Unexpectedly, the Nine-Headed Wyrm did not attack the transport convoys, leaving Marshal Silver deeply perplexed.
At first, things were manageable. Even though the Nine-Headed Wyrm did not strike, the Heavenly Fleet could at least sense his presence nearby. As long as the enemy had not given up, they had reason to persist. But after a day, even the shadow of the Nine-Headed Wyrm was nowhere to be seen.
"Could he really have given up?" Marshal Silver wondered, frowning.
From the Nine-Headed Wyrm's initial behavior of trailing the convoys for a while, Marshal Silver could at least conclude he had not given up; at most, it showed the enemy was being cautious.
Fishing is a test of patience.
Against all opposition, Marshal Silver was determined to continue the 'fishing' operation.
Thus, the Heavenly Fleet's core combat strength—the Heavenly Generals at the Spirit-Transformation level and above—were divided into four groups, shuttling back and forth between Cloudrealm Sky Harbor and Cloudwatch Harbor.
At first, the Heavenly Generals cooperated fully; after all, everyone understood the situation. But as time dragged on, most began to feel like a joke.
Just think—these Heavenly Generals, each a commander in their own right, were gathered together and stuffed into cramped ship holds for an ambush. For the first day or two, everyone was on edge, waiting for an attack. But after two days?
Nothing happened. Gradually, doubts about the strategy crept in among the Heavenly Generals. Of course, given Marshal Silver's supreme authority, none dared voice their concerns aloud.
Several days passed—three, four, five, six, seven—and still, nothing happened; the calm persisted.
Still crammed in the ship holds and ferried about like cargo, the Heavenly Generals began to resent this pig-like existence. Of course, they dared not openly question Marshal Silver, so they took to openly mocking their own miserable situation, while cursing that damned Nine-Headed Wyrm.
Marshal Silver persisted, so the "fishing" operation continued.
In the blink of an eye, half a month had passed, and still no new attacks occurred. By this time, all sorts of complaints had been tactfully written into military reports and delivered to Marshal Silver's desk.
Looking at the ten military reports sent from the ship holds, Marshal Silver pondered repeatedly and finally decided to personally respond to them as a gesture of reassurance.
However, this decision was clearly a mistake.
After receiving his reassurances, the military reports did not subside; instead, they grew even more frequent, as if encouraged. Think about it—hundreds of Heavenly Generals stuck in ship holds, with nothing to do but joke and banter; if they didn't find new ways to complain to Marshal Silver, what else could they do?
Thus, a farcical scene unfolded.
In the ship holds, the Skyward Legionnaires could see clusters of Heavenly Generals sitting on the floor, each holding a bamboo slip and brush, lost in thought, quoting classics, discussing ancient and modern affairs, using the most tactful language possible to urge Marshal Silver to end the operation—and occasionally breaking into heated debates about whether a particular word should be used.
Some Heavenly Generals, suddenly feeling their literary skills lacking, even arranged for books to be brought into the ship holds so they could study and improve.
They couldn't hold out any longer—truly, they couldn't.
Helpless, Marshal Silver had no choice but to sign the order restoring normal transport—but he did not authorize the resumption of normal patrols, nor did he formally end the "fishing" operation.
Thus, the four small squadrons serving as "bait" could only blend in with the other fleets, continuing their shuttle between Cloudwatch Harbor and Cloudrealm Sky Harbor. The Heavenly Generals had to keep enduring their pig-like existence, ferried back and forth.
Of course, this was better. With normal transport restored, could the rest be far behind? The Heavenly Generals trapped in the ship holds finally saw a glimmer of hope.
Yet at that moment, a tragic event occurred.
With the surge in transport volume, the Nine-Headed Wyrm led another surprise attack on one of the regular fleets.
Thanks to previous experience, the Heavenly Generals in the transport fleet were fully prepared for a raid this time. Unlike before, they did not suffer total annihilation—only about four hundred Skyward Legionnaires were killed or wounded. The remaining four hundred managed to escape.
Four hundred Skyward Legionnaires, in a Heavenly Fleet of six hundred thousand, was barely a drop in the bucket—trivial in numbers, but the impact of this incident was extremely negative.
It was as if Blossom Mountain was reminding Marshal Silver: the war is not over, and it will continue!
Gripping that battle report bamboo slip, Marshal Silver's hand actually trembled.
"No news from the Heavenly Court yet?" he asked.
Standing behind him, General Ward pursed his lips and replied, "Still nothing. But it should be soon. Estimated at most... another half year..."
"Half a year?" Marshal Silver's eyes widened, and he slammed his fist heavily on the windowsill.
With a dull thud, wood chips flew, and the entire windowsill split open.
"Are we supposed to spend half a year like this?" Marshal Silver laughed coldly.
General Ward lowered his head slightly and did not answer.
In all these years, facing demons, he had never seen Marshal Silver lose his composure like this.
The war hadn't even formally begun, yet the entire Heavenly Fleet had already been driven to such a state. This opponent, in both intellect and cultivation, far surpassed their expectations.
After a long silence, Marshal Silver suddenly spoke: "If we cannot 'strike where the enemy must defend,' then we can only 'guard where the enemy must attack.'"
"Marshal, you mean...?"
"Notify South Heaven Gate: we're sending someone to bring Nate back. Make sure King Virūḍhaka leaks this news to Blossom Mountain." he said through gritted teeth.
The order was issued, and the gears of war began to turn once more.
From that moment, the main story entered a new phase—a war of patience, psychology, and maneuver.
Monkey’s guerrilla doctrine forced Heaven into costly defensive postures and political deadlock.
Marshal Silver, under mounting pressure and without clear support from the Heavenly Court, searched for ways to reclaim the initiative.
He would exploit Blossom Mountain’s thirst for vengeance—starting with the symbolic return of General Nate.
Thus, the curtain rises on the next act of this epic struggle.
No one could predict what would come next.
The war between Heaven and Blossom Mountain was far from over.
And in this game of patience and strategy, every move would decide the fate of gods and demons alike.
End of Chapter 274.