Due to your strong reactions from the last chapter I have decided to host a Mass Postage by this coming sunday, if it is not out by then expect the chapters to flow next sunday. NOW...why would I do that? I like a lot of you...I see your names pop up as you read my chapters and post comments (the outspoken among you know who you are), I find it hard to allow myself to disappoint you. So...I will host a mass postage of a minimum of ten chapters within a week or two. This arc has a whole lot more importance than some simple Tribulation for the MC. I strive to post something entirely unique, I don't want to be compared to some other template within the same genre.

I put a lot of work and thought into each of my chapters, you may not notice all the work put into it but that is only because you have not read the other chapters I have written and have as of yet to post. It is a fault of mine to present everything little by little but I know no other writing style

I ask only that you bear with me, give me and my work a chance.

Chapter Thirty Two - Night Sun Black Ops

*** Almighty Narrator ***

“Control this is Task Force Three Captain Riggan,” the commander said speaking into a special device he held in his hand. It was metallic and crystalline with multilayered seals engraved on it. It was designed as a receiver piece for the communications device in the control room. The commander was sitting on the captain’s chair surrounded by his officers each tending to separate tasks. “We are coming over the target, ETA is five minutes.”

“Roger Captain,” a voice replied coming from an audio system connected to the chair above the part where the head would rest. “Deploy at will.”

Directly above a fire gate flew a black flying fortress, it was sleek in design and appeared more like an arrow head, a two hundred meter long and one hundred fifty meter wide arrow head. From its belly deployed three hundred trained Nocturnum Soles.

Instead of parachutes the sky divers were given flying vests inscribed with flight magic, the suits were embedded with diamonds chuck full of mana, enough to get the troops on the ground.

“Control, troops have been deployed,” the commander informed them.

“Roger, turn the bird around and head on home,” the voice on the comms said. “Task Force Four will be deploying the care packages.”

“Roger,” the commander responded. “We are heading home.”

Down on the ground three hundred drop troops were quickly covering ground setting up a perimeter around the fire gate. A letter from the great one asked the illuminated to capture as many gates as possible and place certain seals around them to hide them from the world. The letter included that there would be hostiles of unknown origins present and that they would be easily recognizable. All should be assumed hostile and killed on sight.

It did not take long for the first team to run into a creature from the other side, it was a large predatory avian that much resembled a bird. Sixteen concentrated rounds from the long range squad members tore the bird apart. It was long dead before it ever hit the ground.

--- Team 13 ---

“This is Team Thirteen we got eyes on some hounds,” the soldier in charge of communications informed the slowly establishing HQ staff members. The soldiers not collecting the care packages were busy setting up a perimeter or hunting and tracking sighted hostile units. “Big like a horse, an entire pack. Smoggy, we are engaging them.”

“Roger team thirteen,” was the only reply.

“Ted, Cammy hit em with water,” the leader of the team commanded as communications were over. Ted and Cammy were elemental water users, Ted was the tanker of the team and Cammy the medic, but right now they were needed as mid range frontliners.

Many squealing howls followed as jet streams of water struck the pack of hounds, some were killed instantly others were simply injured or maimed.

“I’m done marking them!” Frederick announced, that was the cue for the team to pull back. They were a simple scouting force that had peeled off from a larger body, their pulling back would draw them into conflict with the main force of those tasked with hunting.

--- Air Support Unit 19 ---

“This is Team 4 requesting fire on the tagged sector,” a call came over the comms.

“HQ I’m moving forward to provide support,” the pilot informed HQ via comms link.

“Roger,” came the simple reply. “Proceed.”

A chinook like vessel made its way forward to its target, its rotors were powered by an electromagnetic rotor powered by a mana conversion unit that pulled its power from mana capacitor diamonds.. This particular chinook has two mounted railgun cannons, they are capable of firing about three hundred low velocity nine millimeter rounds per minute.

Their target was a group of volcanic minotaurs, skeletal creatures with ram’s horns instead of bull horns.

three ten second bursts tore apart the small gang of creatures.

The weapon lacked power and precision, but it was a styled spray-and-pray gun, while it could not deliver the firepower of a rifle or the precision and penetrating power of a sniper rifle, it could saw through lightly armored targets.

The Chinook was also mounted with a larger fifty caliber gun, due to the fact it chugged a ridiculous amount of mana, it was commissioned to be used only in the most dire of situations, after all there was as of yet anything that could match the Illuminated Air Force, not even Boraia had produced a fleet capable of matching it toe to toe.

--- ---

Within Hours the first gate was sealed and a modular facility built around it, in time the facility would be replaced with a more permanent one. Several teams in a cycling schedule were tasked with killing anything that got through the gate while another portion was tasked with hunting what remained of the first to cross over. After the number was reduced enough that they were no longer a threat a large portion of the teams were airlifted to be taken to the next site of battle.

There were still many more seals to conquer and more creatures to kill.

--- ---

“This is Task Force One over,” the pilot who commanded the stealth craft radioed over the comms. The stealth flying fortress was shaped much like the others, an arrow, but it was imbued with concealment magic of all sorts, to spot it you first had to at minimum know of its existence. Needless to say mind magic was also involved.

“This is Control TF1,” a voice replied. “What’s your status?”

“Arriving over target area,” TF1 replied. “Eta two minutes. Dropping cargo.”

“Roger that TF1,” the voice said. “Drop cargo and return, you aren’t needed in that space anymore today.”

“Drive by drop Roger,” the pilot acknowledged the order.

--- Auxilium Umbra ---

“Shadow to Control,” a man who was nothing more than another man’s shadow, said over the comms. This man was groundside and was currently recovering the small package. “We have the package.”

“Roger that Shadow,” the voice replied.

This shadow of another man met with others like him, shadows of one man.

They were Auxilium Umbra, the Protective Shadow.

The package was requested by them, it was meant for their master, a package he would need yet had not asked for. It was their way, do for him what sometimes he cannot do for himself, or could not be bothered to do.

*** Doctor Ludwig’s New Station ***

“Welcome to your new site Doctor,” Company Commander Roland greeted the famed doctor. Among the Illuminated it is known that he holds a chair among the high council, an informal circle of leaders and decision makers. “We’ve tamed the area and the gate is in constant lockdown nothing gets through.”

The doctor had just dismounted from a highly classified stealth airship, he was not taken into the air via a chinook, while powerful birds on their own the armament on a stealth airship is...classified...greatly...classified and very reassuring.

He had been moved from his secret hospital in Boraia and moved to Roya’s northern half, the new continent’s more populated region, and installed in the facility housing the most active of the seals. The level of monsters that had come through had called for a small fleet of airships, chinooks, and a concentrated military personnel force not used in any other site in such quantity. The whole situations had almost called for a regional cleansing to erase any possible witnesses to the battle that had taken place. Thankfully while the region was populated the zone in which the seal had popped open had been rather secluded.

Gathering the strays and clearing the corpses had been a chore after the main battle which was why it was currently the most well defended facility at the moment sporting nearly a thousand troops and twice that many personnel, this represented more than half of all the illuminated.

“What am I doing here?” the doctor asked. He was currently in the CM’s office.

“We received official orders to have you moved,” the CM replied. “As for who commanded this, only you will ever know lest you wish to tell us.”

At that moment the CM opened a drawer and pulled out a black case designed with intricate seals. Orders sent in this format were usually extremely classified and from high on up.

“I am chair member…” the doctor more whispered than actually said out loud as he took the case. “Who could possibly have the power to have me moved…”

There was a scroll within. He unfurled it and began to read.

Dear Doctor,

I apologize for the move without warning, your work after all is very important to me and to the world whether the world will ever realize it or not.

Within a two week time limit I want a proper report on the creatures that come through this point, I want your best estimates as to the climate and geography on the other side. This will be a test for how well you understand physical adaptations, evolutionary courses, and personal adaptation to a new working environment.

For this reason I have sent ahead two notebooks containing my notes on the subject of evolution and physical adaptation. Note that they are mere observations and not concrete facts. Read them don’t read them, up to you.

Two Weeks.

Your Lord,

(seal of house Cazador )

Leo Cazador

“It seems that I have drawn once again the attention of our lord,” the doctor frowned. A two week time limit? No rest for the weary then.