Just as he charged through the space rift, Jeming felt a sudden wave of dizziness, as if soone had struck him on the back of the head with a blunt object.
But he imdiately steadied himself, recovering almost instantly.
"Captain?" ca the inquiry from behind him.
"It’s nothing." Jeming raised his hand in a reassuring gesture, but his gaze had already swept forward.
Having crossed the pitch-black space rift, these thousand n appeared high in the sky at the rear of the battlefield.
In front was the Witch Army—millions of wizards arrayed in formation, various Rune Cannon Towers stood tall, and the Energy Shields glimred faintly in the air.
Even further, the horizon was black with the enemy forces.
At this mont, the witch army’s rear guard had already turned their guns toward them.
"Reinforcents?" A Sixth Level Wizard flew out from the formation, his voice filled with vigilance, "At this point in ti?"
Jeming said nothing, he directly raised the Magic Network Terminal.
A beam of light projected into the air, revealing the command docunt of the Starcaster Artarius, ending with the blinding spiritual power imprint belonging to an Eighth Level Wizard.
The Sixth Level Wizard’s pupils contracted slightly, imdiately saluting, "Verification passed."
He turned and made a gesture to the rear, and the guard finally lowered their weapons.
But the atmosphere remained tense—these wizards clearly looked puzzled, not understanding why reinforcents suddenly appeared.
"Fortunately, Lord Artarius prepared beforehand," Jeming thought to himself.
If not for that Eighth Level Wizard withdrawing all troops from the Plane to explain the temporal loop truth, he would still have to waste ti convincing these people now.
And now, all it took was one command.
Soon, the leading Seventh Level Wizard flew in from the command post.
A stern-looking middle-aged man, draped in a silver-gray magic robe, a silver seven-star badge pinned to his chest.
He took the command docunt and examined it thoroughly, his face growing darker.
"So..." The Seventh Level Wizard lifted his head, a flash of realization in his eyes, "We’ve been trapped in this cycle for a long ti, haven’t we?"
"Yes, Lord Frost." Jeming nodded, "According to the observations of command, we have gone through a hundred and thirty-eight cycles."
Frost was silent for two seconds, suddenly sneering, "No wonder the frontline scouts reported a sudden complete change in the enemy’s formation. I thought it was just a delay in intelligence updates..."
He looked at the thousand n behind Jeming, "You are the new variable. Lord Artarius hopes you can break the stalemate?"
"We are the First Combat Squad," Jeming said calmly, "Our task is to gather intelligence in the cycles and probe the enemy’s limits of response."
"Very good." Frost nodded, "Then don’t waste ti. Head to the center position and command formations 203 to 207. Rember—observe carefully, don’t be hasty to risk it all. I need to know the enemy’s changes."
"Understood."
Jeming led his team to fly to the designated position.
The central army was positioned centrally toward the rear on the battlefield, offering a broad view, allowing clear observation of the entire battle situation while being relatively safe.
Surrounded by other Wizard Squads, they nodded to each other in greeting, then proceeded to their positions.
Jeming landed on the command platform, his squad quickly scattering, beginning to check the Rune Cannon Towers and Energy Nodes.
These were standard configurations, present at every command platform.
"Captain, the cannon fodder formations have been connected," the lieutenant reported, "Should we deploy them now?"
"Deploy them." Jeming said, while his Divine Sense had already dived into his Inner Grotto Heaven.
As per usual practice, he should imdiately release the Black Giant Legion to join the forward array.
But as Jeming’s spiritual intent swiftly scanned within his Inner Grotto Heaven, he stiffened.
The originally neatly arrayed five thousand Black Giant Legion now only had half remaining. Two thousand five hundred dark figures stood silently, while another two thousand five hundred... were vacant.
In the empty area, two white tal plates lay on the ground.
One had "1" written on it.
The other had "2."
Jeming’s pupils contracted sharply.
Knowing himself well, he quickly realized sothing.
The number plates... this is my habit of leaving marks for myself.
and 2... I’ve been through two cycles, haven’t I?
He sharply looked toward the recharging platform—three Fire Extinction Divine Light Magic Staves were planted on it, the energy readings showed the recharging progress as 47%, 63%, and 22%.
I’ve already used them.
In the previous cycle, I had already employed my trump cards.
Good news, my Inner Grotto Heaven seems unaffected by ti reversal.
The bad news is, once its contents are extracted, they won’t reset with the cycle.
"Ti Paradox..." Jeming muttered softly.
His Inner Grotto Heaven is essentially an independent small Plane, albeit attached to him, the timing and rules aren’t fully in sync with the Reincarnation Plane.
When ti reverses in the Reincarnation Plane, the tiline within the Grotto Heaven might continue—at least, what has already occurred won’t reverse.
The missing Black Giants were entities "cancelled" by the ti paradox.
They don’t exist on this cycle’s tiline, nor did they return to the Grotto Heaven, just... vanished.
Jeming felt a chill rise up his spine.
This silent disappearance is most terrifying.
Had he not seen it, he wouldn’t have noticed he had already lost half the Black Giant Legion, nor that he had already been through at least two harrowing battles.
"Captain?" The lieutenant’s voice ca, "The enemy is starting to advance."
Jeming forced himself to return to reality, instinctively searching for other intelligence within the Inner Grotto Heaven.
Fortunately, he quickly found it—a small pile of Record Crystals behind the plate marked "2."
It was the intelligence left behind by his previous cycle self.
But the distant enemy was closing in, there was no ti to check it now.
Jeming took a deep breath, bringing his consciousness back to the present.
He waved his hand, an open rift appeared in the Inner Grotto Heaven, hesitated for a mont, and selected a thousand Black Giants from the remaining two thousand five hundred to fall into the cannon fodder formation ahead.
His gaze surpassed his own array, cast into the distance.
On the skyline, black tides were surging.
It was the Insect Army.
Billions of creatures with mantis heads, cockroach bodies, covered in chitinous armor, so crawling, so flying, most even bearing what seed like sophisticated energy weapons.
They emitted a dense "click-clack" sound as they moved, continuous, like an endless downpour.
Behind the black tides, dimly visible were dozens of colossal shadows—advancing to the Seventh Level, each comparable to a mountain.
Further away, in the sky, five suffocating auras lingered.
Eighth Level.
"What a... luxurious lineup." Jeming murmured.
Frost’s voice spread across the army through the Magic Net, "All units, prepare to engage the enemy—rember, this ti we need to change the rhythm! After the first volley, push the left wing forward, the right wing will withdraw and regroup!"
Order issued, the witch army began adjusting formations.
But at this precise ti...
Jeming suddenly sensed the Reaper Race’s army array... also make an adjustnt.
Their flying units began concentrating on the left wing, while their ground forces evidently intensified defenses against the right wing.
As if... they already knew the witches would change formations like this.
"Sure enough." Jeming gripped his Magic Staff tightly, "They rember. Each cycle, they rember."
The black tide suddenly accelerated.
All wizards imdiately heightened their awareness, concentrating their minds to respond.
The enemies began their charge.
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