214 Tactics 2 (1/2)

Everyone was stunned. Snow? What was the point of that?

Suddenly, Airic realized something, 'The land… It's not elevating even though the Phantus commander called for it?' Confusion covered his features until his eyes widened, 'THE JAVELIN!?'

The Phantus were beginning to panic. They were less than five hundred yards from clashing with the Earth gate army, but, their momentum was being slowly crushed.

Not only was their footing being ruined by the ice piling on the ground, their scaled elephants were noticeably slowing!

Commander Draven roared in anger, ”You damned beast! Move!”

But, there was no response. The usually rowdy and vicious scaled elephant had lost its fire. The water that had coated its skin was slowly icing over, and although that wasn't enough to encase it in ice, something else entirely different was happening.

The charge of the elephants slowed…

Four hundred meters….

Three hundred and fifty meters…

Three hundred meters…

And suddenly, ten of them stopped, collapsing to the ground. Their breathing was nearly non-existent, their robust scales covered in a sheet of thin ice.

The last of them, Commander Draven's pride and joy, let out a sound that resembled nothing more than a whimper.

Its foot lifted in a final act of defiance, but, the cold was too much.

BOOM!

And just like that, the mighty scaled elephants fell into a deep hibernating sleep.

Everything was silent.

The Phantus God Clan didn't know what to do. Their Commander and Vice commanders had lost their beasts, they couldn't elevate the ground to gain a topical advantage, and now they were ten thousand against hundreds of thousands.

Commander Draven shook violently, standing on the head of his collapsed beast, 'Not like this. I refuse!'

All eyes were drawn to the young man standing in the sky beside of woman of unmatched beauty.

His battle changpao seemed untainted even by the falling snow, but there was not a drop of surprise on his face. It was clear that to him, there was no doubt in success.

In all these years the Martial world had ignored a glaring weakness of the Phantus. In fact, the weakness was never exposed only because the beasts usually played a defensive role near the gate entrance of the opposing universe. This meant that the weather they experienced was stable.

Although Dyon didn't know what tricks they had used to make it here unscathed with such large beasts, he had analyzed each god clan he might face in this campaign. The weaknesses of each were firmly etched into his mind, whether they were aware of them or not. And the Phantus, could not escape the cold-blooded nature of their beasts.

Warm-blooded creatures were special. They had the ability to use food as an energy source for heat, resulting in a constant body temperature. However, cold-blooded creatures relied on the environment around them to dictate their internal temperature… Which meant, as long as it was cold enough, they would begin to hibernate.

Dyon's voice resounded in the ears of his Vice Commanders, not giving the Phantus any time to regroup, ”Reform!”

The checkered formation immediately reappeared, the three companies remaining in the middle while 50-man platoons arranged around them.

”Flanked attack variation.”

The rumbling of moving troops snapped everyone out of their stupor. They were suddenly very much aware that this wasn't over.

Commander Draven looked up, apprehensive about the situation. But, a flame of anger suddenly raged in his heart when he noticed only a thousand men were charging. And, from his vantage point on the ground, the formation looked as ordinary as could be.

”Men!” Commander Draven's enraged voice boomed through the battle field, ”They dare to look down on us like this. Attacking with a mere thousand. Crush them!”

A furious blaze was lit in the heart of the Phantus warriors. To only attack them with a thousand? Even when they could have attacked with more? This was nothing less than a slap in the face.

Commander Draven smirked, 'You are too young. Your little tricks are clever, but you know nothing of the art of battle. You form drones out of your men, while I take into account the heart of mine. You won't win if your army has no morale.”

Draven watched happily as Dyon stood in the air as though he was king. But, to everyone else, Dyon was too naïve.

However, how long would that really last?… Dyon's voice boomed, laced with a compelling power that seemed to stifle even the rumbling of the battle field.

”Demon Generals. Remind them who you are.”

A blood lust seemed to begin dripping from the skies.