But to take the Berserk Potion here—

That was, anyhow, somewhat premature.

Everyone understood that the potion symbolized a desperate gamble; why else would such a decision be made if not in a situation of utmost peril? They just had to look at the boundless Sea of the Undead to understand how resolute this command was.

Everything had been going smoothly before, but suddenly the situation took a drastic turn for the worse.

People held their breath as if they had just realized that, should the people in the scene fail, Fenris Isle would become a name in history that very day. And they hadn't even considered that this was about more than a hundred thousand lives, countless families—husbands, wives, and their children.

All would turn to ashes.

The people of Silver Weslan hesitated momentarily, but still instinctively chose to follow Fang Hong's orders, because ever since they had begun collaborating, he had rarely made a poor decision.

Even though they were not from the same Guild.

Yet, these knights unexpectedly found that they had grown accustomed to such command from this Captain.

He might not be omnipotent, but he was at least honorable.

People tilted their heads back and downed the Berserk Potion.

Moments later, they looked up, their eyes seemingly aflame with golden-red rage, a boundless fury erupting from within that transformed into tangible attributes on the panel, immediately reflecting in the knights' advancing onslaught.

The significantly increased attack power and speed compensated for the slight loss in precision, and the Undead suddenly realized their adversaries had transformed—though they might not possess such cognitive abilities. The vast armies of skeletal frames and Corpse Ghosts fell like harvested wheat stalks, one after another.

However, after a brief pause, the forces of Silver Weslan finally picked up speed once again, cleaving through the ocean of the Undead.

They began to move forward.

Beneath the screen, the crowd finally let out a cheer, but it wasn't very enthusiastic, as everyone understood that over the current smooth progress loomed a shadow of clouds, signaling the dense thicket of thorns that were yet to come.

There were still two isles to pass through.

How should they cross them?

But Fang Hong's face grew serious, his mind not wandering far; his sole focus was on how to advance faster. He glanced at his pocket watch; quite some time had already been wasted during this breakout, seven minutes had passed, and less than two-thirds of the time remained.

He looked up, silently estimating the distance ahead—due to the previous earthquake, this relic had been split in half by a fissure with no paths across it, and to advance beneath the fissure would likely waste even more time.

Fortunately, there were some High Towers near the fissure; he had planned early on to use these towers as bridges. He was pulling the Papalarians over to ask if they could use the Explosive Crossbow Bolts to blast the towers from a specified direction.

If that wasn't feasible, they would have to set the explosives upon getting closer.

Parker indeed shook his head repeatedly; the Explosive Shot, although one of the top-damaging skills below level 15, was still not enough to easily collapse a solid stone building, not to mention rank three Chosen—there were probably very few with such capability.

Fang Hong frowned; the military supplies included a large batch of Explosive Crystals, using these to bring down the towers upon getting closer was feasible, but that would cause considerable delay.

The duration of the Berserk Potion was limited after all, and he worried that the enhanced state might not last that long.

However, as he was considering an alternative, a strong light suddenly flashed on one of the High Towers beyond the fissure ahead, causing all to pause. Then they saw a golden-red beam shoot across the battlefield, landing among the Undead.

The fire trailed a long tail of flames, and the moment it hit the ground, it exploded into a golden inferno, transforming dozens of Corpse Ghosts within it to ashes, the shockwave knocking down surrounding Undead as well.

"Fireball Technique!"

Fang Hong unexpectedly looked up.

A moment later, he saw a group of Invokers run out on the broken street above the fissure; they seemed to have had preparations in place, using ropes to pull down a Spire in that direction.

The Spire groaned under its burden, then with a thunderous crash, it fell across the fissure, its tip reaching just enough to the cliff on this side to form a bridge across the gap.

The Invokers then hurriedly waved in that direction.

"Quick!"

The opponent both yelled and jumped, shouting:

"Brothers of Silver Weslan, come over!"

Fang Hong stood frozen in place. He initially wanted to ask loudly who they were, but suddenly he closed his mouth.

He raised his hand, slightly lifting the Control Gloves upwards, sending a command toward the sky above the Abyss—

It wasn't just him.

Everyone beneath the light screen, through the magnified image, saw the emblem on the chests of those people—a light yellow, like amber, shining with the brilliance of stars, and its shape was actually a scaled-down model of a Stargate Ring.

Not only the Invokers, but the Natives also knew the name of this emblem—Stargate Ring.

As for these people, who they were, what their names were, it suddenly didn't seem so important anymore. Because everyone understood that when they wore this emblem, they actually had only one identity left.

They were born of the "Stargate Declaration."

They were all Invokers.

They were the Pioneers who passed through the Stargate, carrying the ideals of humanity.

"Look!"

Suddenly, someone shouted in the square of Golande.

Only then did people see that, under Fang Hong's control, the viewpoint of the Clockwork Fairy had somehow risen and brought the scenes atop the surrounding rock pillar ruins into view—people could see many individuals emerging from various directions, walking onto the Light Bridge, converging in this direction.

In the elevated vision, these Invokers appeared as tiny as ants.

But people couldn't agree in their hearts.

They didn't feel that it was insignificant; instead, they felt it was somewhat sublime.

And suddenly, the emergency command center communication channel was filled with various accents, coming from different places.

"Invoker ID079052163H, this is Paradise Fallen, we have seen your people!"

"Invoker ID079043992H, I am Slvas, yes, the same Slvas, the enemy is numerous, but I will speed up as much as I can."

"Friends of Silver Weslan, hang in there, we are almost there!"

Everyone in the hall quietly listened to these intermittent communications.

The officers all solemnly removed their hats, holding them silently in front of their chests.

These voices varied in tone; some even carried a bit of dialect pronunciation, some high-pitched, some deep, some serious, some flippant, but no matter which type, they all conveyed a common meaning:

We are still here, choosing to fight alongside you.

And not choosing to leave, or give up.

Although situated at the heart of the battlefield, the knights of Silver Weslan suddenly felt a bit of peace inside; they listened to the rustling sounds of communication from various channels. Although the duration of the Berserk Potion was nearly half past, its effect seemed to be beginning to wear off.

But none of them felt the slightest weakness; on the contrary, they seemed to vaguely sense a spirit of bravery and fearlessness emanating from some tender place deep within.

Fang Hong picked up the Communication Crystal and replied softly:

"This is Silver Weslan."

"We are here."

...

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