Ground-clearing operations against the demons have come to a complete halt—or rather, they simply can't continue any longer.
Now, the question of whether the demons can be swiftly exterminated is no longer the Heavenly Fleet's primary concern.
A light warship was summoned from the outer ring to the Fleet's core, and Skyward Legionnaires began carrying some of their own on stretchers onto that ship.
As time passed, more and more Skyward Legionnaires collapsed without warning. That light warship was quickly replaced by a heavy warship, and soon even one heavy warship was not enough...
Right before their eyes, the most elite units of the Heavenly Fleet were slowly unraveling.
Marshal Silver's cabin was packed with Heavenly Generals, a bleak atmosphere filling every corner—utter silence.
After a long while, an elder general pushed open the cabin door and entered, bowing slightly: "Marshal."
"How is it?" Marshal Silver stood with his back to him, gazing expressionlessly through the round window at the distant summit of Frost-Rain Mountain.
"It's definitely Plague Toxin. And... the time of infection wasn't yesterday during the day, nor after today's offensive—it was... at dawn."
"At dawn?"
The Heavenly Generals began whispering among themselves.
"Yes." The elder general replied respectfully, "At dawn."
"Did anything unusual happen at dawn today?" Marshal Silver asked.
The Heavenly Generals exchanged uneasy glances.
After a moment, a young Heavenly General hesitated, stepped forward, and knelt on one knee: "Reporting to the Marshal, some soldiers said they heard strange noises at dawn."
"Strange noises? Be specific!" Marshal Silver barked sharply.
His deep voice echoed through the small cabin, leaving every Heavenly General shaken.
The young Heavenly General pressed his lips together, sweat already beading on his forehead.
After a long hesitation, he gritted his teeth and spoke softly: "There... there was a bottle of unknown origin thrown into the middle of our Fleet, and then it exploded..."
Marshal Silver's eye twitched slightly. He slowly closed his eyes, gripping the edge of the table until his knuckles cracked.
How did it come to this?
"It was my fault. At the time... I never imagined it would turn out like this, so I didn't report it... and that led to our current predicament. I accept any punishment, Marshal—please pass judgment!"
With that, the Heavenly General kowtowed heavily, not daring to rise for a long time.
Such a mistake—surely he won't survive this... But is it truly his fault? If anyone else present had been in his place, would they have noticed?
Every Heavenly General in the room held their breath, staring at Marshal Silver's back.
Marshal Silver parted his lips slightly, but no words came out.
He simply stood there, dazed, for a long, long time before finally waving his hand to stop the Heavenly General, murmuring: "Go. I need some time alone."
His voice trembled ever so slightly.
At his words, the Heavenly Generals all bowed their heads and withdrew, leaving only General Nate and General Quinn behind.
Once the doors were tightly shut, Marshal Silver asked softly, "How much of the backup antidote do we have prepared this time?"
General Nate bowed and said, "Because time was short and we couldn't ship them by boat, we only have about five hundred doses. There are already six hundred and eighty people unconscious, and we're still investigating the exact number infected. Those showing symptoms... about twenty thousand."
"Marshal, you must make plans quickly," urged General Quinn.
Make plans quickly? But how?
Outside the window, the stars glittered. Starlight spilled through the round window onto Marshal Silver's face—his eyes wide, bloodshot, faintly glowing.
Twenty thousand...
Even with the elixir, it would take at least six days to recover. And unlike Plague Toxin, which only needs a small bottle and water can be sourced on site, the elixir requires vast quantities of supplies.
Bathed in starlight, his eyes began to tremble, thoughts tangled in his mind with no solution in sight.
To deliver a large quantity of elixir here, even if every high-ranking Heavenly General helped carry it, it would take at least two days.
Right now, there's not enough manpower. If we pull people away for this, we'll only be vulnerable to a surprise attack...
If we use warships, it's even worse—by the time a ship lumbers out from Cloudwatch Harbor and arrives here, it will be ten days or more.
With such a massive number of wounded, the entire army is already paralyzed...
In a crisis like this, what should our plan be? What options do we have?
A bitter smile flickered across his face.
Seeing Marshal Silver remain silent, General Quinn spoke up cautiously: "Marshal, in my opinion, our forces should temporarily withdraw from Frost-Rain Mountain."
"Withdraw?" General Nate snorted coldly.
General Quinn glanced at Marshal Silver, then at General Nate. He reached for the large map from the paper tube beside him, unrolled it across the table, and traced a line with his finger: "Our only option now is to rely on seawater. If we depart north from here at full speed, it would take just three days for our forces to reach the coastline..."
"Have you considered the problem with the Heavenly Court?" Nate asked.
"The Heavenly Court?"
"The use of Plaguewater this time will certainly reach the Heavenly Court. Never mind the countless people eager to report us—even the Ten Judges of the Underworld, upon receiving so many souls dead from Plaguewater, will surely report to Heaven. By then, not only have we used Plaguewater, but we've also suffered defeat. How do you think we should answer Heaven's questioning?"
"We aren't defeated, we're only making a temporary retreat!" Quinn argued.
"Does it make any difference?" Nate snapped. "Do you think the distinction between a temporary retreat and defeat means anything when it's brought up in the High Sky Throne Hall? Those immortals won't listen to your explanations—they're just waiting for a chance to throw stones down the well! When Heaven's orders come down, what then? Who will continue the demon-suppression campaign?"
"So, you think we should hold our ground?" Quinn's voice suddenly rose. "Do you even know the situation? There are twenty thousand showing symptoms on the surface, but they were infected with Plague Toxin at dawn. Once twelve hours pass, how many will show symptoms—fifty thousand, sixty thousand? How will we fight at Frost-Rain Mountain while caring for the wounded? Or do you think we should just abandon them?"
Quinn glared at Nate, his voice now a furious shout, thick with tension.
Nate fell silent, unable to respond.
Reason told him the Milky Way Fleet could not afford defeat, not even a temporary retreat. But did that mean letting fifty or sixty thousand soldiers die here?
If they died on the battlefield, that was one thing—the Milky Way Fleet had always been fearless. But to die sick in their beds...
Mouth tight, Nate looked toward Marshal Silver, who had remained silent.
Marshal Silver slowly turned, walked quietly to his seat, and sat down.
He sat there, blank-faced and motionless.
After a long while, he finally spoke with a sigh: "Quinn..."
"Yes, Marshal," Quinn replied, bowing slightly.
Marshal Silver drew a deep breath and spoke softly: "We cannot retreat."
Quinn did not respond, maintaining his bowed posture.
"We cannot retreat—because we have no way to retreat. The situation is far worse than you imagine. If we withdraw now, the enemy will know we are beyond saving. They will pursue us all the way, and with so many wounded, we cannot maintain full speed. Four days, perhaps more. With limited elites, can we guard every corner? If they press us, even ten days may not be enough to reach the coast. This is a crisis—we must use a different strategy."
...
About fifteen minutes later, Quinn and Nate pushed open the cabin door and walked out side by side, silent as they headed up to the deck.
"I have a question—where did the enemy get their Plague Toxin?" Quinn asked quietly.
"Isn't it obvious?" Nate replied grimly. "It's either Crescent Star Cave or Guang River Estuary. We already know Blossom Mountain is connected to both."
"Does Guang River Estuary have Plague Toxin? As far as I know, they're the only Heavenly unit not officially issued Plague Toxin."
"Then it must be Crescent Star Cave."
"If Crescent Star Cave is willing to supply Plague Toxin, then..."
The two men exchanged glances, falling instantly silent.
After a long pause, Nate sighed: "We'll take it one step at a time. In our current situation, we can't plan too far ahead. Let's just hope Crescent Star Cave doesn't get too deeply involved, or else..."