Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory-Chapter 865: We Don’t Have a Choice Anymore

The moment those words left his mouth—

Seraphine's fingers trembled, just barely.

Because deep down, she knew—

He wasn't entirely wrong.

She'd seen it herself.

Too many worlds gone dry.

Too many civilizations fading into silence once their resources ran out.

But even so—

She couldn't bring herself to walk that path.

The man didn't press further.

With a flicker of motion, he vanished—reappearing atop the warship's deck.

A heartbeat later—

Dozens of energy nodes lit up across the ship's hull.

The main cannon deployed.

Targeting systems locked in.

A cold, merciless killing intent swept across the desert like a tidal wave.

Seraphine's pupils shrank.

"They're really going to wipe this place out…"

Panic erupted.

Some dropped to their knees in the sand.

Others clung to each other, sobbing quietly.

"Your Majesty… go…"

"We have no future left…"

"Don't die here with us…"

Despair swept through the crowd like a storm.

Seraphine didn't answer.

She simply raised her hand.

A golden crystal floated into her palm, glowing with a soft, steady light.

The Heart of Light.

Its radiance flared outward—

Gentle, but unshakable.

Light Force wrapped around the people like a cocoon of warmth, shielding them from the cold edge of death.

At the same time, Seraphine began weaving a spatial sphere at the cocoon's center.

Space began to bend—

Collapsing, folding, spinning inward.

The next second—

BOOM—!!

The warship's firepower rained down.

The desert split open.

Light and explosions swallowed the land.

But when the smoke cleared—

There was nothing left.

The man descended again, landing on the scorched earth.

His gaze swept the empty desert, eyes dark with irritation.

Only faint traces of Light Force lingered in the air, slowly fading.

"Tch. Quick little escape."

His voice was low, cold.

"Next time, Seraphine… you won't be so lucky."

The warship slowly lifted off, turning toward the distant horizon.

…

At the same time—

Emerald Castle was stepping into its golden age.

The Doomsday Ark left behind by the Narlost Empire had become a mobile treasure trove of advanced technology. Its weapon arrays, energy compression systems, and spatial stabilizers were all far beyond the current limits of Sky Fortress tech.

With enough resources, it could even be rebuilt into a true interdimensional war core.

And resources—

Were the one thing Emerald Castle had in abundance.

Inside the research district, lights burned day and night.

The scientists were in a frenzy.

Scanning. Dismantling. Modeling. Simulating.

Every module was like a doorway to a new world.

But even after the war, Emerald Castle hadn't truly settled.

The walls were still under repair. Defense arrays remained active. Patrols never stopped. Victory was theirs, but the air still carried a taut, lingering tension.

Ethan hadn't rested since returning to the capital.

Most of his time was poured into preparing for the next phase of war.

The Narlost Empire had been crushed—but they were never the real threat.

Vorgar Empire.

That shadowy force that had only shown its face once, and never truly acted.

It loomed like a storm cloud overhead.

Ethan was certain—

Their strength far surpassed Narlost's.

Which was exactly why he couldn't afford to relax.

He was already working on upgrading the Powered Combat Armor—

Pushing it to handle higher energy thresholds and deeper rule integration.

That was when the control room doors slammed open.

Feylora rushed in, nearly tripping over herself.

"Master! Bad news!"

"One of our ore transport teams was ambushed. The cargo's gone—but everyone made it back safely."

Ethan looked up.

His eyes sharpened instantly.

"No casualties?"

"Just minor injuries. They'll recover in a few days."

Silence settled over the room.

Ethan didn't explode.

Instead, his gaze grew more focused.

"They took the resources… but didn't kill anyone."

He repeated it under his breath.

This wasn't a provocation.

It felt more like—

Desperation.

He stepped to the war table and expanded the 3D map.

"Where did it happen?"

Feylora studied the map, then tapped a remote coordinate.

"Here."

"There's a Creature Dwelling nearby. The units it produces have high metal affinity—critical for ore processing and defensive construction."

Ethan narrowed his eyes.

The area wasn't strategically vital, but it did connect several key supply routes.

"This wasn't random."

He closed the map, decision already made.

"Send the order."

"Reorganize a new transport convoy."

"I'll escort it myself."

Feylora froze.

"Master, that's too dangerous—"

She didn't even finish.

The air tore open.

Ethan vanished in a blur, leaving only a ripple of energy behind.

The winding mountain path coiled through the canyon like a gray serpent.

Below, a small group lay hidden in the shadows of the rock face. The wind kicked up dust and grit, but no one moved. Their breathing was shallow, barely audible.

Hands gripped weapons, trembling slightly.

"Your Majesty…"

One voice broke the silence, low and tight. "Are we really doing this again?"

"Emerald Castle's the strongest force in this region."

Another swallowed hard. "Last time was already pushing it. If they catch us again—"

"Maybe… maybe we should just fall back."

The third voice was barely more than a whisper.

They weren't bandits.

Just people with nowhere left to run.

Queen Seraphine stood atop a rocky outcrop, her white cloak fluttering in the mountain wind. She didn't answer right away. Her gaze stayed fixed on the winding road ahead, calm but exhausted.

"Quiet."

Her voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the murmurs like a blade.

"My intel is solid."

"A convoy carrying energy supplies will pass through here soon."

She paused, her tone softening.

"We don't have a choice anymore."

"The newborns need energy to survive. Even our food requires it—without it, our bodies will collapse."

Without energy, they didn't even have the right to live.

Silence spread again.

Then—

A low engine hum rolled in from the far end of the pass.

A mid-sized transport craft came into view, gliding steadily along the path. Its underbelly glowed faintly with energy. Four smaller escort ships flanked it in a fan formation, like silent metal hounds.

Seraphine frowned slightly.

"Fewer than expected…"

But her fingers tightened.

Even a little was still hope.

"Move."

The moment the order dropped, the entire group leapt from the rocks.

Air cracked from the sudden force. Their boots hit the ground with bursts of dust and stone. These weren't elite soldiers—

They were the last fighters she had left.

Not an army.

But her final shield.

They were just about to reach the convoy when—

A crushing pressure slammed out from the central transport craft like a hammer blow.

The air collapsed.

The charging group was thrown back dozens of feet, boots skidding across fractured stone. Dust exploded around them.

Then—

A figure rose slowly from the transport.

Powered Combat Armor gleamed under the sun, its metal plating catching the light with a cold, lethal sheen.