Instead of one or two infection points that could have been contained, there were now dozens of different sites where golden spores began expanding throughout the army.
The transformation was devastating to witness. What had been orderly formations just minutes before now resembled a patchwork of chaos, each infection site creating its own circle of disruption that rippled outward like stones thrown into still water.
"Situation report!" Kharzan roared while watching his ordered formation convert into multiple chaos zones.
His voice carried across the command area with the desperate expression of a leader watching his plans crumble in real time. The sound of distant screaming and confusion provided a grim backdrop to his demands for information.
"We estimate between thirty and forty successful impact points," Valdris reported, quickly consulting the messages that kept arriving with relentless frequency. "The infection is beginning to expand from each point."
Each messenger brought news worse than the last. The coordination of the enemy attack had been flawless, striking simultaneously at points specifically chosen to maximize disruption.
"Containment capacity?"
The question hung in the air like a death sentence waiting to be pronounced.
"Limited, my Lord. We don’t have sufficient abyssal soldiers to handle so many simultaneous outbreaks of infection."
The mathematics of the situation were brutally simple. Five hundred abyssal tamers distributed across forty infection points meant barely a dozen soldiers per outbreak. It was woefully inadequate for the scale of contamination they were facing.
Kharzan felt how the situation slipped beyond his control. What had begun as a manageable problem, one hundred infected soldiers in a single área, had now become a crisis potentially affecting thousands of his men.
The weight of command had never sensed heavier.
"Options?" he asked, though he already knew the options had become drastically limited.
The pause before anyone answered told him everything he needed to know about how dire their circumstances had become.
"We can try to create quarantine zones around each outbreak," Chilong Zhao suggested, his voice carefully measured to hide his own growing concern. "But that would completely fragment our formations."
"Or we can order general retreat and..." Strahlfang added, his words trailing off as he saw Kharzan’s expression.
"And abandon our advance?!" Kharzan interrupted, unable to hide his frustration. The purple veins in his neck stood out as anger warred with desperation. "Let Yano recover all the ground we’ve gained!?"
The thought of retreat after everything they had risked in this campaign was unbearable.
Julius had played brilliantly.
It was exactly the type of coordinated tactic that converted apparent victories into devastating defeats. The kind of bio-weapons and strategy that military academies would talk about for decades, assuming anyone survived to teach the lessons learned here.
And while Kharzan struggled to find a response to the expanding crisis...
The war had fundamentally changed in a matter of minutes, and not in his favor.
♢♢♢♢
Selphira was completely equipped and ready for the final battle.
Her specialized face mask, reinforced gloves, and lightweight replaceable ice armor protected her against any residual contamination from the spores they had used to weaken the enemy.
She had verified each piece of equipment Ren had provided, making sure nothing would interfere with her mobility during the coming combat.
The gear felt strange against her skin, a reminder that this war had evolved beyond traditional beast-against-beast combat into something involving weapons that could kill indiscriminately. It was an adaptation born of necessity, but it left a bitter taste in her mouth.
She was ready to enter and search for Kharzan in the middle of his diseased army and end this war once and for all.
The promise she had made burned in her chest like a flame that refused to be extinguished.
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