Chapter Fifty: For the Sake of Hope

Contrary to what the fleeing leaders of the Sand People had assumed, Grand Elder Hesen was not dead. In fact, he was still quite healthy.

After all, he was a third-ring psionic, the greatest expert among the Sand People—and on the entire planet. He possessed at least a few ways to preserve his life.

His psionic talent had granted him extraordinary perception, allowing him to sense the approaching danger at once. He immediately unleashed a psionic art. A gigantic stone construct rose from the ground, shielding him beneath its body within the camp. The next second, an ear-splitting explosion pierced the construct’s solid stone frame and seized his hearing. Then the scorching heat and shock wave tore through his scales like blades, penetrating deep into his flesh and marrow. He felt as though every inch of his body were in agony, his organs churning violently, the blood within him seemingly on the verge of boiling dry.

In truth, had Hesen not already been a psionic master who had opened the third ring of his astral chart, and had his constitution not long since surpassed that of an ordinary mortal, all of the above would already have killed him.

After a bout of agony and brief bewilderment, he gradually realized that he had come under artillery fire. And not just any artillery fire—it was coming from the Archi Highlands.

Had the mercenaries rebelled? That was the Grand Elder’s first thought.

An accident during a test shot? No. Someone was staging a revolt! Yes, there were far too many city-state “kings” and tribal “khans” who disliked him. Had they finally decided to move against him? Someone must have bribed those greedy goblins, who would do anything for money.

But this made no sense—no, it truly made no sense! Even if they intended to strike, they should have waited until the Tulong defenders had been utterly crushed! You short-sighted rats. You are simply incapable of plotting anything worthwhile!

For a very long time, the possibility that the heavy artillery positions had been seized by the people of Earth did not enter the Grand Elder’s mind. This was understandable. Hesen was neither a military expert who had undergone rigorous training and intensive study, nor a natural genius of command. He possessed no extraordinary perceptiveness. After all, when one had an army of a million, it was difficult to imagine that anyone would infiltrate one’s own defensive lines, seize every heavy gun, and then turn them against their former owners.

The heavy artillery continued bombarding the camp for an unknown number of salvos. Just as the Grand Elder decided that he was truly going to die beneath the rubble, someone finally dug through the shattered stone construct and pulled him out.

“Teacher! Thank goodness… you’re alive! Thank goodness!”

It took the Grand Elder several seconds to regain consciousness. His vision slowly changed from chaos to blur. The constantly shaking world, the intense light and heat pouring in from every direction, and the thunderous explosions still occupied the overwhelming majority of Hesen’s senses. Even so, he could just barely make out the other person’s features.

“Mixin…”

The Grand Elder’s most prized disciple let out a long breath. The fact that her teacher could recognize her meant that he was not only alive, but apparently not a fool either. She hurriedly reached out and helped him to his feet.

The Grand Elder bared his teeth and drew in a breath, forcing down the pain as he looked around. Yet he still could not see anything clearly.

“What happened? Has someone rebelled? Hanrat? Jamei? Or someone else…”

Mixin shouted, “Teacher, the people of Earth have seized our heavy artillery positions!”

Hesen stared blankly for a second, then shook his head. “That… that’s impossible. We…”

“Teacher, it has already happened! And the defenders inside Tulong Port have also launched an attack! We’ve been routed! Please, you must decide what we should do!”

The Grand Elder remained dazed for another second. Then he viciously bit down on his tongue, forcing all the confusion from his mind. He rose to his feet and rasped, “Where are the others? What about Windfist?”

Mixin lowered her head heavily.

The “others” whom the Grand Elder meant were naturally not the troops belonging to the various lords and chieftains. He was referring to a thousand-man guard personally commanded by his disciples—probably the most highly organized force the Sand People had ever produced. As a guard, however, they had naturally been stationed around the main camp. They had also been the first targets of the bombardment.

“I see…” The Grand Elder looked at Mixin, who was covered in wounds as well, and sighed.

“Teacher, most of the people are fleeing. The situation here cannot be salvaged. But as long as we’re alive, there is still a chance!” Mixin said.

Hesen gritted his teeth and nodded. “Yes, there’s still a chance! Let’s go… Wait. Mixin, where is Kaz Khan? Have you seen him?”

Mixin shook her head. She had been knocked unconscious herself and, upon waking, had immediately come to dig him out. How could she have had time to worry about anyone else?

“We have to save him! He is the future! We’re going to him!” Hesen declared.

Mixin naturally did not object. Partly, her teacher was like a god in her eyes. Partly, she had her own small reasons.

She helped her teacher up and looked around. To her surprise, she spotted a large raptor nearby, barely alive. Mixin hurried over and poured her psionic energy into its body. She was a Believer, and intended to develop along a branch of the Pure Star Ring’s path.

Her abilities focused on restoration, healing, infection, and encouragement—in plain terms, she was a healer. Of course, as a first-ring psionic, she could not truly resurrect the dead or restore flesh to bare bones. At most, she could use her psionic power to draw out all of the target’s vitality at once, temporarily restoring its ability to move.

Mixin helped the Grand Elder climb onto the raptor’s back. After judging their direction, she prepared to ride toward Kaz Khan’s encampment. But the two of them and their mount had traveled only a short distance when they ran straight into a large mass of fleeing Sand People.

“Stop! Stop! Turn back and fight! You are the children of Wanu! You are the masters of this planet! Take up your weapons! Turn back and fight! Why are you running? Why are you fleeing before your teacher?”

The young Mixin stood atop the raptor’s back and shouted at the crowd with all her strength. But the artillery and gunfire drowned out her voice. The terrified Sand People, who had scarcely been able to distinguish one day from the next, could not even see the road ahead. They only knew to flee with the surging mass of humanity like walking corpses, and naturally failed to notice Mixin and the Grand Elder.

“You cowards! Stop right now!” Mixin roared.

The word-command power condensed from her psionic energy exploded outward like a thunderclap from nowhere, completely overpowering the artillery for an instant. Many Sand People were struck head-on by the sound, and to everyone’s surprise, they actually began to recover from their panic.

“Lady Mixin?”

“The Grand Elder!”

“It’s the Grand Elder!”

The Sand People who had regained their senses saw Hesen atop the raptor. They immediately ignored the fact that he was visibly gravely wounded and barely breathing. Many of them threw themselves to the ground and began kowtowing.

“Grand Elder, save us!”

“Save everyone!”

“Please guide us once more!”

More and more of the fleeing Sand People came to a halt. Even civilized societies were subject to the herd instinct. People might flee because others were fleeing, but they could also regain their courage when they saw others moving against the current.

Hesen gave Mixin an approving look. Had his prized disciple not turned the tide through the power of her word-command, he—the Grand Elder, a third-ring Wizard—would probably have been more fragile before the routed soldiers than a dead tree in a flash flood.

A higher ring did not necessarily mean greater strength, much less universal capability. Under the right circumstances, a low-level Awakened whose abilities produced a specific effect could be more useful than even a master or saint.

The Grand Elder felt that he truly ought to give serious thought to how different psionics could be employed in warfare. But such “advanced” tactics were apparently still far beyond the Sand People of the present.

“Get up and form ranks at once! Which of you has served as an officer? Get up and take charge of organizing the ranks!”

There really were several officers among the routed soldiers. There was even a war leader and a centurion, the highest-ranking military officials serving under the “kings” and “khans.” Encouraged by the Grand Elder and Mixin, they finally began to work. Unfortunately, they were not the sort of brilliant commanders who could gather and disperse soldiers at will. It took them nearly twenty minutes to reorganize roughly five hundred people.

Still a rabble. The Grand Elder discreetly shook his head, though he supposed that something was better than nothing.

He did not expect to lead this group in a counterattack. If they could protect him while rescuing Kaz Khan, and if he could use that as a foundation to gather more of the routed soldiers, then at least they would not have lost absolutely everything.

“We…”

The Grand Elder was preparing to rally everyone when crimson beams began raining down upon the crowd. Many Sand People were pierced through on the spot, their flesh and organs evaporated within the holes bored through them. When the beams struck the ground, however, they erupted into explosions, spreading into surging shock waves that tore relentlessly at the bodies of those nearby.

The Sand People had only just recovered the slightest trace of courage. Now they vanished in an instant, like soap bubbles drifting into a raging fire. This time, there was no word-command to restore their morale.

A series of energy beams exploded beside the raptor, flinging the teacher and disciple from its back.

Fortunately, Hesen had recovered a little of his strength by then. He gathered the surrounding air with his psionic power, cushioning both himself and Mixin. They suffered little impact when they landed. Through the chaos of the crowd, his gaze finally caught sight of figures in powered armor in the distance, along with a Godguard tank.

“Godguard” was the official name the Sand People’s lords had agreed upon for their “patchwork monster” tanks. The name sounded imposing enough, but in essence the vehicles were merely piles of components from multiple countries bolted together like building blocks.

Hesen knew perfectly well that tanks of this quality would never be taken seriously in the galactic heartlands. He also knew that on this remote planet, they remained the most powerful weapons of war.

Whatever else might be said of them, these were genuine tanks equipped with armor, shields, and ion cannons. They were at least far more formidable than the Black Panther armored vehicles used by the garrison.

He had persuaded every tribe and city-state to strip themselves bare and purchase two hundred of them from those “partners.” He had always believed they would become the decisive weapon for breaking through the Tulong defenses. Yet so far, the tanks had killed far fewer enemies than allies, and once they fell into enemy hands, they became nightmares for their former owners.

“We should have listened to Kaz. Once we had the tanks, we should have trained for at least a year and organized them into a separate force before expecting them to become combat-effective!”

Hesen clenched his teeth and seized Mixin, hauling her upright.

“Hurry. Go find Kaz!”

“Teacher…”

“Go! I’ll hold them off!”

Mixin was on the verge of tears, but her teacher had already shoved her away. By the time she realized what had happened, psionic power had carried her more than a hundred meters away.

“Remember! He is the future! Help him! Support him! Give us hope!”

After leaving his disciple those final instructions, Hesen charged fearlessly toward the direction from which the enemy was advancing.