The night sky over the Holy Land Mountains was illuminated as if it were daytime by the golden "Holy Light Dome".

Exodar, known as the "city that will never fall," stands at the heart of the Kingdom of Arathor, the last bulwark of light in the Land of Light.

Its outer walls were crafted by dwarven artisans over generations using indestructible runestone.

Its core is the "Holy Light Dragon Vein" deep underground, an energy vein said to be bestowed by the gods, providing the entire city with a continuous source of holy light.

This city is home to nobles, knights, priests of the Kingdom of Arathor, as well as refugees from various races who have fled from the north—descendants of elven royalty, dwarven rune masters, orc shamans, and even remnants of small nations who have lost their homes under the iron heel of the empire.

They gathered here, with nostalgia for the old era and hatred for the new empire, vowing to defend their last dignity and faith in this holy city.

However, this fortress that symbolizes hope is now surrounded by endless darkness.

The demonic legions of the Holy Star Empire, like a black plague ocean, completely surrounded the entire Holy Advent Mountains.

Hundreds of millions of monsters—from lowly lesser demons to mountain-sized abyssal behemoths—roared at the foot of the mountain.

Their eyes burned with hunger and killing intent. In the sky, the Empire's "Suppressor"-class airships, like suspended steel mountains, cast suffocating shadows, their massive bow cannons emitting a destructive dark red glow.

Llane Wrynn, the Holy King of Arazor, stood before the throne in the Hall of Glory, gazing out the window at the sky swallowed by darkness.

His white hair fluttered in the breeze, and the "Holy Light Wish" he held tightly in his hand emitted a faint golden light.

This divine sword, once a symbol of the bloodline of "heroes" ten thousand years ago, now seems so powerless.

Beside him stood the elderly paladin Bedivere, and several loyal noble advisors. Their faces were etched with weariness and despair.

“Your Majesty…” a noblewoman named Elena, the finance minister of the Kingdom of Arasso, said in a low voice, “Our granaries can only last for a month, and the Holy Light reserves of the priesthood have been exhausted… Can we really hold on?”

King Ryan did not answer, but silently tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.

His gaze swept over the crowd in the hall—those once high-ranking nobles, now ragged and devoid of their former glory. Some had lost their husbands, some their children, some had even witnessed their fiefdoms burned to ashes by demons. And now, they could only await their fate in this crumbling holy city.

“The Holy Light will protect us.” King Ryan’s voice was deep and firm. “As long as we have a breath left, we will never yield to those heretics.”

However, his vow seemed so pale amidst the gunfire of the Imperial fleet.

At this moment, the sky transformed into a giant meat grinder.

Golden feathers and blood splattered amidst lasers and explosions. The knights' battle cries were drowned out by the roar of machinery.

Bedivere's eyes widened in horror as he watched his most prized student—a young knight—along with his griffin, be pierced by a laser beam and plummet into the fireball. His ears were filled with the screams of his comrades and the griffin's mournful cry.

"No...no!" he roared, pouring all his life force and holy light into his spear, transforming himself into a dazzling golden meteor as he resolutely crashed into the nearest "Suppressor" class airship.

Buzz!

The warship's energy shield rippled violently. Bedivere's figure, along with his griffin, was disintegrated by the shield's high temperature and energy a hundred meters away from the warship's hull, leaving not even a trace of ash.

His attack only caused the shield's energy reading to fluctuate by a negligible 0.1 percent.

The 300,000-strong Griffin Knights were wiped out in just ten minutes.

This tragic, suicidal charge failed to disrupt the Imperial fleet's formation in the slightest.

The soldiers on the city walls fell into a deathly silence. From the nobles' towers came heart-wrenching cries. Those once elegant ladies and young women now collapsed to the ground, their clothes soaked with tears, their makeup ruined.

“My son… my Karl…” A marquis, clutching a ring engraved with the family crest, trembled, “He was only twenty… he had just become a knight…”

Her husband, the Marquis, stood beside her, silent.

His eyes held no tears, only endless emptiness. He knew that his eldest son, Carl Ravens, had vanished forever into the blood-stained sky.

"Hehehehe..." Lilith's mocking laughter echoed across the battlefield. "What a moving performance! Now, it's my children's turn to enjoy this feast!"

With her command, the demon army besieging the foot of the mountain launched a full-scale attack.

But they did not choose to climb headfirst. Thousands of enormous, train-like "Abyssal Corruption Giant Earthworms," ​​their mouths gurgling with corrosive acid, roared as they plunged into the foothills of the Holy Land Mountains. Their carapaces were as hard as steel, and their acid could melt anything. The rocks, inscribed with runes by the dwarven masters for millennia, were as fragile as tofu before these abyssal monsters.

Boom! Boom!

A dull, rumbling sound echoed from the very foundations of Exodar. Countless massive tunnels, forcibly carved out by giant earthworms, bypassed all the frontal defenses, meandering like venomous snakes into the heart of the city—the underground voids housing residential areas, warehouses, and the energy core.

"Oh no! The enemy has broken in from underground!" came the guard's alarmed cry over the communication channel.

"West Zone Passage 3 has been breached! Requesting backup!"

"Ah—! Help! It's a monster!"

The city's interior was instantly engulfed in screams and cries for help. The war, in an unexpectedly brutal manner, had directly entered the stage of urban warfare.

Countless dinosaurs, demons, and abyssal guards surged into Exodar's interior through the tunnels burrowed out by the giant earthworms, like a black plague.

They killed indiscriminately, destroying everything in their path, dragging this sacred city into a bloody hell. The streets were littered with the corpses of civilians, and rivers of blood flowed through the cobblestones. Magnificent palaces were consumed by demonic fire, and exquisite statues were smashed to pieces. The once solemn and majestic Cathedral of Holy Light was now reduced to ruins, corroded by the claw marks and acid of the demons.

The pampered noble district suffered particularly terribly. Those once-proud aristocratic families hid in their manors, attempting to defend themselves against the demon invasion with private guards and magical barriers. However, these defenses were utterly inadequate against the demons' overwhelming numbers and brutality.

In a count's mansion, Countess Isabella and her two daughters huddled in a corner of the basement.

Outside the door, the screams of guards and the roars of monsters echoed. Isabella held her daughters tightly, whispering prayers for the protection of the holy light.

However, the iron door to the basement was quickly dissolved by the corrosive acid of the giant earthworms, and a horde of Deinonychus rushed in. Their claws tore through the guards' bodies, splattering blood on the walls. Isabella screamed, trying to protect her daughters, but a Deinonychus' claws mercilessly pierced her chest. One of her two daughters was torn apart on the spot, and the other was dragged into the dark tunnel, her fate unknown.

Similar tragedies unfolded throughout the noble district. Those once pampered noble ladies were dragged from their luxurious boudoirs by monsters, their clothes torn to shreds, their screams echoing through the night.

Male nobles were either slaughtered on the spot or branded as slaves and sent to the empire's worst mines. Their estates were looted, and their ancestral treasures were carelessly discarded by imperial soldiers as "useless trash."

On the command ship "Qin Shi Huang," Zhao Tianyu watched as countless red and blue dots representing life signals annihilated each other on the holographic screen. His expression remained indifferent, as if he were watching an insignificant performance.

"The demons have successfully disrupted the enemy's deployment," he said calmly. "It's time to put an end to this farce."

"Order: First to Third Assault Teams of the Tian Ce Guard, prepare for orbital airdrop. Target: Mountain City, King of Arathor, Ryan Wrynn."

"Coordinates locked, decapitation operation commenced."

Hundreds of silver-white assault pods, like swords, plummeted from the fleet, trailing long plasma tails, precisely striking the highest point of Exodar—the Cathedral of Light and Hall of Glory. The pods shattered the crystal dome and embedded themselves deeply in the ground. The hatches opened, revealing squads of Skyguard warriors clad in streamlined, silver-white power armor. Their helmets were completely sealed with mirrors, anti-gravity flight devices extended from their backs, and their high-frequency vibration blades and plasma hand cannons emitted a deadly glow.

These Heavenly Guards are the empire's ultimate killing machines. Each one has undergone genetic modification and memory alteration, abandoning human emotions and retaining only absolute loyalty to the emperor. Their movements are faster than the limits of human vision; flashes of blades leave trails of blood mist. The Royal Guards of the Hall of Glory, clad in runic steel armor and wielding holy light spears, are as fragile as paper puppets before these silver killing gods.

A young royal guard, having just raised his spear, was cleaved in two by a high-frequency blade from a Tian Ce Guard. His body severed in mid-air, his entrails and blood splattering across the ground. His fiancée, a noblewoman, witnessed it all from behind the curtains of the throne. Before she could even scream, another Tian Ce Guard shot her in the head, her brains splattering onto the opulent carpet.

King Ryan stood before the throne, his eyes filled with sorrow. He watched his guards being slaughtered, watched his kingdom crumble under the iron heel of the empire. He knew he had lost, utterly and completely.

"Who...who are you people..." he asked with his last breath.

The captain of the Tian Ce Guard, who was leading the group, stopped in his tracks. His mirrored helmet reflected the aged face of King Ryan. "We are the Tian Ce Guard, General Zhao Tianyu, from the Holy Star Empire," he said in a cold, mechanical voice. "We are here on the Emperor's orders... to liberate you."

“Liberation…” King Ryan laughed bitterly, “Is this your liberation?”

Just then, Lilith appeared outside the ruins of the hall. Clad in revealing black demonic armor, she slowly approached, stepping through a cloud of vengeful spirits. Her purple vertical pupils locked onto King Ryan, her eyes burning with the flames of vengeance.

“Descendant of the hero… Ten thousand years have passed, and we finally meet again.” She licked her scarlet lips, her voice filled with seduction and murderous intent. “That nauseating scent of holy light emanating from you… it’s something I miss.”

King Ryan raised "Holy Light's Wish," and the sword erupted with light. He channeled all his life force into a final strike: "Final Judgment!"

A golden beam of light hurtled toward Lilith. However, Lilith simply stretched out one hand, and a dark vortex appeared in her palm, swallowing the beam of light without a trace.

"Too weak...too weak..." She shook her head in disappointment. "Have ten thousand years caused your bloodline to degenerate to this extent?"