A fearsome human face slowly appeared in the air above the massive Jintha'Alor camp.
"Death, Plague, Ruin, Ablation; In the name of the Spirit of Pestilence, I curse you all."
The scary human face screamed in the most commonly used language of the ancient adepts– Gubaillestin. Supposedly, no elves should be able to understand the face. Yet, strangely enough, all the elves were able to comprehend those terrifying words as the loud and frustrating curses entered their ears.
The next second, the face crumbled and turned into motes of green light, lightly falling downward.
Up in the flying ship, Poison Hag Endor suddenly started coughing intensely. Her already hunched body shrunk even more. She lifted her head after a long while and displayed a 'tragic' smile in Greem's direction.
"The plague has been cast down through the curse. If you want to send someone in, it's best you have them come here and take an immunity rune first!"
Having said that, Endor nodded to the Spirit of Pestilence. The voodoo doll-like fellow stomped his feet while standing within the magical ring as three dozen yellow brooches shot out from within. These brooches all flew toward one of the adepts present.
The Crimson adepts and the Fate Witches grabbed the brooches and stuck them on their chests without any hesitation. The Dark Witches hesitated for a moment and put them on after finding no issues with their spiritual scans.
"Let's go; it is time for us to take the stage!"
Greem turned his head. Tigule, who had been standing on the side of the ship, chuckled, turned, and jumped into the Second Grade magical machine warrior Goblin Shredder that had been custom-made to his specifications. He roared and jumped down unhesitantly by grabbing onto a rope.
Zeng, zeng, zeng!
Much like dumplings thrown into the water, forty Archers and ten Shield Swordsmen magical machines followed tightly behind Tigule and jumped down along with him.
"Sisters, today is a good day for harvest. It's time we set out."
Dark Witch Uzzah cackled chillingly and rode on her flying broom along with her flock of dark witches. They quickly charged out of the flying ship.
"Let us go as well!" Alice's face was a little pale, but her expression was just as calm as ever, "This is also the first time you all will be stepping upon a planar battlefield. Be careful, and let's go!"
Even though Alice was concerned for the Fate Witches under her, she knew very well that they would never grow up if they didn't experience the trials of planar battlefields. Compared to the veteran Dark Witches, they were like rookie soldiers that had never touched a spear or seen the shade of blood.
Perhaps one or two of the Fate Witches would bid an eternal farewell to their companions after this battle, resting forever in these foreign lands. However, the remaining witches would be able to absorb nutrients from the blood of their enemy and their companions, becoming even stronger and more cautious.
As such, Alice looked upon the faces of every one of her companions with gentle yet determined eyes but said absolutely nothing in the end. She was the first to flip over the side of the ship and fly down.
Jintha'Alor was currently in chaos.
The ultra-large scale witch poison spell had brought about indescribable agony to the elves of Jintha'Alor.
All of the elves that had heard the roar and curse started shivering when the green sparks entered their bodies. Their spirits, stamina, resistances, endurance, and will were all corroded to varying degrees. The combat professionals that had completed advancement only felt some slight discomfort in their bodies. They could easily suppress this abnormality by raising their spirits.
However, the ordinary elves that lived in Jintha'Alor all collapsed the moment the green light entered their bodies. They started to twitch and convulse as if they had lost consciousness and control.
For a moment, all elven civilians across the Jintha'Alor camp were showing severe reactions to the poison curse!
The elves were thrown into disarray. They weren't sure whether to first save their tribesmen or to fight off the terrifying silhouettes that were quickly descending from the skies.
A few druids that had nature magic started to chant the Heal and Remove Disease spells loudly. Once their chant ended, beams of green light covered the tumbling tribesmen. The mighty powers of nature instantly expelled the plague viruses within their bodies, allowing them to recover.
Sadly, new green sparks entered their bodies the moment they stood up in their confusion. The people who had just recovered collapsed to the ground in agony once more and started howling in pain.
The druids raised their heads in shock. Expressions of hatred and resentment appeared on their faces when they saw the rain of green motes that continued to float down from the flying ship above.
Before they could roar and transform into birds and take to the skies, a druid elder stopped them.
"Don't be reckless. The enemy is coming on strong. We cannot split up and let them defeat us one by one. Go and meet up with Utas and the others."
From inside a giant tree hall at the waist of the hill where Jintha'Alor resided, Second Grade Weapons Master Utas stormed out of the door. He looked at the sky full of green lights and those rapidly falling shapes with a face full of surprise.
He turned, grabbed a young female elf mage, and shouted, "Hurry…hurry and contact Seradane City. The metal monster is here. Have them hurry and reinforce…"
The young mage hurriedly took out a communication wand. Yet, despite how much magical power she inserted into the wand, all she received as feedback was a bunch of ear-piercing sounds.
"We've been disrupted. The magical message can't be sent." The young female mage seemed never to have experienced such an urgent and dangerous situation. She was almost crying from the pressure.
"These damned enemies. It seems they are planning to bag all of us here. Gather and immediately send my message; have all the camp guards gather toward me."
Several flower fairy dispatch troops flapped their wings and charged out of the tree hall as Utas shouted.
Sadly, these frail flower fairies were mostly at the advanced-apprentice level. Most of them crashed to the ground in pain the moment they came into contact with the green lights. Only a few barely managed to keep flying, stumbling into the distance as they hung in there.
After all, the adepts wanted to capture all of these elves. Otherwise, if Endor's large-area poison spells had been changed to focus on weakening and lethality, these elves and flower fairies infected by the plague viruses would long be dead!
Dong! Dong! Dong!
Several large, heavy metal golems descended from the skies. Even though the ropes had reduced their falling speed, they still smashed up all the grass, flowers, and trees along the way, creating deep craters in the solid ground.
These magical machines plunged their hands into the dirt and climbed out of the craters to the unique sound of creaking and grinding mechanical parts.
They had been prepared for this. The first assault squad that Tigule led 'crashed' right at the entrance of Jintha'Alor camp. Consequently, when they gathered together, what stood before them was a winding road that extended toward the top of the hill.
Even though there were plenty of trees here as well, it was a considerably thinner concentration compared to the surroundings. Bright sunlight shone down from between the gaps of the waving leaves, leaving spotty patches of light on the hill road.
"Charge!"
Tigule's ear-piercing shout rang out from within the Goblin Shredder's body. This massive magical machine warrior led the way and stepped on the road.
The lowest level of Jintha'Alor was mostly composed of blade dancer training grounds.
These agile and strong elven warriors leaped out of their camps, brandishing their narrow, long elven sabers as they rushed at Tigule.
Szzzzzz!
There was no need for Tigule to lift a finger. The Archers in formation behind him raised their arms, and a torrent of metal bullets whizzed past both sides of the Goblin Shredder, pouring at the enemy.
It was apparent that these magical machines had been controlled by the goblin technicians to lower the targets of their guns when fighting. That was why the one dozen blade dancers only collapsed to the ground after the barrage. Their legs had been shot and broken, but they weren't dead.
Greem, who was still in midair, looked over from a distance. He frowned and twisted the snake-eye ring he wore on his right little finger, softly sending a magical message to Tigule.
"Have the technicians change the attack pattern of all Archers from barrage to sniping. If they were to shoot up all these elves, just the cost of healing would be a massive sum. Remember, under situations where you can guarantee your safety, your people are only allowed to snipe non-vital spots of the enemies. Do not kill them all."
Tigule casually continued his march forward and quickly transmitted Greem's message to the goblin technicians hiding within the Archers. The storm of bullets stopped, replaced by the crisp and clear crack of sniping shots.
The elven blade dancers whose legs had been riddled with holes were truly admirable warriors. When they saw the magical machines close in on them and were about to simply stride past them, they grit their teeth, endured the pain, and picked up their sabers once again. They tried to climb up from the ground and strike at the enemy.
Tigule casually continued forward, freely allowing the enemy to strike at the thick, pillar-like metal legs of the Goblin Shredder. Sparks were the only things sent flying. The mechanical leg of the Goblin Shredder that he controlled lightly lifted and kicked these crippled elves to the side of the road before continuing forward with his squad.
Seeing that a frontal assault wouldn't work, these alert blade dancers immediately dashed into the woods, relying on the trees for cover to close in on the magical machines.
Weng! Weng! Weng!
Several explosive sounds rang out. Bark and sap went flying from ancient trees that would take two to three men to encircle completely. A clean bowl-sized hole that penetrated all the way through would appear from every ferocious metal bullet that was shot. Even the dense ancient trees could not endure such continuous firing.
Many ancient trees groaned and collapsed amidst trembling leaves and flying fragments.
Still, the blade dancers had managed to rush within a distance of the magical machines with the ancient trees as cover.
Tigule smiled wickedly and controlled the Goblin Shredder to move forward. Acceleration flames blasted out from behind the machine as its large metal body charged at the enemy.