Chapter 841: Metallic Silence

Chapter 841: Chapter 841: Metallic Silence

"Listen to me carefully," the Grand General’s voice turned cold. "Order them to keep the suspects inside the fortress. At this moment we cannot send reinforcements or inspect it personally; we have an extreme situation on the Golden Dragon main front and the three emperors are mobilizing their main forces. But I will go check it out myself as soon as I wrap this up."

"Understood, Grand General," replied the Logistics General. "How should Vane proceed with the crew to avoid a premature clash?"

"Tell them to feed them and give them drink," commanded the Grand General. "Serve them well, deploy supplies, and do not raise the slightest suspicion. But under no circumstances are they to be allowed to leave the Two Gorges Fortress or cross the dome into the empire’s interior until I arrive to verify Soren’s identity."

"I will transmit the order to Vane immediately," assured the Logistics General.

Upon receiving the encrypted directive straight from the Capital, General Vane let out a breath, though the knot in his gut tightened.

"Offer them hospitality... banquet and provisions," whispered Vane, staring at the golden communication rune fading on his console. "The Grand General thinks this is a simple political game."

He turned toward his officers, his eyes cold.

"You heard the order," commanded Vane. "Deactivate the secondary docking bay locks. Open hangar three’s inner gates and instruct the quartermasters to prepare rations and wine for the convoy. But keep the heavy mana batteries primed and locked onto every single ship."

"Understood, General!" replied the chief officer, transmitting the commands across the base network.

A mechanical groan echoed through the mountain as the hydraulic locks holding hangar three disengaged. Inside the docking bay, thousands of garrison soldiers stood lined up alongside logistics teams, pushing platforms loaded with casks of spirits and roasted beasts toward the row of docked warships.

On the gantry above, the garrison lieutenant raised his runic loudspeaker, his voice reverberating through the hall:

"Attention, General Soren’s division! By order of Fortress Commander General Vane, you are granted dock privileges and access to the mountain mess halls! Open your primary disembarkation hatches to receive provisions!"

Silence answered him.

The heavy hulls of the hundreds of warships hovered in absolute stillness. Not a single hatch opened. Not a single ramp descended. The hum of the ships’ engines remained at a low, threatening idle.

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

The quartermasters and soldiers waiting on the stone floor exchanged glances, shifting their weight as sweat pooled beneath their armor.

"What on earth are they doing?" grumbled one of the supply soldiers, lowering his crate. "Do they expect us to carry hundreds of barrels up their hulls by hand?"

"Look at the viewports," whispered a sergeant, pointing toward Soren’s flagship. "There’s no one up there. The bridge is dark."

High up in the control room, General Vane watched the holographic displays, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the railing.

"General... the convoy has not opened a single hatch," reported the comms officer, his voice trembling. "We have pinged their internal frequency seven times. No response, no disembarkation signal."

"They’re ignoring the disembarkation order?" asked Vane, his brow furrowed in anger and suspicion.

"Not just ignoring it, sir," chimed in the systems operator, typing across his console. "Their engine cores aren’t powering down. Internal mana readings across all three hundred vessels are slowly rising."

Vane didn’t hesitate.

"Get my guard," barked Vane. "I will inspect hangar three myself."

Accompanying two dozen armored Dao Manifestation elites, General Vane marched onto the upper walkway overlooking hangar three. The air inside the cavernous mountain bay felt stifling, thick with the scent of ozone and unspent fuel.

Vane stepped to the edge of the iron railing, his voice amplified by his spiritual power, booming across the hall: ℴ𝗆

"General Soren! This is General Vane speaking! You are inside the territory of the Pass of the Two Gorges! You were ordered to disembark your crew and present yourself before this command!"

His voice echoed off the black stone walls, dying out into silence.

Below, the garrison soldiers began taking steps back from the metal hulls.

"Open your hatches immediately!" shouted Vane, his patience shattering as his hand dropped onto the hilt of his sword. "I demand a verbal response from the commanding officer! If you continue to resist baseline military orders, you will be branded as hostile infiltrators!"

Still, no hatch opened. No voice answered.

"Sir...", whispered Vane’s deputy, drawing his blade. "Something is wrong. Look at the hull seals... those aren’t standard imperial energy signatures."

Sweat broke out across Vane’s forehead as he stared into the pitch-black viewport of the flagship. An overwhelming sense of dread screamed in his mind.

He raised his arm high into the air, his voice roaring with authority:

"All units, retreat from the landing bay!! Siege batteries, target the hulls!! Prepare to annihilate them on my mark—!!"

Before Vane’s arm could drop, a vibration shook the foundation of the mountain.

Across all three hundred warships, the dark viewports ignited at once—not with the golden light of the Divine Wind Empire, but with an abyssal purple fire.

"FIRE...!!" roared General Vane at the top of his lungs, bringing his arm down in desperation as he pointed toward the hulls engulfed in purple flames.

The access doors and landing ramps of all three hundred warships slammed open with a metallic crash. A black tide of undead surged from the interior like an unleashed plague, leaping onto the gantries and charging directly at the garrison soldiers.

The officers squeezed the triggers of the mana cannons and ordered the discharge of the heavy batteries.

Yet... nothing happened.

Not a single cannon echoed through the mountain walls. Not a single beam of energy erupted from the defensive turrets. The control panels for the heavy batteries flickered twice before turning purple and shutting down.

Deep inside the fortress’s main command center, the scene was a graveyard.

The intelligence officers, systems operators, and high-ranking guards lay scattered across the stone floor, their necks snapped or pierced by silent strikes. At the center of the room, illuminated solely by the glow of the holographic monitors, Ethan stood in silence, watching the central consoles execute thousands of lines of code at speed as Crul assumed total control over the pass’s defenses and systems.