Those unfamiliar with the attack techniques were stunned beyond belief.
Lightning rained down from the clouds, surging with relentless fury. When they looked up, they saw the clouds themselves breathing lightning, fed by the dragons' roars.
"This...""How?""..."
"Hahaha..."
The grand commanders stood speechless while the Pyre vanguard commander laughed in disbelief. This couldn't be real—yet it was happening right before their eyes.
Immediately, they turned and raised their guard. The 7th-star outliers could no longer hold back; they were losing their forces at an alarming rate, so they charged forward.
The commanders drained from earlier battles, couldn't afford to unleash their ultimate techniques again, as doing so would mean certain death. All they could do was go on the defensive and try to exhaust their enemies.
That was until the Pyre vanguard commander tried something different.
He sent his aura into the clouds and retrieved it.
BOOOOM...
A massive bolt of lightning crashed down, landing a few meters from an outlier.
"Ohh" The grand commander exclaimed in surprise, turning his face into a bloody grin.
The others, inspired, also sent their auras upward, drawing bolts of lightning from the sky. The outliers dodged and slashed at the strikes, but the lightning slowed them down.
The commanders exhaled in relief, seeing its effect.
Soon, the skies expanded further, thickening with clouds, and lightning poured down like torrential rain.
This lightning was far more potent than the strikes Baines had used.
However, very quickly, the commanders realized something painful: the lightning wouldn't be enough. It could hold the outliers at bay but not eliminate them.
The worst part was that the enemy was adapting.
Perhaps it was because of the dragons' level, but there was no other option.
That was when Baines shifted into the second formation.
The commanders were confused. Why stop an effective tactic? But their doubts were answered soon enough.
As the dragons and archers unleashed a fierce downpour at the center of the outliers, the Sunblade legion and the vanguard forces formed a swirling storm of fire and wind, a firestorm that reached the heavens.
Still, they had their own 7th-star enemies to deal with. Their bodies kept paying the price as the outliers began gaining ground on them. Large cuts were marred over the commanders' bodies, and they couldn't stop knowing well that stopping meant death.
...
Back on the main battlefield, the situation was a total reverse. The soldiers could only watch in amazement at the effect of just two large scale formations.
'Still not enough,' Baines thought as he observed the growing inferno.
The storm couldn't even reach the dark clouds above, just like the picture in his mind.
Yet the destruction it left behind was unimaginable.
When the firestorm finally faded, fewer than half the original outliers remained.
Likewise, the army was drained.
Their reserves were nearly depleted, but their eyes still burned with fierce determination. If they repeated that maneuver, maybe, just maybe, they could wipe out the enemy at a go.
The legion commanders, brimming with excitement, looked to Baines for the signal to reform the attack.
Instead, Baines spoke one simple word that shattered their thoughts:
"Attack."
The mood shifted instantly.
It was as if they suddenly remembered that this "boy" was technically their subordinate, not the other way around.
"What are you doing?" one commander barked at him.
"Ignore him. Soldiers attack the ground! Dragon knights, attack the skies!" another commander shouted, issuing his own orders.
Since a legion commander outranked a battalion commander, the army naturally obeyed him.
And as for Baines, he didn't care to even convince them otherwise.
He wasn't here to save their empire. He wasn't here to convince fools.
He was here to just earn achievements—achievements that would help him find his family faster. Anyone who dismissed his advice would simply be left behind.
He had already considered everything. Those formations couldn't be repeated without rest; forcing them again would only bring more disaster.
Yet the soldiers rushed forward regardless.
Dragons surged into the sky, soldiers poured their aura into the heavens—
BOOM...
At first, everything seemed fine. The outlier numbers dwindled even further.
Until—
"Gahh..."
"Arghh..."
"Ahhh!"
Screams erupted from within the army.
"Huh? What's happening?!" the legion commander who gave the order shouted, his face paling.
"STOP!" another commander roared.
It was Julius, he recognized the signs instantly.
"Aura misflow," he muttered, grim-faced.
Their soldiers were overloading their energy cores with more aura than they could handle.
It was a dangerous situation, and its results were usually agonizing injuries, disabled energy cores or death.
And it was spreading like wildfire.
Soldiers dropped like flies, clutching their chests or simply collapsing.
Half the army was crippled in mere moments. Screams of pain continuously filled the air. The relatively safe soldiers were those who still had enough aura, meaning from 5th star and above, those who hadn't begun attacking, and the archers' and dragon knights.
Seeing this, the outliers seized the opportunity and rushed in.
The grand commanders, still locked in battle, couldn't intervene or know what was happening, leaving them to themselves.
The more intelligent legion commanders looked back at Baines, their faces full of regret and helplessness, hoping he also a way out.
It was really strange, for a person as high as a legion commander to look for a battlefield commander for help, however what mattered when their survival was at stake.
But Baines didn't even look at them. He was fighting the outliers who rushed at him.
They deserved their fate.
The outliers descended upon the broken army, slaughtering them like sheep. The archers couldn't hold them back as the place had become too chaotic.
At this point, even if the empire somehow won this war, it would be a hollow victory.
'Unless there's a miracle,' Baines thought grimly as he kept piercing his lance forward with his right hand and swing his sword in his left hand.
He was getting overwhelmed himself, so he couldn't help even if he wanted to.
And then, something happened.
A voice echoed across the battlefield:
"Solore Floris."
In response, a massive circular symbol formed in the sky, intricate patterns glowing with ancient power, magic circle.
And a golden waterfall poured from it.
It flowed down over the battlefield, sweeping from the commanders' battle lines all the way to the mountain's feet, then like a lie, the waterfall reversed back up into the circle and disappeared.
No one felt pain, no one felt any attack.
But when they looked around, the outliers were gone.
All swept away.
Only the empire's soldiers remained.
Their eyes all turned upward and saw their savior.
A lone figure floated in the sky—arms behind his back, white-golden hair fluttering, his red-and-gold robes shimmering with intricate designs of merit and honor.
The sight of him shook every heart on the battlefield.
The mana he radiated—
'An 8th star,' Baines whispered.
A Grand Magus. A Mana Sovereign. A rank, only a handful had reached in the empire.
The Grand Commander of the Sunblade Legion shouted to the top of his lungs:
"Show your respect! You stand before the Fifth Imperial Commander!"
Despite their shock, and despite the soldiers writhing in pain, the empire's forces saluted.
With his arrival, the war ended.