Warrior Training System-Chapter 472: The Sound of War

The right flank was under Orlando’s command. When the battle at the front began, they were still positioned far from the main clash, separated by distance and terrain. All they had were the sounds—war cries rolling through the air, explosions shaking the ground, metal crashing against metal.

It was enough to make anyone uneasy.

But fear didn’t take root.

Everyone there had already seen plenty of fighting since the war began. No one was green anymore. The noise didn’t break morale—it hardened it.

Cassian stood among them, steady. He’d been in more than a few battles himself, and even after killing someone he once called a friend, the fire inside him hadn’t dimmed. If anything, it burned hotter. His Domain stirred around him, a low pressure of killing intent that bled into the air.

Normally, Shera would’ve snapped at him to rein it in.

Not today.

As this was a full-scale battle now—no reason to hold anything back. Cassian let his killing intent roll freely, the pressure bleeding into the soldiers around him, stirring their blood and sharpening their focus.

The cult launched their assault from the flanks at the same time. Unlike the frontal forces that charged head-on, these units stayed back, opening with long-range attacks—mirroring their enemies’ own tactics.

On this side, the cult’s forces were led by Squad Commander Kirk. His son was already engaged with Naset high in the sky, their battle completely out of Cassian’s sight. Still, the clash above was impossible to miss—thunderous impacts, warped air, violent gusts of wind colliding with flashes of blinding light. Somewhere above, space itself seemed to twist under their power.

Cassian didn’t have time to watch.

His attention snapped back just as the first barrage came in.

Spells filled the sky.

Orlando’s voice cut through the rising panic, sharp and steady.

"Hold."

No speeches. No bravado. Just that single word.

Cassian felt it ripple through the line. Shields were raised higher. Fingers tightened around spear hafts and sword grips until knuckles went white. Someone a few steps to his left swallowed hard, loud enough to hear even over the distant thunder of battle.

The sky answered the cult’s chanting.

Fireballs bloomed into existence—some red, some sickly green, others burning white-hot—arcing toward them like falling stars. Between them streaked long spears of ice, spinning end over end, trailing mist that froze the air around them. Bolts of distorted mana warped space itself, bending light as they flew.

Still, Orlando didn’t move.

"Hold."

Cassian planted his feet, feeling the ground vibrate beneath him. His Domain stirred, restless, murderous, pressing against his skin like a caged beast. He forced it down—not yet. Around him, mages began murmuring counters under their breath, sweat already beading on their foreheads.

The first wave hit.

Defensive barriers flared to life with blinding light. Fire smashed against translucent shields, exploding outward in heat and sparks. Ice spears shattered, shards spraying across the line like shrapnel.

The ground trembled beneath their boots as the barrage slammed into the defensive shields. Fireballs burst like dying suns, ice spears screamed through the air, bolts of warped mana crashed down in waves—but the shields held, humming under the strain.

Soldiers clenched their weapons. Shield-bearers dug their heels in, knuckles white. No one spoke. No one moved.

Then it came.

A fire spear—vast, dense, almost solid—tore through the sky. It was meters long, its core white-hot, its edges warping the air itself. It struck the central shield head-on.

Crack.

The sound wasn’t loud. It was worse—sharp and final.

Fractures spiderwebbed across the shield. Hearts skipped. Someone swore under their breath.

"Hold."

Orlando’s voice cut through the chaos, calm and absolute.

The spear shattered the shield in a violent bloom of heat and sparks—but before panic could take hold, a massive magic circle ignited around Orlando. Symbols folded into one another, gravity lines snapping into place.

The broken shield didn’t explode outward.

It collapsed inward.

Every incoming spell—fire, ice, lightning, twisted cult mana—was dragged toward Orlando’s circle, bent off course as if the sky itself had tilted. The air screamed as magic was crushed, compressed, devoured.

For a heartbeat, the battlefield went quiet.

"Gravity magic..." Wanni whispered, stunned. "That old man’s insane."

The sky above them was suddenly empty.

Orlando lowered his staff and spoke, voice steady.

"Our turn."

He raised one hand.

"Cannons. Fire."

The air screamed. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

The first wave of white, crackling mana spheres slammed into the cultists’ shields like falling stars. Explosions bloomed across the battlefield—deafening booms, blinding flashes—lighting up the night as if dawn had come early.

The cultists’ mana barriers held.

Cassian frowned. "They’re tanking it."

"They’re trying to," Wanni replied, grin widening. "Keep watching."

Some of the mana balls detonated on impact, exactly as expected. But a handful didn’t explode.

Instead, they stuck.

Cassian’s eyes widened as he saw it—dense, humming spheres grinding against the shields, spinning violently, faster and faster, like drills made of pure mana. The shields warped inward where they pressed, rippling like stretched glass.

"What the hell is that?" Cassian muttered.

"Compression cannons," Wanni said, almost proud. "Those aren’t blasts. They’re grinders."

The rotating mana spheres began to scream as their spin accelerated, white lightning arcing around them. The shields started to fracture—not shatter, but peel, layers tearing away under relentless pressure.

Then one shield failed.

It didn’t explode. It collapsed inward, folding like wet paper. The mana sphere punched straight through—and everything behind it vanished in a spray of blood, armor, and fire.

The right flank erupted in cheers.

"Reload!" Orlando barked, voice cutting through the chaos. "Keep pressure! Don’t give them time to reset!"

Cassian felt his pulse spike. This wasn’t a skirmish. This wasn’t probing fire.

This was a meat grinder—and it had just started turning in their favor.

But it didn’t end there. On both sides, the mana shields were thinning fast, yet the rain of spells and cannon fire never slowed.

Orlando’s voice cut through the chaos."Raise shields over the cannons. Keep them firing."

Most of the cannons were positioned along the front line, while the second line filled with mages began unleashing spell after spell—Wanni among them, her hands glowing as she joined the barrage.

The melee fighters, Cassian included, were still holding position. Their job wasn’t to advance yet—only to endure. To block. To deflect.

An ice spear screamed toward Cassian’s flank. He stepped in and shattered it with a sharp slash, shards bursting apart midair. Nearby, Shera swung her hammer, smashing a fireball out of the sky and sending the flames dispersing harmlessly to the side.