor barely registered the addition. Another Tarnstead soldier crumbled into dust on the floor of the vault.
"The yield is dropping," Syra noted, stepping over the remains. "The machine requires density. These common fighters lack the life force to sustain a high energy output. We are burning through them too fast for minimal gain. We need concentrated mana to fuel the recovery."
Rubedo processed the telemetry from the Bastion. The rapid evolution of Krug demanded a massive, continuous influx of pure soul-mass. Draining average infantrymen was incredibly inefficient.
He pulled up the sprawling map of the Tarnstead coalition on his primary monitor, studying the interconnected territories leading toward the capital.
"Then we stop pulling weeds and start harvesting the roots," Rubedo announced. He opened a direct channel to the leadership. "Krax, Gulag. Gather all the commanders and generals of the vanguard army. Mobilize the army. Divide the infantry into distinct battalions. You are leading them out of the base."
Down in the courtyard, Krax paused his weapon drills, lowering his greataxe. Gulag dropped a bundle of iron chains onto the stone tiles.
"We are marching?" Krax asked, a wide grin spreading across his face.
"We are conquering," Rubedo corrected. "But the doctrine changes. Common foot soldiers yield nothing of value to the machine. When you breach the neighboring kingdoms, slaughter the weak. Break their frontlines and butcher their standard infantry. You will only capture their officers, their royal mages, and their lords. Drag the strong back to the vault alive."
Hawl blurred into visibility near the main gates. He adjusted his gauntlets. "What about the cities themselves?"
"Leave the civilians entirely untouched," Rubedo instructed. "Our war is exclusively with their military and their rulers. If they do not hold a weapon or a royal title, they are ignored. Plant our banner in every city you break. We will consume their territories one by one and pave a direct road to the Tarnstead capital."
Iron-Scale walked out onto the balcony overlooking the courtyard. The emerald wind still violently rushed around his arms, a residual effect of the massive energy transfer. "And the border territory that provided our maps?"
"Spare them," Rubedo said, tracing the designated safe route on his digital display. "That region remains our undisputed buffer. Use their roads to bypass the outer defenses, then scatter your battalions across the inner coalition. Take their land and harvest their strongest fighters."
Krax roared an order across the plaza. The army immediately shifted from a defensive garrison into an offensive war machine. Thousands of troops flooded the courtyard, abandoning their reconstruction efforts to form up behind their respective generals. Heavy munitions were loaded into the transport wagons.
Krax hefted his greataxe over his shoulder, leading the first massive column of soldiers out through the gates and into the tall grass of the plains.
The commanders formed several battalions and went into different directions.
Torix scaled the vertical rock face flanking the valley, pulling a thread of monomolecular silk from his wrist mounts. He anchored the line against a boulder, stretching it taut across the primary escape route of the Tarnstead military encampment.
Down below, thousands of soldiers slept in canvas tents, entirely unaware that their perimeter had just become a lethal cage.
"The southern pass is sealed," Torix projected through the local network, testing the tension of the wire with his finger. "The trap is set."
High above the cloud cover, Niha tucked her wings and initiated her dive. As she accelerated toward the valley floor, the metal talons strapped to her boots fractured the ambient light.
She vanished completely from the visible spectrum. She did not slow down as she approached the sprawling camp. Instead, she angled her descent directly over the large command pavilions in the center.
Niha broke the sound barrier just fifty feet above the tents.
A sonic boom detonated with the force of a thunderclap. The acoustic pressure shredded the command pavilions and violently ruptured the eardrums of every sleeping officer inside. The shockwave flattened the central campfires and threw the night guards off their feet.
Chaos consumed the encampment instantly. Deafened officers stumbled out of the ruined tents, clutching their bleeding ears.
The standard foot soldiers panicked. Believing they were under massive magical bombardment, hundreds of infantrymen grabbed their weapons and sprinted frantically toward the dark valley exits to escape the slaughter.
They ran straight into Torix’s web.
The monomolecular silk did not snap. As the front line of soldiers hit the invisible tripwires, their forward momentum drove the razor-sharp threads completely through their steel armor and flesh.
The fleeing infantrymen were cleanly sheared apart before they even realized what had killed them. Bodies piled up at the chokepoints, completely blocking the exits while the rest of the terrified camp scrambled to find another way out.
Zirk plummeted into the center of the frantic camp, his boots cracking the hard earth as he landed right next to the ruined pavilions. He drew his four short-swords in unison. The moment the steel cleared the scabbards, he channeled his energy into the metal.
The air around him warped and ignited. The blades superheated the surrounding oxygen into searing plasma.
Zirk stepped forward, swinging the glowing swords in wide arcs to create a literal cage of fire around the surviving command staff. The intense heat melted the weapons of any soldier foolish enough to step too close, leaving the high-value officers boxed in and trembling.
"Move them toward the center," Zirk said, his voice entirely calm despite the roaring plasma. He took another step forward, forcing the terrified officers to back away from the heat and cluster together in the middle of the ruined camp.
Torix descended from the rock face and approached the trapped group. He swapped his wrist mounts from the lethal wire to a heavy, binding silk. He sprayed the thick webbing over the huddle of deafened officers, swiftly cocooning them from the neck down.
"Ten high-grade targets secured," Torix announced, hauling one of the squirming cocoons over his shoulder. "Bring the transport wagons down. The Sovereign needs them alive."
