The battlefield under the night sky is the home ground of the Reaper Race.

These insect-like creatures possess sensory abilities in the dark that far surpass those of species reliant on vision; their shells barely reflect any light under the moon, and the sounds of their movements are perfectly masked by the background noise of the battlefield.

By conventional thought, night raids are one of their most skilled tactics.

Although technology has advanced to the point where daytime and nighttime make little difference, they still prefer to act at night.

When the advance party of the Reaper Race quietly approached the outskirts of the Wizard Camp, what they saw was tightly knit defenses.

Numerous, diverse cannon fodder units patrolled back and forth; in just one day, they had already transformed into an iron fortress, with the camp brightly lit, as wizards tirelessly added new protective facilities to the camp through the night.

A perfect moment for an attack.

The Reaper Race commander hidden in the shadows—a Sixth Level "Tactical Calculator"—effortlessly scanned data streams through its compound eyes, yielding a conclusion completely contrary to the scene before it.

Yet, it had "experienced" dozens of similar night raids and knew what would happen next: the wizards would switch the energy source of the camp’s core array in three minutes, leaving a brief gap.

Three minutes arrived.

The giant Rune Tower at the camp center shimmered, with the entire camp’s Protective Array fluctuating like a breath.

At the instant the energy wave dipped to its lowest... it was now!

"Disruption Array, activate!" The Tactical Calculator issued the command via pheromone network.

Thousands hidden within the ruins simultaneously activated their devices.

An invisible wave swept through the camp, instantly overloading the energy circuit being switched; the Shield flickered a few times and extinguished.

Darkness enveloped the Wizard Camp.

Finally, the Reaper Race legion prepared long ago surged from all directions.

Based on intelligence obtained from previous dozens of reincarnations, ground forces easily bypassed various traps to advance head-on, flying units suppressed from the air, and an elite squad dove straight into the central command of the Wizard Camp.

Perfect tactics, precise timing, ample forces.

According to the Reaper Race commander’s planning, those creatures known as wizards would suffer severe losses next.

But...

In the instant the Reaper Race army fully entered within three hundred kilometers of the camp’s outskirts, the ground suddenly illuminated.

It was an immense, suffocatingly massive Composite Array covering the entire area.

Millions of Runes simultaneously activated, light shooting skyward, brightening the night like daytime.

The Reaper Race commander watched the rising light, feeling a sinking heart, for the Array did not expand from the camp center but enclosed from the outskirts.

It was long set up, just waiting for the enemy to step in — this was a trap!

But... how could this be?!!

The Reaper Race’s charge came to an abrupt halt.

Individuals at the front even collided due to the sudden stop, causing temporary confusion in the formation.

At the center of the camp, illusions receded like a tide.

The so-called "Iron Camp" vanished, replaced by a Wizard Legion ready for battle.

Cannon fodder units arranged into neat phalanxes, Rune Cannon Towers’ barrels fully charged, even the "slow-moving" Alchemy Armor now glowed with dangerous red light in their eyes.

In the sky, Frost rose slowly.

The Seventh Level Wizard’s Magic Robe fluttered in the night wind as he gazed down at the surrounded Reaper Race army below, a cold smile curling at his lips.

"It seems these creatures rely on ’saving their progress’ for too long, unable even to execute basic battlefield maneuvers." His voice spread across the battlefield through Amplifying Witchcraft, "Let me teach you... war is not a scripted play."

"Fire."

The order was as concise as two words.

Then, destruction descended.

The Rune Cannon Towers’ opening salvo tore the Reaper Race’s vanguard to shreds.

Carapaces capable of resisting Fourth Level Witchcraft shredded like paper under focused fire from tens of thousands of towers targeting exclusively Life Disintegration Witchcraft.

And as the vanguard with the strongest elemental damage resistance perished, other prepared attacks also launched.

Energy beams, elemental missiles, arcane impacts... various attacks wove a net, with thousands of Reaper Race creatures shattered into fragments every second.

The Reaper Race was scrambling in panic to counterattack.

Their combined Casting Array began recharging, special units released mental interference, while elite troops tried to break through the firepower net straight to the towers.

But the wizards’ response... was eerily precise.

Whenever the Reaper Race prepared certain tactics, corresponding countermeasures would emerge beforehand.

The Combined Casting Array started, promptly disrupted by Anti-Energy Focus Devices; mental interference waves released, only to find wizards had long switched to physical transmission mode; elite troop’s assault path precisely collided with a pre-laid minefield.

The substantial disparity in hard power between the two sides now widened with significant intelligence disparity, altering the nature of this battle.

It had transformed into a one-sided massacre based on absolute intelligence advantage.

Jeming hovered atop the high-altitude observation platform behind the battlefield.

This area shielded by three layers of Energy Shields perfectly commanded a view over the entire battlefield yet remained distant from the frontlines.

"Really... not holding back at all." He watched the one-sided battle in the distance, shaking his head helplessly.

Frost had "protected" him.

Not letting him risk the front lines anymore for Jeming’s inner ability to resist Time Reincarnation Artifacts far exceeded a Fourth Level Wizard’s combat prowess in value.

Jeming had no objections.

He welcomed the leisure, after all, having nothing much to do while still earning Military Merits—who wouldn’t want such a good thing?

His Divine Sense scanned his Inner Grotto Heaven, confirming all Black Giants had been recovered.

"Cannot afford any loss." Jeming thought.

Each reincarnation, units taken out from Grotto Heaven won’t return.

The Black Giant Legion had shrunk from five thousand in the last cycle to twenty-five hundred this cycle, and if loss continued, he’d truly end up as a one-man band.

Though he wasn’t truly idle.

Ensuring safety, Jeming retrieved a specially crafted Record Crystal.

He aligned the crystal toward the battlefield, commencing recording.

Scenes of the battlefield, energy fluctuations, law disturbances... all perceivable data was meticulously recorded.

"Reaper Race’s night raid tactics," Jeming mentally titled the archive, "employs diversionary attack to lure the enemy with main force side-wing breakthrough, yet the core remains reliant on preset time nodes."

He shifted focus, targeting the Reaper Race’s command system.

The Sixth Level Tactical Calculator frantically adjusted formation, attempting a breakout.

But every adjustment was preemptively anticipated and blocked by the wizards.

Confusing data streams started emerging in its compound eyes—a manifestation of computational overload.

"Indeed, once tactics are fully exposed, their adaptability plummets sharply," Jeming recorded this observation, "Reincarnation grants them ’foresight,’ yet it also stripped away their creativity when facing the ’unknown.’ This is a lethal flaw."

"However, it’s peculiar; under normal conditions having reincarnation as such means, they should lavishly use their lives to pioneer paths, yet the contrary is true, seemingly confirming my last cycle’s speculation that reincarnation involves significant costs for these creatures..."

The battle lasted less than an hour.

When the last Reaper Race creature disintegrated amidst cannon fire, the battlefield suddenly fell silent.

Only the hum of energy overload and crackling of fire consuming bodies lingered.

The casualties for the Wizard Legion were minimal.

Cannon fodder units lost less than five percent, Wizard bodies had zero casualties.