The Archmage’s Destruction Strategy - Chapter 129

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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#129. Operation Change

Even as the enemies waged an endless war of attrition against Atlas, attempting to shackle the mobile fortress’s advance toward the Western Region, the colossal machine piloted by Sung-jun continued its relentless march westward, mercilessly trampling the swarms of Corrosion Entities that charged toward it with reckless abandon.
Given Atlas’s nature as a biped walker, the smaller Corrosion Entities—those measuring less than ten meters—posed little genuine threat.
Though larger specimens occasionally emerged to impede Atlas’s movement, the countless mana cannons mounted on the fortress’s main body swiftly eliminated such obstacles, allowing Atlas to maintain a remarkably stable advance.
Recognizing that meaningless attrition alone could not halt Atlas’s swift progress, the enemy forces that had relentlessly assaulted us around the clock began to noticeably diminish in number as our objective drew nearer.
The soldiers aboard Atlas rejoiced at the dwindling enemy numbers, believing the foe had exhausted their available forces, but I could not share their optimism.
Had the enemy been so easily defeated, they would never have earned the designation “Apocalypse-class.”
Every Apocalypse-class Corrosion Entity I had encountered possessed power sufficient to annihilate humanity single-handedly.
China’s Yejigwi, which I could only defeat through the Coin of Destiny’s foresight ability—impossible to vanquish otherwise.
South Korea’s Silermantis, which even my Teacher—far stronger than I am now—could only seal away at the cost of their own life.
Japan’s Dungeon Master, whose individual combat strength was relatively modest, yet would have certainly desiccated the entire nation had I not intervened.
Each was an enemy I could not have defeated had I been merely a Mage of slightly lower caliber than my current self, so I believed the Apocalypse-class Corrosion Entity manifesting in the United States possessed comparable power.
And as if to vindicate my assessment, a colossal enemy force unlike anything I had witnessed before awaited Atlas on the Great Plain approaching our rendezvous point with Hive Hornet.

“How many of them are there, exactly?”
“The number isn’t the issue. If it were merely quantity, we’d simply trample them as usual. See those massive ones? The largest could match Atlas itself.”

Ten Level 8-class Corrosion Entities had assembled their formation alongside countless smaller specimens that blanketed the ground in an impenetrable black mass.
They appeared ready to charge and attack at any moment.
Given the enemy’s overwhelming presence, I halted Atlas’s advance and convened a tactical meeting with my commander-level soldiers.

“How many enemies can the ultra-heavy mana cannons eliminate?”
“One specimen at forty meters, two at twenty meters.”
“And at sixty meters?”
“Regrettably, I’m uncertain whether a single shot would bring one down. The real problem is that using the cannons would drastically reduce our already limited operational window.”

My projection flickered with noise-like distortions, displaying intermittent static unlike my usual clarity.
Moreover, since yesterday I had ceased maintaining the mental incantations I had woven for the soldiers’ benefit.
As if conserving strength for the coming battle, I allocated mana only to functions essential for Atlas’s operation, forsaking expenditure on convenience spells.

“Are you suffering greatly?”
“I am fatigued, certainly, but not because of you. The sheer volume of mana required to maintain Atlas’s structure and movement is simply excessive. Whether I maintained all those incantations or not, my fatigue would have been comparable.”

My words held only half-truth.
Had maintaining all those incantations truly been manageable, there would have been no reason to suspend most non-essential magical formations at this particular moment.
Yet my decision to operate additional magical formations despite the burden I willingly shouldered stemmed from strategic calculation—ensuring my soldiers faced the imminent large-scale battle in optimal condition—rather than mere sentiment.

“In any case, combat is still possible in our current state. However, if I lose consciousness midway, all functions except the auxiliary mana cannons will shut down, leaving you to fight with your own strength alone.”

It was a problem even Sung-jun couldn’t overcome, so he addressed the commanders with a grave expression.

“Our original plan was to rendezvous with Hive Hornet 100 kilometers from here and receive support, but the enemies are blocking our path. So our available options are quite limited. We’ll stand firm like a fortress, anchoring ourselves to the ground and repelling their attacks—until the aerial carrier, once notified of our changed rendezvous point, arrives to rescue us.”

As Sung-jun finished speaking and his phantom spread both arms wide, the colossal 60-meter mobile fortress Atlas assumed its combat stance.
And at that very moment, a rainbow-hued mana signal erupted like fireworks above Atlas’s head.

“What I just fired isn’t a signal flare—it’s a mana marker that only Mages can detect. My disciple Yeonse-a, aboard Hive Hornet, should be able to sense this marker, so the fact that our rendezvous point has changed will be conveyed to General MacFarlane.”
“How long until their arrival?”
“I don’t know. Just as Hive Hornet doesn’t know we failed to reach the original rendezvous point, I also don’t know their exact location. However….”

Watching the swarm of Corrosion Entities surge forward with luminous intensity the moment they detected the signal, Sung-jun spoke.

“For them, reaching us won’t be an easy task either.”

***

“Huh?!”

In her private quarters aboard Hive Hornet, Seoa, who had been practicing mana manipulation, suddenly opened her eyes as she felt the surrounding mana surge violently.
It was as if all the mana flowing around her possessed intent, conveying a message directly to her.
Seoa, well aware that only her teacher Ma Sungjun possessed the ability to control mana in this manner, immediately closed her eyes again and concentrated her mind to decipher the message hidden within the mana currents.

‘It’s murky.’

The mana flow she sensed was terribly distorted.
It felt like trying to read a message written on paper after running it through a washing machine and then attempting to decipher it again.
Yet her sharp mind immediately grasped that the very noise obstructing the message itself carried meaning.

‘Master is in a critical situation.’

The stronger a Corrosion Entity, the more it disrupted the surrounding mana flow with its interference, making long-distance communication between Mages through mana impossible in areas occupied by such entities.
The problem was that the person presumed to have sent this message—her teacher—was far beyond the level of an ordinary Mage.
The fact that such a teacher’s message had become severely corrupted conveyed tremendous information to her all by itself.

“General! Urgent message! We need to change course immediately!”

Seoa rushed to the Hive Hornet’s Command Center and immediately delivered the decoded message to the General.
The General then turned to her with a grave expression.

“Is that really what it says?”
“…Probably.”
“So you’re not certain.”

Seoa found herself struggling to explain what she had sensed.
It was extraordinarily difficult to convey a message perceived through a Mage’s unique intuition to a Civilian like the General.
As she wrestled with this dilemma, she waved her hands and conjured a complex, distorted phantom before the General—like a Magic Eye illusion.

“If I express the sensation I felt as an image, it looks something like this.”
“To me, it just looks like meaningless scribbling.”
“No, look here, and here too. And here.”

Even as Seoa gestured to specific areas, the General could discern no particular message.

“It still just looks like a stain to me.”
“That’s because it’s written in a language you don’t know. And even this isn’t an accurate representation. The fluctuation of mana flow is far too complex a concept to express through letters or images. Should I call it ticklish? Unnatural? In any case, it’s a flow of mana that could never occur naturally—a method of conveying messages that only Mages can perceive.”
“So it’s an encrypted message that enemies cannot decipher?”
“Not quite. The whole point is to create a sense of wrongness that compels interpretation. To explain simply… it’s an odd analogy, but if you ran your pants through the washing machine and found torn paper inside, you’d think, ‘Oh, I must have left a piece of paper in my pocket.'”
“That would be the natural conclusion.”
“But what if radioactive material came out of the washing machine instead? You wouldn’t assume you’d washed it with your pants, would you?”
“No, you wouldn’t. Because that would be unnatural.”
“That sense of unnaturalness is what this message conveys.”

Though General MacFarlane still struggled to fully grasp her explanation, he could sense with absolute certainty that she was being sincere.
And if these words came from Seoa, Sung-jun’s only disciple, they were an anomaly far too significant to dismiss.
Realizing the General had chosen to trust her, Seoa immediately relayed what she believed her Teacher had conveyed.

“The rendezvous point has changed, and Atlas is currently under a full-scale assault by enemies?”
“Based on my interpretation, yes. Given the degree of corruption in the mana message, there should be at least seven or more Level 8-class large Corrosion Entities among the enemy forces.”
“Is there any possibility this message itself is a trap?”
“If it were a trap, they would have conveyed it in a way we could understand more easily. This is a message delivery method so complex that even other Mages would struggle to recognize it. So much so that even I, his sole disciple, couldn’t tell if this was a message or merely a distortion of mana.”
“You’re saying Sung-jun sent a message so complex that even his own disciple might not understand it? What would he do if you truly couldn’t decipher it?”
“I don’t think he would have done so without consideration. After all, even I wasn’t certain this was his message until I decoded it.”

As Seoa waved her hand, the tangled scribble—as if multiple colors of ink were dissolving in water—began to revert to a definite form, as though time itself were rewinding.
And moments later, beneath the restored phantom with gaps and holes throughout its middle sections, faintly written characters began to emerge into view.

‘I trust you.’

It was a sentence laden with Sung-jun’s faith—not in anyone else in the world, but in Seoa, his personally trained disciple, believing that no matter what happened, she could restore the corrupted message.

“…Changing our destination.”
“General!”

The Adjutant and his skeptical officers tried to dissuade the General from this course.
If the message Seoa had received was merely her misunderstanding, there was a possibility they would face the enemy’s vast forces with only Hive Hornet, unable to rendezvous with Atlas in the worst-case scenario.
Yet the General believed in the unique teacher-disciple relationship between Sung-jun and Seoa—one that appeared outwardly indifferent on the surface but was bound together by an unwavering faith in one another that surpassed all else.

“From this moment forward, Hive Hornet will advance at full speed toward the coordinates she provided. Our objective is to protect and recover Atlas, which is surrounded by enemy forces. All crew members are to assume combat positions immediately.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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