Chapter 472: Deployment

On the Noren workshops’ side, the steel fortress continued to “grow.”

This was not a figure of speech—it was a literal description.

Under the continuous efforts of hundreds of alchemy wizards, the fortress’s outer walls were thickening and rising at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Its original height of one hundred meters increased further. The walls were no longer simple pitch-black metal but displayed complex composite material textures.

The inner layer was an energy-absorbing honeycomb structure, the middle layer consisted of self-repairing memory metal, and the outer layer was hardened alloy infused with anti-magic powder.

Yet this was merely one node in the Noren workshops’ defensive system.

Looking outward, with Fortress No. 7 at the center, similar yet distinctly detailed steel strongholds stood every few dozen kilometers across the gray-white wasteland to the left and right.

Every fortress was simultaneously undergoing reinforcement operations.

From the very beginning, the wizards had no intention of fighting independently.

The million-strong wizard army dispatched by the Noren workshops had already been organized into a strict hierarchy before even entering the plane.

The entire legion was divided into twelve “war groups,” each war group containing ten “battalions,” and each battalion comprising ten “squads.”

The most basic combat unit was a “squad” consisting of ten thousand third- to fifth-ring wizards, supported by several sixth-ring wizards and led by at least one seventh-ring wizard.

Fortress No. 7 served as the defensive core for one such squad.

According to pre-war requirements, these fortresses’ arrays would eventually merge into one, forming a single super-large war stronghold.

At this moment, aside from rear-line wizards like Jie Ming stationed inside the fortress, far more wizards were carrying out other tasks across the wilderness.

“Third ripple trap group, deployment complete.”

“Seventh void minefield, activated.”

“Detection spore cluster released to predetermined quantity, beginning dispersal toward enemy approach vector.”

Endless reports echoed continuously through the encrypted mental network within Fortress No. 7’s command center.

The command center was located thirty meters underground—a spherical space fifty meters in diameter.

Its walls were covered with over a hundred real-time monitoring screens displaying battlefield information from every angle.

Clark stood at the center, hands clasped behind his back, calmly scanning the screens.

The screens showed footage from several vanguard legions.

Roughly one hundred thousand wizards specialized in stealth, traps, and guerrilla warfare were fanning outward from Fortress No. 7 as the starting point.

Since the earlier curse battle had already revealed each side’s general area, these wizards were now relentlessly deploying all manner of lethal traps across the wilderness.

At the same time, massive numbers of reconnaissance units were being released.

Nanoscale metal construct flying insects, mimetic slimes that blended perfectly with the environment, pure light-and-shadow phantom messengers…

These “cannon fodder”-level reconnaissance units spread outward at astonishing speed, weaving a surveillance network that covered hundreds of kilometers ahead.

“Report.”

An urgent communication came through.

A fifth-ring wizard wearing light armor appeared on the screen, a fresh burn scar across his face.

Behind him, energy explosions flashed continuously—he was clearly in an active combat zone.

“Fortress No. 7 forward detection post, designation 114. Enemy main force movement confirmed…”

The wizard’s voice was somewhat hoarse but extremely rapid:

“Enemy full army advance. Numbers… minimum estimate one million five hundred thousand, maximum possible one million eight hundred thousand. March formation is ‘arrowhead assault array.’ Vanguard led by nearly five hundred seventh-ring wizards, over ten thousand sixth-ring wizards. Main rear cluster accelerating—estimated contact with our first trap defense line in forty-seven minutes.”

In the footage, one could faintly make out the slowly rising “black cloud” on the distant horizon.

That was the oppressive sight of a million wizards taking to the air simultaneously, their energy glows and flight trails intertwining to blot out the sky.

Inside the command center, the temperature seemed to drop several degrees.

Though everyone had mentally prepared themselves, when the number was actually confirmed, an invisible weight still pressed down on every listener’s heart.

Clark’s expression remained unchanged.

Clearly, the enemy also had a portion of their high-ring wizards unaccounted for.

The bad news was that both sides had absent high-ring combat power.

Thus, the enemy’s current available numbers still exceeded those of the Noren workshops, placing the workshops at a disadvantage at every level.

Third- to fifth-ring base wizards numbered only about sixty percent of the enemy’s.

Sixth- and seventh-ring wizards numbered roughly seventy percent of the enemy’s.

“In simple terms,” Clark finally spoke, his voice calm as though stating a fact unrelated to himself, “even if a portion of the enemy’s high-ring wizards are absent, our high-ring combat power remains inferior.”

“Correct.”

A voice laced with amusement suddenly rang out beside Clark.

Space twisted slightly, and Dionysius Spencer stepped out from the void.

The wizard showed no trace of worry on his face—only an eager, almost excited gleam.

Clark turned his head and gave him a glance.

“Can’t you at least pretend to be a little concerned?”

“Concerned?” Dionysius laughed heartily. “With the strongest genius in Noren workshops history on our side, what do I have to worry about?”

Their conversation was not loud, but the command center was quiet, and the words clearly reached Jie Ming, who was nearby adjusting a defensive rune node.

Jie Ming’s hands paused for a moment.

He stealthily nudged Senior Sister Viola beside him—she was standing with arms crossed, leaning against the wall, watching the rapidly approaching “black cloud” on the screen with great interest.

“Senior Sister,” Jie Ming sent a mental fluctuation through his gaze, “‘the strongest genius in Noren workshops history’… who has such an exaggerated title?”

Viola turned her head, genuine surprise on her face.

“You really didn’t know?” She blinked her silver-gray eyes. “Mentor Clark is the holder of that title.”

Jie Ming was stunned.

“But…” He hesitated. “Isn’t Wizard Starfall the first wizard from Noren workshops to receive a Level-1 cultivation protocol? Doesn’t that mean…”

“It means her research holds immense value in advancing wizard civilization as a whole,” Viola finished, tone matter-of-fact. “But Mentor Clark didn’t receive a Level-1 protocol because his research cannot be popularized at all—it’s only suitable for an extremely small number of geniuses, perhaps only himself.”

She paused, noticing Jie Ming’s thoughtful expression, and added:

“That doesn’t mean the old man is weak. Quite the opposite—precisely because his path is utterly unique and unreplicable, he is internally recognized by the workshops as ‘the strongest individual genius in history.’”

Jie Ming wanted to ask more, but Dionysius’s voice already resounded throughout the entire defensive zone via mental link:

“All combat personnel, immediately move to designated combat positions!”

“Fortress array entering full activation state!”

“Vanguard legions withdrawing—prepare to receive them!”

“All units, release cannon fodder legions…”

“Prepare for full engagement!”

The orders were like cold water poured into boiling oil, instantly igniting the entire area.

Wizards who had been working outside the fortress began an orderly retreat inside.

Thick metal gates slowly lowered. Millions of defensive runes across the walls lit up one by one, constructing from foundation to summit a three-dimensional energy shield radiating faint golden light.

At the same time, every wizard—regardless of rank—began releasing their prepared “cannon fodder units.”

This was standard in wizard warfare.

Duels between high-ring wizards often affected the entire battlefield and required undivided focus.

The vast numbers of relatively lower-threat mid- and low-ring enemy wizards, along with their summons and constructs, needed to be consumed and pinned down by one’s own cannon fodder units.

Outside Fortress No. 7, the once-empty wasteland where only ten thousand-odd wizards had operated was, in just one minute, completely “filled.”

No—not filled.

It was flooded.

Metal construct giants marched forward in heavy formation, shoulder-mounted energy cannons beginning to charge.

Elemental summoning arrays unfolded in the sky. Fire crows, ice wolves, thunder eagles, stone gargoyles… all manner of elemental creatures surged forth like a tide.

Flesh-warped war beasts roared, their forms twisted—some with three heads, some covered entirely in bone spikes, some with fleshy wings sprouting from their backs.

Parasitic spore clusters spread like green mist, latching onto any enemy, draining life force and rapidly multiplying.

There were even stranger existences: shadow-constructed assassins, splitting slime monstrosities, illusion legions formed purely from sound…

The cannon fodder units released by over ten thousand wizards easily surpassed a hundred million in number—and the count was still rising rapidly.

The sky was blotted out. The ground trembled.

Jie Ming also left the command center and stepped outside.

He closed his eyes and sank his consciousness into his internal cave-heaven.

There, the legion that had long been prepared awaited his command.

“Go.”

The silent order was given.

The next second…

Rumble rumble rumble…

On the western side of Fortress No. 7, in an area with a radius exceeding five hundred meters, space suddenly twisted violently.

Then, like floodwaters bursting a dam, a black torrent poured out from the void.

It was an army.

Pitch-black giants coated in flowing liquid metal layers leaped from the distorted space.

They silently formed ranks. The shortest stood thirty meters tall. Vertical slits in their chests occasionally opened and closed, revealing obsidian-like sharp teeth within.

A bone-chilling cold emanated from them—the low-temperature field created by continuously absorbing external heat.

One million fifth-ring black giants.

Ten thousand sixth-ring black giants.

And hovering above the legion—seven hundred figures slightly smaller in stature yet radiating clear intelligence.

They wore armor engraved with complex runes, wielded staves condensed from their own secretions, and their eyes flickered with rational spiritual light.

Black giant priests—all seven hundred, all sixth-ring.

Of the black giants brought from the Infernal Sulfur plane, only one hundred priests had been kept by Jie Ming inside his internal cave-heaven to maintain the automatic factories and energy circulation systems.

The moment this legion appeared, the cannon fodder units released by the surrounding wizards showed obvious “avoidance.”

It was the instinctive fear low-tier beings felt in the presence of high-tier existences.

After all, the average energy fluctuation of the black giant legion reached fifth-ring, mixed with the pressure of over ten thousand sixth-ring beings.

Aside from cannon fodder units released by high-ring wizards, the other wizards’ cannon fodder appeared far too weak before Jie Ming’s black giants.