The Cornflower Witch

Northwest Wasteland, Train No. 4.

The black steel train hurtled across the land like a roaring behemoth, its thunderous steam and transmission impacts ripping through the night.

That kind of momentum was enough to scare off many weak beasts and flying creatures, yet it also attracted monsters that prowled the darkness.

At some point, figures began appearing in the wilderness beyond the carriage windows, chasing the train. They were ox-sized, with towering ridged backs and three sharp horns on their heads. Their eyes glowed red, and they expelled long, hot breaths as they ran.

When the monsters were spotted, the window shutters on the convoy side opened one by one, and black, thick gun barrels extended out, aimed at the charging creatures.

"Open fire!" the train's commander ordered.

Short, stubby bursts of flame bloomed in orderly succession as a string of reddened enchanted bullets streaked into the night, splattering blood across those monsters.

Soon the monsters gradually bled out and collapsed, and the pursuing shapes thinned, but the people on the train had no time to celebrate. A shrill cry pierced the sky, followed by the ear-piercing sound of metal being torn on the roof. The steel roof was ripped open by razor-sharp talons, and frenzied creatures with black wings flapped into view.

Throated Black Vulture (Third Tier · Vaulted Sky)

A vicious raptor, born in droves during Gale Season. It is said that while flying at high altitude they are dyed by the Vaulted Sky Aspect and evolve.

As a wind-season spawn, they are widely distributed, but usually only one or two appear at a time; it was extremely rare to see so many gather at once.

Perhaps a few hundred Throated Black Vultures scented blood and noticed the roaring, forward-moving train. To these aerial bullies, such a noisy train was a provocation, and the Scorching Sun Crystals stored on board shone like beacons in the night, giving off an irresistibly alluring aura.

As an Aspect symbolizing life vitality, Scorching Sun, especially when preserved in the relatively mild form of crystals, is hugely attractive to all manner of monsters. As the train passed through this monster-laden wasteland, creatures of all kinds slowly converged.

"Guards, go to the roof and fend off the Black Vultures!" a man in a dark-red cloak strode through the carriage, ordering the team to prepare for battle, then drew the long sword at his waist.

The moment the sword left its scabbard it radiated a scorching orange-red glow, like a branding iron, and a hot breath spread through the carriage.

The Crimson Sun Guards: an elite legion stationed in the Terrise District. All its members are Third Tier or above; this captain had even reached Fifth Tier and ranked as the train’s third-in-command.

"Yes!" one by one, soldiers in crimson cloaks followed him out, drawing their red longswords before charging onto the roof to engage the monsters.

They were the train unit’s elite tasked with protecting the Scorching Sun Crystals, much like the Inspection Department elites under Sylutia assigned to the Ninth Convoy.

Above the roof, wind and sparks whirled.

Throated Black Vultures swooped down repeatedly, their razor talons ripping long gashes in the roof. Cold winds flooded in, and as the carriage was breached, some ground-chasing monsters leapt aboard. Screams and shouts echoed through the train.

Many of the personnel on Train No. 4 were technical support staff, most at Tiers One to Two; Third Tier practitioners were scarce.

Faced with the attack, several people scrambled in panic, but the accompanying soldiers rushed in. Wearing Morien-style helmets and chestplates and carrying high-quality hand cannons, they formed ranks: the front crouched, the rear stood, two lines of guns aimed at the monsters pouring into the carriage. Gunfire wove through the air; one by one the attacking monsters fell to the bullets.

The scent of blood spread through the car, yet the battle did not abate.

Beneath the roof, the captain gripped the orange-red, scorching-cold longsword with both hands. A beacon beam rose into the pale night, piercing the clouds and briefly illuminating the sky. Following that, streams of fiery meteors rained down from the sky, smashing into the monsters pursuing the train.

By the light of the flames, the gunners beneath the train took aim and opened fire, killing the monsters around the train one after another.

At the locomotive's head, the overall commander of Train No. 7, Commander Sedewick, stood beneath the roof deck with a composed expression, eyes staring into the distance. He did not seem concerned about the Throated White Vultures wheeling in the sky.

Those white vultures, though annoying, had limited attack power and would not cause fundamental damage to the train; he doubted the onboard fighters could not handle them. What worried him more was the train's rear. Even under the ordinary lamplight of the train, the columns still pierced the mist that filled the pale night.

At that moment I raised my left hand. Silver Stars appeared, one by one, shimmering, then shot into the depths of the night at the rear with brilliant radiance.

The wilderness and land were illuminated. In my sight I saw grasslands flooded by water, puddles everywhere, collapsed rail guardrails, and a vast lake stretching to the edge of the horizon.

The forward track was submerged and vanished. A harsh screech of brakes rang across the wasteland, but the braking was too abrupt, causing the train carriages to compress front to rear, and the ground tracks collapsed and twisted as the train pushed forward.

Finally, with roaring jolts, the train derailed and plunged into the waterlogged wasteland. The locomotive plowed up columns of mud like a bulldozer and slid for nearly a hundred meters before slowing to a stop, leaving a deep furrow in the ground. Only then did mud and water spray fall everywhere.

Several carriages toppled to their sides, and monsters surged forward to fight the crew who leaped out of the wrecked cars.

Now they had to face not only the monsters that had swarmed in from all sides and the vultures that dove from above, but—more unsettling—aroused creatures stirred within the submerged waters after the train capsized.

A thick, writhing silhouette gradually took shape in the beam of the train's lights. Its massive body rose slowly, mud cascading from its form until its appearance became clear.

Mud-Pit Serpent-Necked Dragon (Sixth Tier · Dragon Eye? Snail Fish)

A giant dragon that favors living in muddy pools. It has four fins, a long, slender neck, and excels at manipulating mud and massive waves. It usually sleeps deep in the mire and only awakens during certain seasons.

The hundred-meter-long serpent neck lifted slowly in the dark. The dragon’s head opened its eyes, revealing deep teal vertical pupils. When its gaze fixed upon others—human or monster alike—everyone felt a terror that rose from the depths of their bloodlines.

This was the world overlord of the Sixth Epoch: the True Dragons. Even if their former glory had faded, their dignity and terror remained etched deep within many creatures' bloodlines.

The dragon’s head rose high. A long, resonant roar spread across the wasteland. Muddy waves swelled at the call of its might, swallowing the train ahead and the many monsters around it.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!