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Although each of the five ten-man squads from the Vanguard Army could have wiped out this fourth-level demon scouting party in a short amount of time, the brutal and unconventional combat style they witnessed still left them in awe.
This groundbreaking example of close-quarters combat on the Abyssal Battlefield was enough to set anyone's blood on fire. Compared to modern "hot weapon" warfare, the high-efficiency slaughter using "cold weapons" delivered a distinct visual shock that was both visceral and exhilarating.
Nailing a demon thousand-man commander with four lances was, without a doubt, far more impressive than simply shooting one to death with four bullets.
Whether it was the buzzing, serrated chainswords or the massive 2.2-meter-long folding heavy cavalry lances, both were perfect embodiments of raw masculine passion and combat romance.
"Report: The strike squad has completed the elimination of all demons ranked ten-man commander and above. We have retrieved the corpses of those ranked hundred-man commander and above, and are preparing to begin initial resource recovery."
"Acknowledged. Remaining demon forces will be handled by our unit."
Though a little surprised, Professor Carlisle didn't let it distract her from completing the encounter with the remaining scattered demon forces. While there wasn't a single ten-man commander-class demon in sight at the moment, it was almost guaranteed that among the 200 or so remaining demons, at least one would absorb the magical energy from the fallen and evolve twice—becoming a hundred-man commander.
These creatures, capable of advancing simply by absorbing magic, only became more elite as the battle wore on. If they weren't dealt with quickly, it was entirely possible that, in the final stages of a battle against a demon horde of five to six thousand led by a ten-thousand-man commander, two or three demon lords of that highest rank could emerge. The cannon fodder wasn't just expendable—it was fuel for the birth of high-ranking demons.
The demon forces would grow smaller in number but exponentially more elite. This bizarre species, seemingly evolved solely for war, possessed traits that made them a constant headache. If not for the Abyssal Battlefield's extreme scarcity of ambient magic, they would be far more difficult to deal with. In high-magic environments, you would literally watch them slowly and steadily advance in rank—drag the fight out long enough, and even if they started as zero-tier grunts, they'd soon be an army of ten-thousand-man commander-level monsters.
Training a qualified wizard takes ten years. Creating a demon lord-level commander only takes enough magic.
Dissecting demons and extracting the valuable magical minerals near their cores is a task every wizard on the Abyssal Battlefield must know and execute with precision. If not harvested, the leftover corpses would be absorbed by arriving demons and could give birth to a new demon of the same or even higher rank. As long as there was even a sliver of time, any corpse above the hundred-man commander level had to have its highest-value materials—those around the magic core—retrieved. Otherwise, it might as well be immortal; you could kill the same demon over and over and still never clear the battlefield.
With sufficient time, the strike squad stripped every magical mineral from the demon corpses. These ultra-high-purity minerals were valuable enough to buy a dozen of the latest flame bolt arrows from the Halo Company. Though the Abyss had claimed the bones of countless wizards, it was also the richest mine on the planet—for those strong enough to survive, the ground was paved with gold.
"All squads, form up. Staggered volley fire. Use the ten-man commander demon corpses as anchor points. Gradually eliminate the remaining demons to delay them from reaching the corpses and absorbing their magic."
"Load spell sequences of Penetration, Disintegration, and Pulverization. Fire in three-stage cycles. Wait for targets to enter the 250-meter precision range."
Under Professor Carlisle's command, the Durmstrang test squad advanced swiftly to deploy, assessing the real-world performance of their combat gear. Their standard magic crystal alchemical rifles had a much shorter range than Qiu's personal Light-Wing Composite Armament. With custom long-range alchemical rounds, Qiu's effective direct-fire range extended up to three kilometers. But each of those rounds cost more than their weight in gold—she wouldn't waste one unless absolutely necessary. Her monthly stipend from the strike group barely covered two or three shots. And if the corpses couldn't be recovered, it would be nothing more than money thrown into the abyss.
"Fire target rounds. Assign firing units. All members, take your positions—"
"First volley!"
The sixty-member squad was divided into three groups. Twenty precise barrages were launched simultaneously. Though the demons were moving targets, these elite Durmstrang students—handpicked and rigorously trained—did not miss a single shot. As top-tier candidates, they were already reserve forces for the Abyssal standing army. The only thing they lacked compared to official soldiers was real combat experience.
Quick and steady echeloned volley fire forcibly suppressed the approaching demons, keeping them less than twenty meters from the ten-man commander demon corpses. After three rounds of fire, the cannon fodder had been reduced by a fifth—and from their ranks emerged the first ten-man commander, followed closely by a second!
The second echelon, already in position, operated in pairs. As soon as the two newly evolved demons grew in size and completed their advancement, target rounds were launched. Marked at their weak points, the demons were instantly hit by precision sniper fire from each duo.
However, the demons' unique battlefield evolution had already begun. The formation that had successfully suppressed their advance now showed gaps. The demons advanced toward the corpses of the ten-man commanders, using their fallen "comrades" as shields to feast behind. In just a few seconds, the five-foot-tall "goblins" transformed—over a dozen of them now stood around 1.7 meters tall, and with frenzied shrieks, they charged forward at nearly 100 kilometers per hour.
These multi-ton stone tanks barreled into the line of deadly, precision fire. But their relentless surge was more than just suicidal—they provided energy for those behind them. The death of each demon became fuel. The first hundred-man commander appeared. Then, as the demon numbers dropped to single digits, a second and third hundred-man commander emerged.
"Mark with target rounds."
"Load spell sequence: Penetration, Penetration, Disintegration, Fusion, Pulverization."
"First volley."
"Fire!"
At less than 100 meters from the front line, all three hundred-man commander demons collapsed simultaneously. Nine beams of composite spells struck with pinpoint accuracy, targeting their magical cores. After piercing three layers of their magic-resistant exoskeletons, the barrage shattered their cores completely.
"Sweep the field. Regroup in two minutes."
The students, having just completed their first real Abyss encounter, surged into the battlefield with excitement and exhilaration. Most of the cannon fodder corpses no longer held any recovery value, but the final three hundred-man commanders still had plenty of useful materials.
Not long after, with their spoils gathered and secured, the students withdrew from the shattered battlefield. The fragmented stones scattered across the ground still contained faint traces of residual magic—energy that would gradually dissipate, becoming nourishment for the next generation of demons to be born and raised.
This is the unending cycle of the Abyssal Battlefield—life everlasting.
(End of Chapter)