Chapter 1140: Overload
The air was hot and heavy, It was hard to breathe, but the technicians did their best, running around the shield bunker, replacing foci, and cooling down formation lines.
“We can't manage for much longer! If we don't deactivate, the formation will melt, and the generator overheat! Everything here may explode!” a technician cried out to the golem standing at the control panel.
Azotain observed the people running around as the golem processed the words of the technician.
The shield generator Azotain was in charge of was close to exploding under the pressure. Usually, this pressure was shared with the array of generators that created the barrier covering the Pythian village.
Deactivating the generator would not be a problem, usually. The advantage of a barrier with an array of generators was that if one generator fell out, the barrier would weaken, but not fall. They could cycle for maintenance and save power when there was no immediate threat.
However, if their generator was like this, then all others were experiencing this, too. The knocking of the immortal outside was quickly bringing their “door” to the edge of its durability. If he shut down their shield generator, the barrier would weaken and the load they were currently taking would be directly redistributed to all others.
The Result: Immediate Extermination. All other shield bunkers but this one would explode and the barrier would completely fall.
...
“Well, well, well, look what we have here. A nice little field, ready for a harvest,” a voice suddenly echoed across the crowd assembled at the crossing between the barrier of the Pythian Village and that of Little Gamma.
People who were unwilling to fight, but couldn't cross into Little Gamma, enter the prepared shelters, or didn't dare to leave the Pythian Village before the barrier became a prison, had gathered in this place. There were also about 30 local guards from Little Gamma. Several members of the Guilds had also found their way here.
Everyone looked at the figure trudging down the empty main street leading up to the crossing between barriers. It wasn't a huge figure, but rather scrawny and toned. Their body was covered by a ripped, hooded robe and bandages. in their hand, they held a peculiar, rusty saber.
“What are you doing here, Priest of Corruption?” Tiny of Gamma Resistance stepped forward, his massive hammer resting on his shoulder. The figure came to a halt, staring at the Chosen of Magni blocking his path.
“Just claim some souls for Mother. These maggots of the Cloud Continent are a great harvest,” he clearly voiced his intention to slaughter all the foreigners present here. Tiny sighed, taking the massive hammer from his back.
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