The Genius Mage Was Reincarnated Into A Swordsman Family-Chapter 187: The Mask Falls

"Defensive formation! Now!" Klaus's command cut through the stunned silence. Team 55 responded instantly, falling into a tight circle, their movements born of countless drills and battle-forged instinct. Leone's officers hesitated for barely a second before joining the formation, pride set aside in the face of immediate danger.

The Duke—or what remained of him—tilted his head at an impossible angle, neck bending with mechanical precision rather than organic fluidity. "Such predictable creatures," he said, his voice suddenly devoid of natural inflection. "Always resorting to steel when faced with progress."

Around them, the researchers and officials began to change. Their skin split along invisible seams, peeling away not like flesh but like a discarded glove. Beneath was not blood and muscle, but a glistening substance that resembled molten glass—translucent, with swirling patterns of alchemical symbols visible just beneath the surface.

"What are they?" one of Leone's officers whispered, his blade trembling slightly.

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Klaus studied the transforming figures with narrowed eyes. He had heard whispers during his previous life—forbidden alchemical research, experiments combining human flesh with artificial constructs. "Homunculi," he said, voice low enough that only those nearest could hear. "Artificial beings created through forbidden alchemy."

The implications were staggering. Not monsters from rifts, but manufactured beings—crafted with purpose, designed with intent.

"The exit is thirty paces behind us," Klaus continued, his mind calculating angles and distances. "Standard breach pattern. Alexandra, Juron—you take point with Crimson Divide. Leone, have your team execute Whirling Bastion on our flanks."

The familiar White Lion sword techniques steadied everyone's nerves. All elite squads in the White Lion armed group trained in these standardized combat maneuvers—a common tactical language that allowed different teams to coordinate seamlessly during joint operations. Klaus had drilled Team 55 relentlessly in these techniques until they could execute them flawlessly.

"On my mark," Klaus continued. "Three... two... one... execute!"

The breach began with devastating precision. Alexandra and Juron stepped forward in perfect sync, their blades tracing diverging arcs that converged at a single point—the signature motion of Crimson Divide, a standard White Lion technique designed to split enemy formations like an axe through wood. Cyan aura flared along Alexandra's rapier, leaving trails of light that momentarily blinded the nearest homunculi.

The artificial beings nearest the door recoiled as the synchronized technique created a shockwave that blasted them backward. Leone's team rotated around the flanks, their blades weaving an intricate pattern that formed a moving wall of steel—the Whirling Bastion, another standard White Lion formation that every elite squad practiced weekly during joint drills.

"Move!" Klaus ordered, directing the group toward the opening. They advanced with practiced efficiency, maintaining formation despite the disorienting surroundings.

The Duke observed with an expression that might have been amusement on his increasingly inhuman face. "You believe you can simply walk away?" he asked, his voice now carrying metallic overtones. "How... limited your understanding is."

They reached the doorway, their coordinated movements having cleared a path through the initial wave of homunculi. For a moment, it seemed almost too easy—as if their training had prepared them perfectly for this encounter.

Then one of the transformed researchers lunged forward with impossible speed, its hand—now resembling a crystalline blade—slicing through a Team 27 officer's armor like paper. Instead of blood, an opalescent fluid seeped from the wound, spreading throughout the man's visible veins with alarming speed.

"Don't let them wound you!" Leone shouted, pulling his officer back into formation.

Too late. The opalescent fluid reached the man's heart, then his brain. His eyes glazed over, then began to shift color—the whites turning black, the irises glowing with inner light. He turned on his comrades, movements now mechanical and precise.

"Cut him down!" Klaus ordered, recognizing the lost cause.

Another officer hesitated, then executed Swift Mercy—a clean technique taught to all White Lion soldiers for battlefield mercy killings, designed to ensure a painless death for fallen comrades. The converted officer's head separated from his body in a single stroke, the torso collapsing as the opalescent fluid continued to pump from the severed neck.

Despite this setback, they maintained their push into the corridor beyond the chamber. Klaus directed the formation with minimal commands—Team 55 responding to his signals with machine-like precision. Three months of intensive training was paying dividends in this crucial moment.

The corridor stretched before them, appearing momentarily clear. Hope flickered through the group—perhaps they could reach the perimeter gate before reinforcements arrived.

"We might actually make it," Leone said, voice tight with controlled tension.

The rune on Klaus's palm suddenly burned with unexpected intensity. A warning.

The corridor walls slid open with mechanical precision, revealing hidden chambers on both sides. From these compartments emerged more homunculi—dozens of them, stepping forward with perfect synchronization. Unlike the earlier specimens, these appeared fully formed—their false human exteriors already discarded, revealing bodies composed of the same translucent, symbol-inscribed substance. Some had multiple arms ending in bladed appendages. Others had no faces at all, just smooth surfaces with glowing runes where features should be.

Behind them, the creatures from the chamber poured through the doorway. Within seconds, they were surrounded, the tide turning from manageable to concerning.

"Second formation!" Klaus called. "Five-Point Star!"

Team 55 pivoted seamlessly into the defensive pattern taught to all White Lion squads for encirclement scenarios, forming a star pattern with fighters facing outward at five points. Leone's remaining officers filled the gaps without hesitation, recognizing the standard formation from their own training.

The first wave of homunculi crashed against their formation. Blades flashed, cutting through artificial limbs and torsos. A disturbing discovery quickly emerged—where cut, the homunculi leaked not blood but the same opalescent fluid they had witnessed corrupting their comrade. The substance hissed where it contacted steel, etching the metal like acid.

"Don't let the fluid touch you!" Klaus warned, noticing how a fighter's blade was already being compromised. "It corrupts whatever it touches!"

For precious minutes, they held their ground, fighting with the coordinated precision that had earned Team 55 its elite status. Every fighter covered their assigned zone, protecting their comrades' blind spots, maintaining the integrity of their formation.

But Klaus saw the inevitable approaching. For every homunculus they struck down, two more emerged from the hidden chambers. And worse, their conventional attacks seemed to inflict only temporary damage—severed limbs re-attaching, slashed torsos knitting back together through some form of accelerated alchemical reaction.

"We need to break through," he told Alexandra during a momentary lull. "This position isn't sustainable."

She nodded, her face glistening with sweat despite the corridor's unnatural chill. "Piercing Fang technique?"

"On my signal," Klaus confirmed.

Before he could give the command, a massive form flowed down the corridor toward them—the Duke, now completely transformed. His body had become a masterpiece of forbidden alchemy, human features melded with mechanical components and flowing, mercurial substances. Brass gears and crystalline tubes were visible beneath his translucent skin, pumping the opalescent fluid throughout his system. His face remained recognizable but had been bifurcated—half still resembling human flesh, the other half transformed into a perfect mechanical replica, down to the smallest detail.

"Your resistance is... expected," the entity said, its voice now clearly artificial, resonating from multiple points within its modified form. "All test subjects initially reject transcendence."

One of Leone's officers broke formation, charging the Duke with a desperate battle cry, executing the Tiger's Leap—a powerful standard technique from the White Lion advanced combat manual, designed to penetrate even the strongest defenses. His blade struck the creature's chest, sinking deep—then stopped, caught in the viscous substance of the Duke's body.

The transformed Duke smiled, the expression eerily perfect on his half-mechanical face. One hand—now resembling articulated brass and crystal—grasped the officer's wrist. Where they touched, the opalescent fluid flowed from the Duke into the officer's veins, visible beneath the skin as it spread rapidly throughout his system.

"Witness the gift of perfection," the Duke announced as the officer's body went rigid, then began to change—skin hardening, eyes glazing over, limbs stiffening as the alchemical transformation took hold.

In seconds, where a human had stood now towered another homunculus, its features halfway between human and artificial. It turned toward its former comrades, movements precise and mechanical.

"Leone!" Klaus shouted. "Piercing Fang, now!"

The commander understood immediately. This was one of the thirty core combat formations taught to all White Lion squad leaders during their tactical training. He positioned his remaining officers in a spear formation behind Klaus and Team 55's strongest fighters. With perfect synchronization, they executed the technique designed to breach impenetrable lines—a concentrated thrust of coordinated energy focused on a single point.

The formation surged forward, blades creating a synchronized wave of force that momentarily cleared a path through the homunculi. They advanced twenty paces in seconds, approaching a junction in the corridor where the path widened.

For a heartbeat, escape seemed possible again.

Then everything changed.

The Duke's transformed body suddenly accelerated, flowing down the corridor with impossible speed. He reached the junction first, his form expanding to block all possible exits. The opalescent fluid that composed much of his body spread across walls and ceiling, hardening into a crystalline barrier.

"Enough," he said, voice hardening to something completely mechanical. "The transformation proceeds. You will ascend or you will be harvested."

At his command, the corridor filled with pulsing light. The walls themselves opened completely, revealing not just more homunculi, but something far worse—vast chambers filled with transparent tanks. Within each floated a human body in various stages of transformation, opalescent fluid pumping through tubes connected to their veins.

"Behold the true purpose of Northwatch," the Duke announced, gesturing toward the horrific display. "Every citizen, every soldier, every visitor. All contributing to the great work. All becoming perfection."

The survivors of Teams 55 and 27 stared in horror at the scale of the operation surrounding them. Their manageable retreat had become a desperate last stand.

The Duke's half-human face smiled while his mechanical half remained expressionless. "We are merely the first success. Northwatch is just the beginning. The entire continent will achieve transcendence."

With terrifying speed, he raised his transformed hands. The opalescent fluid throughout his body glowed with increasing intensity, concentrating in his palms. Then he thrust forward, unleashing a torrent of the corrupting substance directly at the trapped fighters.

The rune on Klaus's palm burned like a brand pressed against his skin. The ring on his finger grew suddenly, intensely cold.

And then it began to change.