Journey to Become the Zenith

Chapter 259: The Mistbound Counterattack [Part-2]

The Mistbound Counterattack [Part-2]

Then—

A thick white mist rolled across the battlefield.

The forest disappeared.

Visibility dropped instantly.

The undead army slowed.

Even Alibaba’s forces lost sight of their targets.

"What happened?"

"I can’t see!"

"Stay together!"

Voices echoed through the fog.

This was a spell performed by Brinda, while Eon and Lane were fighting she was already preparing to use this large scale spell for a quick retreat. Now that the sights of the enemy forces have been reduced Eon even though he sustained some injuries was able to escape the encirclement, same goes for Lane.

Brinda stood far from the battlefield.

Sweat rolled down her forehead.

Her purple hair stuck to her face.

Maintaining such a large-scale spell was exhausting.

Still, she continued pouring mana into it.

"Move, you idiots..." she muttered anxiously.

"Don’t waste the opening."

Inside the mist, Eon laughed.

"Brinda actually pulled it off."

Lane nodded.

"Retreat."

The two immediately withdrew.

Several undead attacked blindly.

None managed to stop them.

Using the cover of the fog, the surviving defenders disappeared into the forest.

The two groups from the left flank and right flank quickly retreated into the forest.

The first clash had not gone the way Lane wanted.

Although they had managed to destroy hundreds of undead, it was nowhere near enough. Their objective had never been victory. They were here to buy time for Fantom City to prepare for the coming invasion.

Yet the price of that time had been far heavier than expected.

A heavy silence followed the survivors as they moved through the woods.

Nobody celebrated.

Nobody smiled.

Too many familiar faces were missing.

The losses weighed on every heart.

Lane walked at the front without saying a word, her fists clenched tightly at her sides.

’Tsk...’

A trace of frustration flashed through her eyes.

’I’m terrible at this. That first engagement cost us far more men than it should have.’

As the thought lingered, she continued toward the designated checkpoint where the scattered groups would regroup.

The hidden camp was already waiting.

One after another, survivors emerged from different directions and entered the clearing.

Eon was among the first to arrive.

His armor was cracked and stained with blood. Several wounds covered his body, but he remained standing as firmly as ever.

Brinda glanced at him and frowned.

"You look awful."

Eon grinned.

"You should see the undead."

The joke fell flat.

No one laughed.

The wounds from the battle were still too fresh.

Lane quickly counted the remaining fighters.

The result made her expression darken.

Thirty people.

They had lost thirty people in a single engagement.

Twenty-five warriors.

Five mages.

Gone.

The number echoed repeatedly in her mind.

For a brief moment, she wanted to click her tongue in annoyance.

Instead, she took a slow breath.

Failure meant learning.

If she wanted to protect Fantom City and buy enough time for Victor’s territory to prepare, then she needed to do better.

Much better.

Her gaze slowly swept across the survivors.

Some sat against trees while receiving treatment.

Some stared silently at the ground.

Others were simply trying to recover their strength.

The earlier excitement from the ambush had completely disappeared.

Reality had caught up with them.

Every small victory had been purchased with blood.

Lane stood before the gathered fighters.

The evening breeze stirred her black hair as her dark eyes examined each face.

Nobody spoke.

Nobody interrupted.

They simply waited.

They were waiting for their leader to decide what came next.

After several moments of silence, Lane finally spoke.

"We’re switching to Plan B."

The survivors immediately straightened.

"Three large groups are too easy for the undead to track and surround. From now on, we’ll divide into much smaller teams."

She paused briefly before continuing.

"Five people per group. Three warriors and two mages."

Several people nodded.

The adjustment made sense.

Smaller groups would be harder to detect and far more mobile.

"Eon and Brinda will lead one team together."

Both of them nodded without objection.

Then Lane added,

"As for me, I’ll operate alone."

A ripple spread through the crowd.

Several people exchanged surprised looks.

One of the younger warriors couldn’t stop himself from speaking.

"By yourself?"

Lane’s eyes immediately settled on him.

The young man instinctively straightened his back.

"Do you have an objection?" she asked calmly.

"N-No."

"Good."

Her voice remained calm.

Cold.

Steady.

The warrior quickly lowered his head.

Lane continued.

"Remember hit fast and hard, then immediately escape. Those who abandon their task midway, and run from the field of battle, will be hunted down by me personally. At the time I catch you... You would wish that you have died in battle."

The atmosphere instantly dropped several degrees.

Nobody doubted her words.

Not after witnessing her fighting earlier.

Not after seeing the determination in her eyes.

Eon folded his arms across his chest.

"I’ll handle the left side."

Brinda nodded.

"And I’ll make sure nobody finds us before we’re ready."

One veteran mage tightened his grip on his staff.

"The smaller groups should be harder for the undead to track."

"That’s the idea," Lane replied.

"They outnumber us. We won’t beat them head-on."

A warrior standing near the back clenched his jaw.

"So we’re becoming a thorn in their side."

A faint smile appeared on Eon’s face.

"A very painful thorn."

A few nervous chuckles escaped from the group.

The tension eased slightly.

Only slightly.

Everyone understood what awaited them.

Some of them would not survive the next attack.

Yet nobody stepped back.

Nobody tried to leave.

The determination in their eyes slowly hardened.

One warrior slammed his fist against his chest.

"We’ll complete the mission."

Several others immediately followed.

"We’ll hold them back."

"For Fantom City."

"For our families."

"For the people behind us."

Their voices gradually grew stronger.

Not loud.

Not heroic.

Just firm.

Resolute.

Lane listened quietly.

Then her expression became serious once more.

Her eyes swept across the entire gathering.

The warmth she normally showed around Victor was nowhere to be found.

Only resolve remained.

Only responsibility.

Only the burden of command.

A faint killing intent leaked from her body.

The surrounding air suddenly felt heavier.

Several people instinctively lowered their heads.

Others straightened their backs.

Even breathing became difficult.

Everyone except Eon and Brinda felt a chill run down their spine.

Those who had secretly entertained thoughts of slipping away once the groups separated immediately buried the idea.

Completely.

One look from Lane was enough to make them understand.

Running from the battlefield would be a far worse fate than facing the undead army.

And not a single person doubted that.