Chapter 210: The broken blade legion decree.
That was the final yell from one of the soldiers.
Blood...
Blood everywhere over this scene.
Corpses?
There were none as these gigantic creatures hunted without sparing any leftovers, they were swallowed and turned into snacks.
The scene shifted in an instant.
From the blood-slick street to the heart of power.
A sprawling city lay spread across the horizon, its crown a colossal tree that seemed to pierce the sky itself.
The trunk was a fortress, bark like blackened steel, roots the size of city blocks sinking deep into the earth.
Its canopies stretched far enough to blot out the sun in places, each leaf the size of a small house.
The branches bore not fruit, but stone and iron, fortified buildings nested in the greenery, connected by vast staircases, bridges, and lift platforms.
From those high perches, the city looked like it hung suspended between earth and clouds.
This was no common stronghold.
This was the Giant Green City, the domain of the Broken Blade Legion.
Across the massive walkways, enormous figures in green, angular armor moved with the same deliberate weight as war engines.
Their shadows stretched long over the bridges as they patrolled, their presence towering!
The view tightened, following a single figure pounding across the planked causeway of a high bridge.
His armor bore fresh dents, mud still clinging to the greaves.
Breath hissed hard through his helm’s vents.
He crossed the last walkway to the very top level of the tree, where an arched gate stood under carved reliefs.
The heart of the Giant Green City. The headquarters of the Broken Blade Legion.
He didn’t pause.
“Reporting in!” His voice boomed even before he reached the chamber’s threshold.
The door split open, a mechanical clunk, and the warrior stepped into a vast conference hall.
A long, black stone table stretched the center, flanked by massive chairs.
Around it sat several figures, each a meter taller and imposing than the one who had just arrived.
The faint glow of crimson visors turned toward him in unison.
A low thoom echoed as the doors sealed behind him.
From the head of the table, a figure leaned forward slightly.
A heavy green cloak draped his massive shoulders, marking him immediately apart from the others.
His helmet bore a crest of serrated plating, and even seated, his figure towered over the rest.
The soldier dropped to one knee. “Reporting to the Commander, numerous task orders are flooding in from every branch across the region.”
"We are currently unsure what's happening, the input from each tasks are urgent as we speak."
The commander’s voice was deep and unhurried, even through the modulator. “The mortals are asking for help?”
"The cities where our branches are?"
“Yes, Commander. Urgent help.” The soldier rose, stepping forward with heavy strides, and placed a square device onto the table’s center. “You need to see this.”
The commander gestured, and the device came alive, projecting a wavering blue holo-field above the table.
The images were enough.
A sprawling city in ruin. Streets choked with rubble and blood.
Towering human-like titans roamed freely, their skin cracked and pallid, jaws working lazily as they plucked screaming humans from the ground and bit into them as if eating stalks of cabbage.
The person who was recording this seemed to be in an extreme fear, the perspective shaking.
Then, the perspective suddenly turned as a huge face appeared into their views.
The scene ended.
“This,” the warrior spoke, “is one of the most distant reports we’ve received from the mortal staff stationed at our branch there.”
“and these… things… are appearing everywhere. We have similar requests for aid from multiple cities.”
"And the numbers are increasing rapidly."
He paused only to steady his tone. “Commander, these titans came from nowhere. No trace, no known origin.”
“But they’ve begun an all-out assault on the human race.”
“We have approximately hundreds of separated branches across the region. And half of them are requesting help from the headquarters.”
The other warriors, the Commander’s chosen Tier 5 lieutenants, sat rigid. One leaned forward, voice low and seething.
“They move like they own the land. A full scale invasion? Wouldn't the other lords notice this and do something?"
"We can't rely on them... and I doubt that feminine male weirdo will be interested to lend us a helping hand either. The Lord's armies are focusing on assimilation currently."
Another, arms folded, muttered, “We shouldn't be worried about the nearby cities for now. The shadow armies are stationed nearby, scattered within the 1000 kilometers around us. I doubt Lord Saka would be foolish enough not to send help."
"Then, for those distant places. We need to send help, this is in line with our creator's wishes."
"A full scale invasion across the region? Titans?"
"Perhaps, this would be a good chance for us to establish a proper influence outside."
"That's for the high table to decide, the true lords are still hesitating."
The commander said nothing at first, only narrowing his eyes behind the visor.
Then, slowly, he rose.
The air in the chamber seemed to grow heavier as the green cloak shifted across his shoulders.
His voice carried the weight of finality.
"Then..."
“Under my order, deploy the Broken Blade Legion to every city in these reports. No delays.”
He turned, glancing at each of the lieutenants in turn.
“We will not allow these beasts to touch what our Creator has chosen to bless. Burn them from the streets. Leave nothing that can crawl back.”
The holo-display flickered across his armor, casting sharp shadows.
“Cleanse them.”
The words dropped like a gavel.
All at once, the seated warriors straightened, their voices thundering in unison.
“At once, Commander!”
---
The plain stretched out in every direction, flat and unbroken except for the ripple of tall, dry grass that bent and swayed under the push of the wind.
It was the kind of open ground where nothing could hide, and where those who crossed it had nowhere to run.
A column of ten massive figures moved across it in steady, deliberate strides.
The Broken Blade Legion warriors.
Even at a distance, they didn’t look like ordinary soldiers.
Each stood at least three meters tall, their frames so heavily plated in greenish steel that they seemed less like men and more like walking tree fortresses.
The armor bore scrapes and long grooves from old battles, some repaired, some left as they were, as if the scars were a part of the design.
On their right thighs hung bolter guns, massive, boxy weapons with reinforced barrels, their weight making the heavy belts creak with each step.
Across their backs were strapped war axes almost as tall as an average man, the axe heads double-bladed and thick enough to split through stone.
The wind pressed against them, carrying the distant smell of smoke.
The captain walked at the front of the group, helmet crest chipped from years of service.
He didn’t slow his pace as he spoke, his voice coming through the vox-grille of his helm in a deep, steady tone.
Captain: “Orders from above. Target is the River side city, 300 kilometers from the 1000 kilometers sphere. It’s under titan control, an unknown race.”
“Objective one, cleanse the city. Objective two, rescue the citizens. Objective three, investigate."
One of the soldiers toward the middle raised his head slightly, visor catching the light.
“Any details on the titans so far?”
The captain gave a slow shake of the head.
“Not much. Reports say huge and abnormally thick skin.”
A grunt passed through the comms.
"We are going in blind?"
The captain didn’t hesitate.
“Correct. Eradicate. Every last one.”
They kept walking.
The grass hissed around their greaves, flattened under each deliberate step.
The pace was quick, quicker than a casual march, but no one wasted movement.
Somewhere else as this was happening.
Inside a certain lord territory, the castle.
The throne room was drowning in shadows.
The pale light filtering through the tall, dust-filmed windows turned everything into shades of grey, the polished marble floor, the massive pillars, even the ornate gold of the throne itself.
A man in a lavish, gem-studded robe was on the ground, his face slick with sweat, his body trembling violently under the weight of a single armored boot pressed against his chest.
“Y–you! You shouldn’t be here!” His voice cracked, words spilling over one another in panic. “You shouldn’t be here! How did you get here?!”
The boot pressed down harder.
Bone ground against bone.
His scream broke into a guttural groan as his back arched, the sharp crk-crk of twisting vertebrae echoing through the chamber.
The voice above him was calm, too calm.
“As an accomplice to the twisted thing that dares to conquer our world… you are bold indeed, thinking you could escape my judgment.”
“You!!” the fat man choked, his face mottling red.
BOOM!
The floor beneath them fractured into a spiderweb of cracks, marble chunks breaking free.
Dust billowed up, swirling in the air, making the chandeliers sway overhead.
Along the walls, maids and butlers clung to pillars, their knuckles white, eyes wide with the terror of prey caught in the wrong room.
The figure on the throne, until now silent, rose.
He moved with deliberate slowness, the weight of his presence filling the room.
His expression was unreadable, gaze fixed through the settling dust.
“As a lord of our world,” he said, voice low and cold, “you sold your own species for a handful of… benefits.”
From somewhere in the haze, a wet, choking laugh emerged.
“Y–you know… Bahshshs—”
A gauntleted hand lifted. The dust split and fell away as if swept aside by invisible currents.
What it revealed was wrong.
The man in the lavish robe was gone, or rather, what remained of him was something else entirely.
His lower body writhed with slick, black tentacles, each tip pulsing faintly.
His torso remained human, but his skin was the color of old parchment, his mouth twisted unnaturally wide into an eel-like smile.
His eyes glowed dark red.
“The Great Old One,” the creature hissed, “granted me eternal life… at the price of sacrificing my own kind. How,” the grin widened, “could I refuse such a gift?”
The pale figure standing over him tilted his head slightly.
“And for you to survive that trap…” The creature’s laugh bubbled up again, unsettlingly wet. “I didn’t expect it. No—I didn’t expect it at all. Word is… several True Lords are hunting you down. Hahaha, Adrian... The white walker... "
“I suppose I’m just a fast runner,” the tall figure replied, voice as flat as iron.
Then his head lowered slightly, the air around him tightening. “Enough. Die.”
The creature’s tentacles slammed down, cracking the marble again. “I won’t die!!!”
"You tried to have someone that you shouldn't, Hahahaha... and because of you, our world was punished Hahahaha!"
"Adrian!!!!"
The pale figure’s gauntlets flexed, light catching on the faint frost blooming across their surface.
The tension split the air in two.
Outside, the clouds churned. Somewhere deep in the bowels of the hall, the temperature dropped.