Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory-Chapter 902: When the Battlefield Held Its Breath

Almost the moment the enemy began to mobilize, Ethan had already completed his pre-battle deployment.

Every Sky Fortress was launched into position, forming a layered defensive array in the upper atmosphere. Long-range artillery, spatial interference nodes, and energy shields activated in perfect sync.

War machines were grouped and standing by. The outer perimeter of Emerald Castle shifted into full lockdown—maximum alert.

Ethan knew Drake wouldn’t give them another chance to breathe.

The battle was coming. Sooner than later.

By the time the final Sky Fortress locked into place, the distant sky had already begun to refract unnaturally.

Spatial fluctuations surged.

The Phoenix Empire’s main fleet had arrived at the edge of the battlefield.

Massive warships advanced slowly, their metallic hulls gleaming with cold, merciless light.

Their energy engines roared like thunder, each pulse adding to the crushing pressure that blanketed the air.

Drake stood atop the flagship’s deck, surrounded by chaotic, unstable energy currents. His aura was more volatile than ever.

"A low-tier Plane World dares defy the Drakar Empire?" His voice boomed across the sky, amplified through the fleet’s broadcast array.

"Then today, I’ll show you what real war looks like."

With that, he raised his hand and hurled a tightly compressed spatial energy sphere toward the center of the battlefield.

The sphere detonated midair.

Space tore open.

And from the rift, a flood of figures poured out like a tidal wave.

But this wasn’t a conventional army.

These warriors came in all forms—some wrapped in multi-elemental sigils, others radiating raw physical pressure from heavily enhanced bodies. A few carried stable Fairy-type energy circuits, casting spells in rapid succession with almost no cooldown.

Yet as Ethan locked onto them through high-magnification sensory systems, he noticed something off.

Their eyes were vacant. Movements precise, but devoid of emotion.

These weren’t autonomous combatants.

They were a disposable puppet legion—force-controlled, mass-produced for attrition warfare.

"He’s trying to drown us in numbers," Ethan muttered, instantly reading the tactic.

No hesitation.

He issued the counterattack order.

Mechanoid units and goblin battalions surged from the defensive lines, launching a full-frontal assault on the enemy vanguard.

The two forces collided in the skies above.

The first clash detonated instantly.

Elemental blasts, kinetic impacts, and spatial distortions layered over one another. Explosions lit the sky in rapid succession. Shockwaves tore through the air. Spatial fractures spiderwebbed across the battlefield—but the defense grid’s stabilizers kicked in fast, sealing the cracks before they could spread.

Wreckage and debris rained down like a storm.

The ground shook with every impact.

The battlefield devolved into a brutal war of attrition.

The enemy relied on sheer numbers and constant reinforcement to press the line, while Emerald Castle countered with precision firepower and structural superiority, clearing the field wave by wave.

Both sides were burning through resources at a terrifying pace.

No retreat.

No probing.

This was a full-force collision of war machines and willpower.

Victory would go to whoever lasted longer.

As the number of aerial combatants began to thin, the battle slowly ground into a deadlock.

Ethan stood on the command platform, his expression more grim than ever.

At their current rate of attrition, his carefully constructed mechanoid formations—and the goblin legions summoned at great cost—would be completely wiped out in a matter of minutes.

That was a price he couldn’t afford.

He took a deep breath, ready to issue the order for a full-force push—

Then the air dropped.

Not just in temperature.

The entire battlefield seemed to freeze—energy flow, motion, even sound—all locked in a sudden, suffocating stillness.

At the center of the chaos, a figure appeared in silence.

Ice-blue, ethereal.

Queen Elowen.

No one had seen her arrive, but there she was—hovering in the heart of the clash, her long hair and robes drifting gently in the cold current. Frost crystals formed beneath her feet, suspended in midair.

The tempo of the entire battlefield slowed, like someone had slammed the brakes on reality.

"A swarm of mindless puppets dares to run wild here?"

Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried—clear and sharp through the spreading cold.

"In that case—"

"Let me show you what true absolute frost looks like."

The moment the words left her lips, her aura detonated outward.

Ice-blue sigils flared behind her, and a pair of massive wings—formed entirely from condensed frost energy—unfolded with regal grace.

The cold surged like a tidal wave.

First layer—air froze solid.

Second layer—energy flow stalled.

Third layer—physical structures began to crystallize.

The puppet army at the front didn’t even have time to react. Their movements locked mid-stride, bodies flash-frozen into towering arrays of ice sculptures.

Frost spread along their energy circuits, sealing the entire frontline in a matter of seconds.

Ethan’s pupils narrowed.

He knew Queen Elowen had been in deep seclusion within the glacial mines since joining Emerald Castle, rarely appearing on the front lines.

But the power she was unleashing now—her aura had stabilized at Tier 32, mid-stage.

And it was still climbing, pressing against the upper threshold.

She wasn’t just a combatant.

She was a walking domain of absolute cold.

Then—almost in sync—

A beam of pure, radiant light tore through the clouds above, splitting the sky open.

Holy Light Force descended like divine judgment, striking the frozen puppet formation with pinpoint precision.

The ice sculptures shattered under the brilliance, disintegrating into fine motes of glowing dust—erased completely.

A double strike.

In seconds, a massive chunk of the battlefield was cleared.

Ethan held his breath.

He’d always given the queens maximum autonomy, never forcing them into battle.

But when it truly mattered—

They always stepped forward.

In a way, they were Emerald Castle’s deepest trump cards.

Far across the field, Drake’s face darkened.

That entire puppet legion—obliterated in moments. It was far beyond what he’d anticipated.

Rage overtook reason.

"All units—push forward!" he snarled.

Several commander-class units broke formation, launching toward the heart of the battlefield at high speed.

But before they could even reach the front—

A wave of blood-red flame erupted across the sky.

Phoenix Queen Ignara appeared at the front lines, her Undying Flame surging like a crimson sea, engulfing every incoming target.

This wasn’t just fire.

It carried judgment. Purification.

Each flame struck with purpose, erasing those who had once betrayed her—one by one.

Ignara’s gaze was cold. Unshaken.

No mercy.

No hesitation.

In the span of a few heartbeats, the fire consumed everything.