As the ser beams from the battle mech armors seared the twilight sky, the Soulnaught army responded with a dispy of tactical brilliance.
Across the battlefield, rows of knights stood shoulder to shoulder, their armlinting uhe waning light. Eaight raised a hand towards the sky, palms outward, eling their Forbsp;
A shimmering barrier sprung to life, emanating from the gathered ranks. It was as if the very air thied, woven by invisible threads of raw energy harnessed from the depths of their collective resolve.
The barrier spread like a protective opy across the nd, a glowing dome that reflected the menag red of the sers overhead.
This magical shield pulsed with the heartbeat of the army, each wave of energy rippling across its surface abs the ser's fierce assault with a resonant hum.
The sight was mesmerizing—a dance of light and power where the raw force of teology met the steadfast spirit of an age-old magic.
As sers struck the barrier, brilliant sparks showered like a meteor rain, casting a surreal glow over the battlefield. The knights, rooted in their resolve, stood firm, their faces set in grim determination, safeguarding their nd against this storm of modern fury.
Well, it was to be expected for the Soulnaught empire. They were still one of the stro armies iire world after all.
Although it was eclipsed by the strength of their supreme ander, Emperor Burn, they never scked iraining, and were occasionally trained by Burn himself…
…like today.
“STAND STRONG, KNIGHTS!” the ander's voice thundered across the ranks, rallying the troops.
“WE HOLD THIS LINE!” another bellowed in response, reinf their resolve.
“I-I ’t… the sers are to…” a young knight stammered, overwhelmed by the power he faced.
“THEY’RE STROHAN ANY WE'VE SEEN BEFORE!” firmed a veteran, his tone edged with urgency.
“HOLD YROUND, DO NOT FALTER!” came the anding shout, pushing them to maintain their defense.
“I’m new… I’m sorry…” muttered a fresh recruit, his voiearly lost in the chaos.
“TIGHTEN UP, RECRUITS!” a grizzled sergeant snapped back, “STRAIGHTEN YOUR BACKS AND STEEL YOUR WILL!”
“HIS MAJESTY WARNS OF TWO MORE ASSAULTS! PREPARE FOR ANOTHER ROUND!” reyed an officer, his words slig through the air with sharp precision, preparing them for the tinuing onsught.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”
BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAST!
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!”
BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAST!
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH—”
…
“Good wahad. You took care of our army well,” Burn praised. “They held up well.”
“T-thank you, Your Majesty…”
Gahad's entire frame shook with the immense burden he bore. Despite the collective might of the knights, each eling their Force to fortify the group, Gahad stood as the lin of their defense.
His own Force, more potent and expahan any other, spread out far and wide, creating a vast shield that enveloped his rades.
This protective dome was the primary barrier against the relentless barrage, with Gahad at its core, eling his energy to safeguard the lives depending on him.
“Three attacks had been uhis is my turn now,” Burn said.
Burn jumped to the sky.
The twenty shiny new battle mech armors were each powered by a miniature fusioor that promised all the razzle-dazzle of modern warfare teology.
With the ability to fire ten secutive ser beams that could dazzle aroy, these mechs were the envy of every warmonger with a pent for overkill.
However, like an er sprinter who dashes too fast too soon, these metallic beasts had their limits.
After their impressive dispy of pyroteics, the meeeded a little dowhey were akin to high-powered athletes who, after a spectacur performance, must retreat to their fancy coolis.
The reactors, having thrown a temper tantrum of nuclear proportions, would overheat, making any further a a risky proposition.
With a third of their fuel depleted—a pricey sip of their atomic cocktails—the mechs would then sulk in a mandatory cool-off period.
During this time, they resembled nothing more than oversized wn ors, requiring a bit of setup before they could stumble to their feet again.
Truly, Veryon had bought himself an armada of capricious prima donnas of the battlefield, each as high-maintenance as they were destructive.
Thus, a seasoned ander would’ve saved these ten secutive ser beams for the end of their battle as a their trump card.
Pying it as their first move… Well, if they went against some random army, they might be able to elimihem all…
But they were fighting against Soulnaught—and Emperor Burn, in flesh.
“It’s all thanks to my knowledge from the other loops…”
Burn was the one who defended against these mechs in his previous loops. But now, he decided to make sure his army could also gain bes from it.
For the experience… and training.
“Today, my army defend against three secutive beams. I’ll make sure they’ll be able to defend against ten beams ime.”
TAP!
Landing on a transparent ptform he created with his force, Burn stood to defend against another seven secutive ser beams.
Alone.
With each trated fury of atomic fire, the beams surged toward him. Burn raised his hand, his golden eyes shone even brighter than the power of the shooting stars ung at him.
“Such a waste of energy… should I just… absorb it?” Burn muttered.
BLAAAAAAAAAAAST!
….ZZZZZZZZTTT!
Each beam that struck him was met with a barrier of shimmering energy that he not only resisted but began to draw into himself, st the vast power within.
Then, it was the creation of the sun.
Abs the relentless heat of the ser beams, an awe-inspiring transformation unfolded before the witnesses.
A swirling mass of gas and dust, remi of the a sor nebu, began to coalesd colpse uhe sheer force of its own new-found gravity.
With each beam Burn absorbed, the cloud spun faster, fttening into a vast, spinning disk—a ice of energy and matter pying out in the midst of battle.
With a masterful dispy of his Force abilities, Burn orchestrated this celestial phenomenon, guiding the bulk of this frenzied energy toward the disk’s ter.
There, it densed into a sun, a marvel of pressed energy so potent a so trolled that its immense heat became uable to all but Burn.
He enveloped this miniature sun with his Force, taining its power as effortlessly as one might cradle a bird in their hands.
This tiny orb of a sun, glowing fiercely yet tained, held the might of seven ser beams—a testament to Burn’s formidable power and his mastery over the forces both of magid the os.
It floated before him, a surprisingly—”Easy feat,” he whispered.
Veryon's son watched from his fortress, his initial smugness fading into a mix of horror and disbelief. His hands ched into fists, his fident facade crumbling as he withe ued turn of events.
Around him, his army shared in his shock, their morale faltering as they watched their formidable on turned into a mere tool for their adversary's empowerment.
Meanwhile, the Soulnaught army erupted in cheers and shouts of admiration. Their emperor, a lone figure against a backdrop of destructive force, was transf what should have been their doom into his own reservoir of power.
Their faces lit up with renewed vigor and awe, rallying behind Burn with a fervor that echoed across the battlefield. The sight of their leader, undaunted and ever-powerful, ihem with a fierce pride and a surge of fiden their cause and capabilities.
But also…
“Monster…”
“...demon…!”
“What kind of power is that…?!”
Gahad was one of them, who couldn’t help but to smile tiredly. “A huhousand men only defend against three attacks… but he…”
To Burn, the seven ser beams were mere trifles. They were pythings, hardly worthy of his formidable strength. He toyed with them effortlessly, abs their energy as easily as one might take a toy from a child.
Gahad ched his jaw, a smile breaking through. "God in the heavens... thank you for blessing us with such a formidable emperor to protect us."
