Chapter 28 Chapter 28: Theresa
Chapter 28: Theresa
"Tsk, what a grand gesture. Such a massive yield of Originium bombs, and they were all used here."
Hedley scooped up a handful of pitch-black scorched earth, looking at the wreckage of the entire defensive position, and couldn't help but click his tongue.
The soil in his hand still seemed to retain a trace of warmth. The acrid smell of burning that rushed into his nostrils was nauseating. Small charred lumps and a viscous, mud-like substance mixed with the soil—believe me, you wouldn't want to know what that was.
The open flames on the position hadn't completely died out yet. Small flickers of fire burned the last remaining combustibles on this battlefield—some clothing?
However, the blast pattern left by this Originium bomb was a bit too... Hedley frowned slightly, noticing something odd.
Even the Regent's army couldn't have dropped Originium bombs with such pinpoint accuracy, could they? Not a single one landed outside the defensive perimeter?
"It seems we are not far from Babel now."
The doubts in his mind remained unresolved, but Hedley temporarily suppressed his curiosity. After all, he had more important things to do now and couldn't afford to dwell on it further.
He continued driving, following the trail.
——
"Sarkaz profanity, why are these rearguard bastards so troublesome? In just half a month, do you know how much strength we've lost? Can anyone tell me why the entire Blade-Dancer unit chasing that isolated force suddenly went silent?! Why did our warehouse catch fire two days ago? Where was your security? Over two thousand people couldn't guard one warehouse, were you all off eating Sarkaz slang?"
A general from the Military Commission side was furious. He originally thought this was a sure-thing mission, purely for racking up military achievements, since the Military Commission's forces were far stronger than Babel's.
And that was indeed the case in reality. But despite such a huge advantage, they had been silently trading pieces through various means. Even now, he still hadn't figured out some of the enemy's tactical objectives.
It was all so murky and confusing, almost enough to drive one mad! It felt as if an invisible hand was manipulating the entire situation from the shadows, and he was merely a toy and a laughable puppet under that hand.
The tightly bound strings and pressure were almost suffocating. Since the pursuit began, he hadn't heard a single piece of good news.
"Instead of this, why not gather our forces now while they are clustered and completely crush their defensive line!"
In a head-on confrontation, in the face of absolute strength, everything else is an illusion. He firmly believed this.
"Someone! Prepare for the general assault!"
......
"Time to close the net."
The Doctor took one last look at the fierce battle below and said indifferently. He threw out the final piece that would crush the pursuing forces.
The Banshees!
Nearly four-fifths of the Banshees had been mobilized here by him. No one would have anticipated that while Theresa herself was being pursued and tracked by various elite units, the Doctor would actually deploy most of the main force around Theresa—the majority of the Banshee clan—to the front lines.
In his words, "Even if there is risk, sometimes we have no choice but to act. This is the only, and final, method."
But fortunately, the Doctor's gamble paid off. At least after this battle, Babel would gain a brief period of respite for recuperation.
When the glow of the Banshees' Arts lit up in unison, the Doctor knew there was no need for him to continue observing the battle.
"Banshees?! That many! How dare he?!"
The Vampire's face revealed an indescribable fear. His already pale face was now utterly bloodless. He had lost. He had completely lost!
After so many days of combat and under various unseen schemes, this pursuing army had already been worn down to a precarious state.
With the Banshees joining, the outcome of the battle was decided!
————
One day later,
South of Kazdel, Babel Headquarters Base, Temporary Urban District.
A woman with a gentle demeanor was walking on the street. Her soft, light pink hair fluttered in the wind. She wore a cyan-blue ring on each finger, dressed in a white dress with a black collar and long boots.
A flicker of sorrow occasionally passed through her eyes, but her face always maintained a warm smile.
They had already suffered too much hardship. No one wanted to see more sorrow. So, of course, she was willing to face them with a more positive countenance.
She bent down to speak softly with the victims, hoping to offer them some small measure of comfort.
She personally tended to the wounded, cleaning their wounds herself, not caring if her white dress was stained with blood or her hands soaked in gore.
She was Theresa, inheritor of the Demon King's power, the most legitimate ruler of all Sarkaz on this land.
Almost every Sarkaz who saw her showed expressions of admiration and respect,
not because of authority or power. This feeling stemmed purely from their most genuine hearts.
"Akasa, you're running around again. Be careful, Grandpa Umiz is going to settle accounts with you again."
"Ah! Sister Theresa, please don't tell Grandpa, okay?"
"You little rascal! Let's see where you run now! Ah, Your Highness Theresa is here too? Sorry for troubling you."
"No trouble at all."
She chuckled lightly and quickly waved her hands.
And so Theresa walked along the street. Even though the chaotic environment bred a nauseating stench, she seemed not to smell it at all as she walked on her way.
Suddenly, a coldly beautiful woman with her head covered by a hood, her face obscured except for a few strands of red hair hanging down, appeared behind Theresa.
"Your Highness, someone is looking for you."
"Oh? Does the Doctor have another plan? Or is it Kal'tsit?"
Theresa tilted her head curiously. She seemed to possess a youthful, lighthearted air about her, yet in truth, she was over a hundred years old.
"No. It's a group of mercenaries...? That might not be entirely accurate. But they mentioned the name 'Bolshakov'."
This was why Ascalon was willing to come report. She wouldn't dare let potentially threatening individuals approach Her Highness the Princess casually. But Bolshakov was also one of the Six Heroes of Sarkaz.
His name carried enough weight.
"Old Mr. Bolshakov?"
She asked in surprise. It really had been a long time since she'd heard any news about him.
"Ascalon, let's go see them together then."
————
The five sat silently in the reception room drinking hot water. The operator in charge of reception was quite polite. Although the place was rather shabby, their attitude was impeccable.
"We have reported it up. Please wait a moment."
"Yes. After all, this is rather sudden. We understand."
Hedley didn't take offense.
W drained her cup in one gulp and looked around idly, occasionally letting out some rather impolite yawns.
Creak—
The sound of a door opening came.
doctor is still the goat