259: Chapter 259 Magic Freeze, Bai Ling's Help

The scorched earth was still smoking when the gravel at the edge of the crack suddenly jolted.

The fissure that Chen Xiaodao's sword array had leveled was slowly bulging upward, as if a giant hand were pushing from beneath the ground.

Soil rustled down, revealing the wet, purplish-gray slime underneath.

A foul stench drifted on the wind, mixing with the rising geothermal vapors and making throats tighten.

"It's moving! It's coming again!"

"Quick! Form the defensive array! Move the wounded to the back!"

"Can the mecha fragments still be used? Piece them together!"

Several young clansmen scrambled up from behind the rock piles, holding broken Psionic Conduits and scorched Shield Generators.

They had just caught their breath when their hearts leaped into their throats—the tremors from underground were becoming more frequent, the frequency like a mass of creatures crawling together.

The crack split open three feet wide, and the head of a Yao Beast poked out, its tusks protruding and its eyes glowing with a murky green light.

Its limbs clawed the ground as it prepared to leap out, when two more spots on the ground exploded behind it, and two more lunged out, roaring as they charged toward the crowd.

But just then—

A pale cyan halo swept in rapidly from the flank of the battlefield.

Bai Ling ran out, stepping on the residual Runic Tracks of the Medicine Array Area, her skirt hem stained with ash and grass clippings.

She wore no mecha, and her left arm was still her original limb, yet a swirling mass of frost mist had already condensed in her palm.

She chanted softly, the syllables ancient and clear, sounding like morning dew in a forest dripping onto a stone surface.

She suddenly raised her hands, her arms tracing an arc.

"Congeal—!"

In an instant, the moisture in the air gathered frantically, turning into a large expanse of rolling white mist that spread out.

The mist did not dissipate; instead, it sank rapidly, spreading across the scorched earth like a tide washing over sand.

The first Yao Beast to lunge had just jumped half a zhang into the air, its four claws still suspended, when its entire body suddenly froze.

Its eyes bulged and its muscles tensed, but it could no longer move an inch—

A thick layer of Profound Ice wrapped around its hind legs from the bottom up, spreading rapidly to its waist, abdomen, and chest, freezing it into a hideous ice sculpture in the blink of an eye.

The second Yao Beast had just opened its mouth to roar when the ice sealed its throat.

It struggled to pounce forward, only for its entire forelimb to crash into a suddenly rising ice wall. With a crisp "crack," its joints shattered, and its body was frozen mid-air, leaving only its tail twitching slightly.

The third one fared even worse; it had only just emerged halfway when it was swallowed by a cold current surging from the bottom of the crack.

The ice grew in reverse from underground like tangling vines, instantly sealing it and its un-emerged companions deep beneath the earth.

Only a few heads were left exposed, eyes staring at the sky and mouths slightly agape, as if in a silent scream.

The entire fissure area, spanning a hundred zhang, was completely frozen.

Profound Ice three feet thick covered the surface. Beneath the ice, the silhouettes of countless Yao Beasts were clearly visible—some struggling, some roaring—all frozen in the moment they broke through the soil.

The surface of the ice shimmered with a ghostly blue luster, with occasional faint electric arcs flickering—traces that magic energy was still at work.

The battlefield fell silent for a moment.

Then, someone spoke in a trembling voice: "This... what Spell is this?"

"Heavens... they've stopped moving."

"They've really stopped! They're all frozen!"

"It's Young Miss Bai Ling! She's here! Look!"

Several young clansmen poked their heads out from behind cover, their faces filled with disbelief.

A youth held up a broken Psionic Gun, its barrel still smoking, but he forgot to lower it, just staring blankly at the frozen pack of Yao Beasts.

In the wounded area, an old man stood up shakily with a cane, his voice hoarse but powerful:

"Don't just stand there! Quickly adjust the Psionic Circuits! Use this time to repair the Shield Arrays! Drag the damaged mechas over and connect them to the backup power! We still have time!"

As his voice fell, everyone snapped out of it as if waking from a dream.

"Move the shield plates!"

"Connect the Psionic Conduits! Quick!"

"The damaged armor over there is still usable; strip the Core Modules!"

Several figures moved quickly, dragging the remains of scorched mechas and re-deploying the still-functional Shield Generators on the perimeter of the ice.

The Psionic Conduits were connected one by one. The energy indicator lights turned from red to yellow, then slowly began to glow with a faint green light.

Bai Ling stood in the center of the Ice Array, her knees giving way as she dropped to one knee.

She propped herself up on the ice with one hand, her fingertips trembling slightly.

Fine sweat seeped from her forehead, sliding down her cheek and condensing into an ice bead as it reached her chin, which then dropped onto the ice with a "patter," shattering into five pieces.

Her breathing grew heavy, her chest heaving violently.

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, a faint silver light flickered deep within her pupils—a sign that a massive amount of the Elf Race's Origin magic was being drawn upon.

She did not stop.

Her left hand pressed against the ground while her right hand rose, a small mass of frost mist condensing in her palm once more.

She converted her magic output into pulsed oscillations, injecting them into the ice layer wave after wave.

With each oscillation, the ice surface hummed slightly, and the speed at which the cracks expanded slowed by a fraction.

She murmured to herself, her voice so soft it was almost swept away by the wind: "I can hold on... you all... still have a chance."

In the distance, Chen Xiaodao's back was still visible on the front line, his silver hair fluttering slightly, his short sword pointing diagonally at the ground, not retreating a single step.

He didn't look back, but his shoulders relaxed for a brief moment, as if he sensed the support behind him.

Bai Ling's gaze fell upon him for a very brief moment before she looked away.

She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes again. The magic within her flowed out continuously like a stream, pouring into the Ice Array.

Fine runic patterns emerged on the surface of the ice, like ancient script slowly flowing.

"Quick! Energy conduction is seventy percent complete!"

"Shields are up to forty percent! We can still increase the pressure!"

"The gap on the left is patched! Keep the right side steady too!"

The voices of the clansmen rose and fell, filled with hope amidst the tension.

As they rushed to repair the defensive line, they occasionally looked up at the slender figure in the center of the Ice Array.

"Young Miss Bai Ling is holding back all this by herself?"

"She's not wearing a mecha, and she's not using any technological assistance... it's all on her own?"

"Stop talking nonsense! Get to work! Don't let her hold on for nothing!"

A young girl carrying a heavy Psionic Battery stumbled a few steps and almost fell.

She looked up at Bai Ling, her eyes suddenly turning red: "You mustn't fall... we haven't won yet."

Bai Ling did not hear these words.

She only felt the magic within her being drained bit by bit; her limbs began to grow cold, and her fingertips went numb.

But she still maintained the Spell, the pulsed oscillations coming wave after wave, reinforcing the ice layer that was about to crack.

Beneath the ice, the frozen Yao Beasts were still twitching slightly, their eyes moving as if waiting for the moment they would be released.

Deep underground, the throbbing had not stopped.

Fine cracks had appeared on the surface of the ice, spreading like a spiderweb.

Bai Ling opened her eyes, looked at the longest crack, took a soft breath, and raised her hand again.

The frost mist in her palm flickered, preparing to inject the final wave of oscillation.

The wind swept across the battlefield, lifting a strand of hair from her shoulder before it slowly fell back.

Her pupils reflected the entire frozen battlefield—the scorched earth, the damaged armor, the busy figures of her clansmen, and that edge of the fissure that had remained unmoved.

The tip of the sword slowly rose three inches.