Chapter 151: The Fall of a Nation (Part 1)


    "Hold the line! Relay my orders - defend at all costs!"


    Nearly a million demon troops had appeared beneath the city walls with shocking suddenness, without any warning.


    Outside Fila City, five hundred thousand human soldiers faced off against the million-strong demonic horde.


    Queen Vivian paced frantically, her fury and anxiety evident in every step. "How is this possible? A million demons marching straight to Monte Empire''s capital without any warning! Had a million flies approached our borders, we should have detected them!"


    The court ministers stood with bowed heads, not daring to speak.


    "Your Majesty," one advisor finally ventured, "For the demon army to advance so swiftly and unopposed... there must be traitors within our ranks."


    Inside the Tri-Nation Tournament arena:


    "Fire Drill!"


    Shang Que gripped his right arm with his left hand as magical energy surged forth. The converging energies twisted together before launching forward, forming a spinning, drill-like flame that shot toward Han Ming.


    The Fire Drill—a fusion of two fire-based magical energies rotating at tremendous speed—created an unstoppable penetrating force. This advanced intermediate-level spell required exceptional magical insight and control to master, transforming intangible energy into physical form with unimaginable precision.


    Han Ming retreated hastily, conjuring a small ice shield while mimicking Shang Que''s stance. Magical energy flowed rapidly between his hands.


    Though only at the second-stage fifth-tier in magical ability, Han Ming''s unique cultivation—with three extra tiers per stage compared to ordinary practitioners—brought him nearly on par with Shang Que. The difference between each tier was substantial, with gaps widening significantly across stages.


    The Fire Drill targeted Han Ming''s watery defenses deliberately. Shang Que knew ordinary flames couldn''t penetrate Han Ming''s formidable ice shields. The spinning fire bit into the frozen barrier, carving a deepening crater as ice shards sprayed outward.


    By the time Han Ming completed his next spell, the diminished Fire Drill broke through, streaking toward him. Blue-white energy swirled from Han Ming''s glowing hands, forming a vortex similar yet opposite to Shang Que''s technique—where the fire rotated in a sharp cone, this watery spiral moved in a funnel shape at a noticeably slower pace.


    When the opposing forces collided, their identical rotation directions allowed the watery vortex to gradually slow the fire drill''s spin, producing billowing steam. Recognizing Han Ming''s strategy to exhaust his attack, Shang Que didn''t hesitate—he leapt high, fingers tracing fiery ribbons through the air like dancing crimson silk.


    The scorching heat distorted the air, dividing the arena into two climates: Shang Que''s side steamed with oppressive warmth while Han Ming''s remained frost-covered. As Shang Que entered the icy zone, naturally-formed frost (not Han Ming''s direct creation) melted rapidly.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Han Ming smiled faintly, countering with watery trails from his own fingertips. The sizzling clash of opposing elements filled the air.


    In close-quarters magical combat, Shang Que was clearly disadvantaged—his martial skills paled compared to Han Ming''s. Yet Han Ming remained wary; as he dodged flames and retaliated with an upward slash, his watery energy grazed Shang Que''s sleeve, instantly freezing the fabric and turning the flesh beneath pale blue.


    Shang Que grinned strangely, using his free hand to melt the encroaching frost with flames while springing backward. From beneath him, a fiery avian soul beast erupted without warning.


    "Damn it!" Han Ming twisted aside, but the creature''s wing still scorched his thigh crimson. He realized Shang Que had hidden the summoned beast soul earlier, using their melee as distraction.


    Shang Que sighed at the missed strike, genuinely impressed by Han Ming''s agility. As the fiery bird wheeled for another pass, Shang Que unleashed a barrage of flaming kicks, forcing Han Ming skyward where he anticipated further attacks. Preemptively, Han Ming encased himself in thick ice armor.


    The protection barely formed when a slender fire streak struck it violently. Han Ming flew backward, launching four ice shards toward Shang Que while acknowledging his own relative inexperience in magical versatility compared to his opponent.


    His spectral beast soul emerged, tangling with Shang Que''s fiery familiar. While Shang Que displayed dazzling pyrotechnic spells, Han Ming relied on his Water God Art''s raw power to endure.


    Shang Que''s eyes flashed. Spreading his arms wide, he unleashed a towering firewall. As Han Ming raised another ice shield, a massive flaming serpent soul beast slithered through the flames unseen.


    Gasps erupted from spectators. "Dual Soul Beasts!!"


    While theoretically any mage or warrior could control multiple beast souls, the rarity of magical cores—especially fire-aligned ones—made this exceptionally uncommon. Shang Que''s dual summons shocked Han Ming.


    Outside Fila City, the demonic and human armies clashed. The sky darkened with flying spells and battle cries as casualties mounted rapidly.


    The demonic forces held overwhelming advantages—their weakest soldiers matched humanity''s second-stage warriors, while their mages often surpassed that level. Outnumbered two-to-one, the Monte Empire''s defeat was inevitable from the first engagement.


    The distant battle''s roar couldn''t penetrate the massive city''s tournament grounds. A messenger burst into the palace: "Your Majesty, the demons breach our final defenses! You must flee!"


    With Monte''s fall certain, ministers begged their queen to abandon the capital. Vivian closed her eyes as silence engulfed the throne room.


    When she finally spoke, her voice carried steel: "Gather our elite forces. Break through the weakest demon line and retreat to Rhine Empire. My people, you must all go. I remain with our soldiers until the end."


    "Your Majesty, no!" Ministers knelt pleadingly. "Where there''s life, there''s hope! The people need—"


    Vivian rose, descending to the palace doors where wind whipped her royal cloak. "Tell me, what is this place?"


    Puzzled, they answered, "The Monte Empire."


    "Exactly. My home. The very reason your queen exists." She tore off her gold-embroidered cloak, letting it fly like a banner. "Our soldiers know this battle is hopeless—yet they stay! Why?"


    As ministers bowed in shame, Vivian''s proud smile held no regret. "Because defending home and family is their duty! As queen, how can I do less? The Tri-Nation Alliance fails because humanity''s selfishness! Only when nations crumble do we forget this flaw. My death must show our northern continent''s rulers and people our extinction''s brink—that we fear neither death nor final selfishness!"


    She turned to the weeping elder kneeling nearby. "Master Mellen, you who guided me from childhood shall be Monte''s next king."


    "Vivian..." The old man trembled, tears streaming. He''d watched this woman grow from girl to monarch, now to witness her martyrdom.


    She gently raised him. "Wise Mellen understands the burden you must bear. Don''t mourn—I choose this path gladly. I go to meet my father and brother now. Find the traitors who enabled this invasion."


    When he nodded mutely, Vivian called for her royal mount. As ministers wept, she stood tall, gazing at her beloved land one final time: "I believe Monte''s exile is temporary! Our people will return home—and that day will come soon!"