God of Cloning: My Clones Awakened Job Class!?-Chapter 46 The 2 Class Generals

The army was positioned just outside the shimmering portal. The main defensive force consisted of the seasoned Warriors, hardened by two prior battles, while the Mages were fresh recruits still new to war, stood at the rear, preparing to rain magic from afar. With their temporary team composition, they leaned heavily toward offense. There was no dedicated tank yet, no shieldbearer or guardian to absorb the brunt of the assault. It was a glaring vulnerability, and everyone knew it.

Still, they had little choice. The portal had to be protected at all costs. Behind it were the innocents: the children, the mothers, the elderly. All nestled safely inside the Soul Realm. A single breach could mean disaster. The saying rang in Ren’s mind again and again: "The best defense is a good offense." It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do.

Ren stood apart from the rest, hovering several meters above the ground, scanning the horizon with a stern gaze. He was still searching for a way to temporarily close the portal from the outside, but his abilities had limits. Unfortunately, this was one of them. Thankfully, Wise Sage was working on a solution in the background, and until then, a layered barrier had been cast across the portal entrance as a precaution.

Below, the warriors tightened their grips on their weapons. Beads of sweat rolled down their foreheads. Not from the heat, but from tension. For the Warriors, this was their third battle. For the Mages, it was their first taste of real bloodshed. They weren’t used to this kind of pressure. And yet, they stood their ground, forming disciplined ranks, weapons gleaming.

The Brawlers carried their gauntlets or reinforced staff. The Berserkers wielded clawed weapons and massive two-handed blades, brimming with bloodlust. Swordsmen stood calm and steady with steel at their hips, while Lifestealers twirled their curved daggers with deft precision. And then there were the Barbarians, hulking figures gripping axes that looked as if they could cleave trees in half. Each had a role, and each awaited the storm.

"Wise Sage," Ren said sharply, eyes narrowing. "Scan the battlefield. Look for any entity with overwhelming mana."

[Affirmative.]

[Initiating scan for high-level mana signatures.]

[Threat detected.]

[A Lich Overlord approximately two miles ahead, bearing 12 o’clock.]

[Another entity detected: An Undead Overlord that is General-class.]

Rein’s eyes widened. A Lich Overlord. And not just that.....a General to lead the undead army.

With swift motion, Ren climbed higher into the air, concealing his presence. As a precaution, he cast multiple layers of barriers on his body and activated the Basilisk’s Camouflage skill. His mana suppression worked, but only to a degree. He couldn’t afford mistakes now.

High above, he looked down upon the advancing horde.

The Lich Overlord was enthroned on a spiked bone litter, carried by skeletal minions. Its robe shimmered darkly with red and black silks, and a crown of charred bone rested atop its head. A twisted staff pulsed with energy in one hand. The throne itself was jagged with protruding spikes, and tattered flags bearing unknown emblems fluttered eerily in the wind.

Beside it marched the Undead Overlord....a monstrous being, easily the size of two grown men stacked atop each other. Its musculature was grotesque, not fat, but overdeveloped and rigid. In each hand, it carried butcher’s knives the size of broadswords. Its jaw hung loose, revealing shark-like teeth, razor-sharp and glistening.

As Ren remained suspended in the air, he noticed a sudden shift. The Lich Overlord slowly rose from its throne. It looked left, then right, a faint flicker of awareness in its glowing eyes. Then it looked up. Right at him.

It couldn’t see Ren, not directly, but some of his mana was leaking through his suppression. The Lich seemed confused for a moment, then dismissed the thought. It raised one skeletal hand high into the air. A sickly green light gathered into an orb above its palm.

"Here it comes," Ren muttered.

[Skill Activated: Rage of the Undead]

A wave of power rippled through the undead army. Their eyes turned crimson. They began to roar bone-shaking howls that pierced the sky. Then they surged forward, not marching, but running. Then charging.

"They must have found the portal’s location," Ren deduced grimly.

He soared back toward his forces, urgency burning in his veins. The Lich wasn’t just powerful, it was smart! And the Undead Overlord was guarding him, a bulwark against any assassination attempt. There would be no room for recklessness.

Touching down near the defensive line, Rein barked orders. "Reynald, you’re the Warrior General. Frein, you’re the Mage General. Maintain formation. We can’t let them through."

"Yes, Lord Ren!" they both shouted.

"I’ll thin their numbers. Don’t break the lines."

With that, he shot back into the sky and hovered at a high altitude. He needed to unleash devastation and fast.

Ren summoned clones and watched from above. The battle left a satisfying carnage.

Ren hovered high, surveying the carnage with a satisfied smirk. This was just the beginning. He had bought time, now the defense would have to hold.

And then, the enemy collided with the front lines.

The battle had begun.

"Battle has come! Everyone, brace for impact!" Reynald’s voice thundered across the field, firm and commanding.

The moment his words echoed, the battlefield trembled under the weight of the incoming horde. A black tide of undead surged forward, their shrieks and roars distorting the air. The defending army stood their ground, their bodies tensing, teeth gritting, and hearts pounding. Even the bravest among them could not help but swallow hard at the overwhelming sight before them.

Yet amidst that storm of fear, two figures stood calm....Reynald and Frein. Generals of their respective forces, the warriors and the mages. Their eyes did not falter; they read the battlefield like a book, absorbing every movement with the poise expected of seasoned leaders.

"Mages! Now!" Frein’s voice cut through the chaos like lightning.

A surge of magic pulsed behind the frontline. The mages raised their glowing hands, and within seconds, dozens of magic missiles launched into the undead ranks. Explosions burst in dazzling lights and raw force, hurling bones and limbs into the air. Waves of undead fell, yet from the smoke emerged more....a relentless tide of scorched, broken, yet still-moving corpses.

"Warriors, now!" Reynald followed with a shout, blade raised.

With a deafening roar, the warriors charged. Steel met rotting flesh in a furious clash. Blades carved through decaying torsos, claws tore through brittle limbs, and fists shattered skulls like ceramic pots. But for every undead slain, five more pressed forward. The defenders were vastly outnumbered. The battle wasn’t just fierce, it was grueling, each warrior forced into one-against-many duels of attrition.

The undead had no stamina to lose. No fear. No pain. They just kept coming.

And yet, the living endured.

A thunderous crack echoed as Braun, the tribal master of the Brawlers, smashed his fists into an undead’s skull, sending a shockwave through the battlefield. His body spun, kicked, and collided with such force that corpses exploded on impact. His disciples followed his rhythm. Shockwaves spreading like ripples in a lake as bones shattered with every strike.

On the other flank, Reynald activated his Rage skill. Blood surged in his veins, and with his greatsword in hand, he carved a path through the dead. His disciples mirrored his fury, cleaving undead in halves, stomping skulls into pulp.

Ella danced among the chaos, her twin curved daggers flashing in arcs of silver. She moved like a blur, her disciples weaving through the crowd in tandem, cutting arteries and slicing necks.

Kuro unleashed his power next. Having held back at first, he now moved like a shadow of death. With a wide sweeping slash, he felled five undead in a single strike. His soldiers followed, turning the field into a theater of precise decapitations and limb severing.

Braun’s dual weapon mastery came into play. He switched from blades to heavy blunt weapons, smashing undead into walls of crushed meat and scattered bones. Each swing cleared meters of space. The battlefield was painted in gore.

Above the rear line, Frein conjured his phantom weapons and summoned clones. Dozens of illusory warriors joined the fray, their movements synchronized and their attacks as deadly as their originals. Even the clones of his disciples were indistinguishable from the real ones.

From afar, Klein unleashed elemental havoc.....firestorms, lightning crashes, and walls of ice impaled dozens of undead at a time. His disciples joined in, each utilizing their elemental affinity: fire burned, ice froze, lightning stunned, earth crushed, and wind cut. The battlefield pulsed with raw magic.

In the center, Jeanne held her ground, healing the wounded and casting stamina restoration spells. Her magic brought time for those on the brink of collapse to return to the fight. Anna blinked across the field with her teleportation ability, decapitating targets and leaving portals behind for flanking maneuvers. Her disciples flickered in and out of space, striking with surgical precision.

Mary’s telekinesis turned the battlefield into a horror show. With the flick of a finger, undead necks snapped. With a gesture, they were crumpled into broken heaps. Her disciples did the same...limbs bent in unnatural ways and heads were crushed like overripe fruit.

Despite all this effort, exhaustion crept in. Even with Jeanne’s healing, even with stamina boosts, the defenders were burning out. They were warriors, not machines. The tide of undead had barely thinned. Thousands still surged toward the portal.

The generals, Reynald and Frein, were now in the thick of it. Shouting commands while fighting side by side with their comrades. Their bodies ached, their breath ragged, but they never retreated. Their voices kept the army standing.

And then something unexpected happened.

[Job Classed Clones] x10

[Class change]

[Healers] x10

"The clones! They’re healing us!"

"It’s from Master! Master Ren!"

A collective realization washed over them. The production slimes, the ones that helped build their village, he had sent them. Their hearts lifted and faith renewed.

They looked skyward and there he was.

Descending with majestic wings spread wide, Ren floated above them like a divine figure. His expression was calm, confident, and in control. Dozens of healing clones and combat clones followed him like loyal familiars.

"Are you all okay?" he asked, his voice echoing across the field.

"Yes, Master!" the army responded in unison.

"Good," Ren smiled. "Now, I’ll finish this mess."

Without hesitation, he soared back into the sky.

Every eye watched him rise. They had seen his power before, but now, watching him from the ground, while being healed and saved, they truly understood. He wasn’t just a leader. He was a force to be reckoned with. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

From the high above, Ren surveyed the battlefield. Thousands of undead remained. But it was time to end it.

[Nimbus Clones] x10

With that, the battle ensued...