Chapter 141: The Debate Between Defense and Offense
The main conference hall of the Western Front Command Center was illuminated day and night. The cold white lights fell upon the long, solid wood conference table, reflecting the mountain-like stacks of casualty reports and wasteland terrain maps piled along its edges. On the map, the purple markers representing phantom arrays were densely spreading outward. Concentric dark red quarantine zones, like festering wounds, were constantly swallowing the patrol routes that had once been passable.
All third-tier and above Sea of Consciousness cultivators, the war zone commander, the intelligence director, and the heavy firepower squad commanders were present. The air was so heavy it was almost suffocating. The core of today's meeting was a single matter: for the Western Front's next move, should they continue to proactively push forward for clearance, or should they completely shrink their defensive line, abandon the vast outer wasteland, and rely on the main bastion to defend to the death?
The deputy commander of the war zone, Zhou Chong, spoke first. His fingertips heavily tapped the thick black defensive line stretching across the east and west on the map. His voice was hoarse, carrying the exhaustion of days of taut nerves.
"In the past month, we have lost a total of seven third-tier cultivators to casualties or severe injuries requiring treatment. Originally, the Western Front had nine third-tiers and two fourth-tiers. Now, only four, including Lin Yan and Gu Shen, are stable enough for regular duty. The rate of attrition of our high-tier Sea of Consciousness combat power has already exceeded the training speed of the combat readiness academies."
A statistical table popped up on the projection screen. The red casualty numbers stung the eyes.
"The matrix no longer launches large-scale beast tide decisive battles; instead, it uses phantom arrays to continuously bleed us dry. Every time we go out to investigate, blast, or take samples, we face extremely high risks of psychic damage. If we continue to maintain high-frequency, long-line patrol clearance, within two months, the manpower capable of leading the discrimination of phantom arrays on the Western Front will be completely exhausted."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room. "My proposal is to shrink. Cancel all outer temporary supply points and long-distance patrol routes. Pull our operational range back to within fifteen kilometers outside the main bastion. Everything beyond fifteen kilometers will be designated as a permanent uninhabited quarantine zone. We will only maintain remote detection base stations and drone inspections, and no longer send living squads deep inside. We must prioritize preserving our remaining Sea of Consciousness forces and defend the bastion itself."
As his words fell, a low commotion arose in the conference hall.
A battalion commander from the pro-war faction immediately stood up to rebut, his fists clenched. "Shrinking means handing over the entire frontline wasteland to the ancient lizard progeny on a silver platter! A quarantine zone isn't a vacuum cage; it's the matrix's testing ground and breeding ground! If we take a step back, it can iterate its phantom arrays, stockpile scaled beasts, and excavate rift channels within the quarantine zone without any interference. If we retreat fifteen kilometers today, and next month its traps are laid at the foot of the bastion, where else will we retreat to?"
"If we don't retreat, what do we use to push forward?" Zhou Chong raised his eyes, his tone icy. "By continuously sending Sea of Consciousness cultivators into the staggered-timing chained phantom arrays to fill the lines? Are the soldiers trapped in the corridors, those comrades whose spirits are completely ruined and who will have to lie in monitoring pods for the rest of their lives, not enough of a reminder of the cost? What we must defend are the hundreds of thousands of civilians inside the bastion, not a piece of wasteland covered in traps that we can't take back."
The viewpoints on both sides collided fiercely, and neither could convince the other.
The head of the psychiatry department, Instructor Wen, stood up and brought up the analysis reports of all recent phantom array samples. The projection showed dense resonance graphs and timing link models.
"From a tactical perspective, we have fallen into a passive cycle. The matrix has mastered all our disposal rules ahead of time. Every time we change a contingency plan, it can quickly evolve a corresponding counter-trap. The emergence of the staggered-timing phantom array proves that the arrays can now operate autonomously, detached from real-time control. Relying solely on heavy firepower blasting and long-distance marking can only delay, not eradicate."
She paused slightly. "But completely abandoning the frontline carries equally huge risks. The intelligence team has confirmed that in some quarantine zones, lizard priests will personally enter to set up phantom arrays and coordinate the scaled beast clans beneath the rifts. The quarantine zone will become its buffer zone and training ground."
Gu Shen, sitting beside Lin Yan, whispered into Lin Yan's ear, "Neither side is wrong; it's just a difference in trade-offs. Defending preserves the people we have right now; fighting bets on long-term survival. But we don't have enough chips to accommodate both."
Lin Yan listened quietly to everyone's debate, his gaze falling on the black dot on the map deep inside, marked as Rift No. 79. All the phantom seeds and scaled beasts originated from there. The endless traps on the outer wasteland were essentially just consumables continuously transported out from the rift.
Someone proposed a compromise: reduce the frequency of patrols, stop full-area investigations, and only retain fixed-point inspections for a few key supply channels, abandoning active clearance in the remaining areas. This proposal was weighed repeatedly, but it was still full of loopholes—the matrix could completely set up chained phantom arrays along the remaining few channels, turning the only surviving paths into death traps.
The debate lasted for over three hours. It wasn't until the middle of the night that a compromise resolution was barely finalized.
First, cancel all long-distance, long-line patrols. The operational range of all external squads is strictly limited to within ten kilometers outside the bastion. Beyond ten kilometers, the entire area is designated as a high-risk quarantine zone. Personnel are forbidden from entering on foot; only drones and remote detection base stations will be maintained for monitoring.
Second, the heavy firepower squads will no longer proactively enter the quarantine zone for clearance. They will only launch remote strikes when a phantom array is detected approaching the ten-kilometer warning line.
Third, the combat readiness academies will accelerate the screening and crash training of Sea of Consciousness cultivators. However, crash training will significantly increase the probability of permanent hidden injuries to the Sea of Consciousness, and the elimination and disability rates of the trainees will multiply.
When the resolution was read out, the conference hall fell into dead silence.
This was a compromise, a concession. Humanity was actively closing its fingers, handing the vast wasteland over to the alien race beneath the earth.
After the meeting, Lin Yan and Gu Shen walked out of the command building side by side. The cold wind from the city walls blew into their faces, carrying the unique, bloody chill of the wasteland.
"A ten-kilometer circle." Gu Shen looked at the heavy gray fog outside the city and sighed. "Twenty-five years ago, when the rift broke out, humanity fought desperately to take back the land. Today, we are voluntarily returning vast tracts of land to the underground."
"It's not the end," Lin Yan said softly. "The matrix's goal has never been to occupy the wasteland. The wasteland is merely its chessboard, and the phantom arrays are its pieces. It wants to consume our Sea of Consciousness combat power. Once our high-tier cultivators are exhausted, the bastion's defensive line will be its true target."
"But right now, we have no other choice."
Over the next two days, the Western Front quickly executed the shrinking order. The outer temporary outposts and supply stations were withdrawn one after another. The warning signs on the roads were dismantled, and drone squadrons took to the sky, setting up early warning spectrum base stations along the edge of the quarantine zone. The patrol convoys that had once frequently shuttled through the old paths, quarry pits, and ruins suddenly became much rarer.
The atmosphere inside the bastion also quietly changed.
The civilians on the streets vaguely sensed the tense situation. The training intensity at the combat readiness academies suddenly increased. The combat arenas and Sea of Consciousness practical training rooms operated day and night without rest, pushing batch after batch of young people onto the crash cultivation track. Everyone knew clearly that the defensive line was shrinking, and the danger was slowly approaching.
At dusk, two days later, an encrypted intelligence report reached the squad.
A drone, deep within the quarantine zone, on the outskirts of an abandoned underground mining city, captured a dense cluster of psychic signals. It wasn't just the dormant waves of phantom seeds; there were also the uniquely higher-frequency psychic fluctuations belonging to the ancient lizard progeny priests.
"It's not just one priest; it's at least three priests coordinating to set up a large-scale phantom array cluster." Lu Heng spread the encrypted message on the table, looking at Lin Yan and Gu Shen. "The command center won't dispatch a large squad inside, but they need a small reconnaissance squad to observe from a distance on the high ground at the edge of the quarantine zone and record the layout patterns. Observation only. Absolutely do not cross the quarantine red line. Once discovered, retreat immediately."
This was one of the few tentacles actively reaching into the quarantine zone after the defensive line had shrunk.
Lin Yan's fingertips gently pressed against the location of his Sea of Consciousness hidden injury. A faint, hidden pain came. He nodded. "I'll go."
Gu Shen followed up. "I'll partner with you. Dual-person backup."
Chen Ye and Zhao Kai volunteered to go as well. The four-man squad traveled light, carrying no heavy blasting equipment, only detection instruments, communication devices, and short-range suppressors. The mission objective was to see clearly from afar: what was the difference between the phantom arrays personally built by the priests and those autonomously deployed by the matrix before?
Night fell. The vehicles quietly drove out of the West Gate, following the newly designated safe route, creeping toward the observation high ground at the edge of the quarantine zone.
Deep within the darkness of the mining city inside the quarantine zone, three cold priest psychic powers were resonating and intertwining with the underground hyphae.
The matrix no longer relied solely on autonomously deployed phantom seeds.
The ancient lizard progeny had personally stepped onto the board to play this game of attrition.
All third-tier and above Sea of Consciousness cultivators, the war zone commander, the intelligence director, and the heavy firepower squad commanders were present. The air was so heavy it was almost suffocating. The core of today's meeting was a single matter: for the Western Front's next move, should they continue to proactively push forward for clearance, or should they completely shrink their defensive line, abandon the vast outer wasteland, and rely on the main bastion to defend to the death?
The deputy commander of the war zone, Zhou Chong, spoke first. His fingertips heavily tapped the thick black defensive line stretching across the east and west on the map. His voice was hoarse, carrying the exhaustion of days of taut nerves.
"In the past month, we have lost a total of seven third-tier cultivators to casualties or severe injuries requiring treatment. Originally, the Western Front had nine third-tiers and two fourth-tiers. Now, only four, including Lin Yan and Gu Shen, are stable enough for regular duty. The rate of attrition of our high-tier Sea of Consciousness combat power has already exceeded the training speed of the combat readiness academies."
A statistical table popped up on the projection screen. The red casualty numbers stung the eyes.
"The matrix no longer launches large-scale beast tide decisive battles; instead, it uses phantom arrays to continuously bleed us dry. Every time we go out to investigate, blast, or take samples, we face extremely high risks of psychic damage. If we continue to maintain high-frequency, long-line patrol clearance, within two months, the manpower capable of leading the discrimination of phantom arrays on the Western Front will be completely exhausted."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room. "My proposal is to shrink. Cancel all outer temporary supply points and long-distance patrol routes. Pull our operational range back to within fifteen kilometers outside the main bastion. Everything beyond fifteen kilometers will be designated as a permanent uninhabited quarantine zone. We will only maintain remote detection base stations and drone inspections, and no longer send living squads deep inside. We must prioritize preserving our remaining Sea of Consciousness forces and defend the bastion itself."
As his words fell, a low commotion arose in the conference hall.
A battalion commander from the pro-war faction immediately stood up to rebut, his fists clenched. "Shrinking means handing over the entire frontline wasteland to the ancient lizard progeny on a silver platter! A quarantine zone isn't a vacuum cage; it's the matrix's testing ground and breeding ground! If we take a step back, it can iterate its phantom arrays, stockpile scaled beasts, and excavate rift channels within the quarantine zone without any interference. If we retreat fifteen kilometers today, and next month its traps are laid at the foot of the bastion, where else will we retreat to?"
"If we don't retreat, what do we use to push forward?" Zhou Chong raised his eyes, his tone icy. "By continuously sending Sea of Consciousness cultivators into the staggered-timing chained phantom arrays to fill the lines? Are the soldiers trapped in the corridors, those comrades whose spirits are completely ruined and who will have to lie in monitoring pods for the rest of their lives, not enough of a reminder of the cost? What we must defend are the hundreds of thousands of civilians inside the bastion, not a piece of wasteland covered in traps that we can't take back."
The viewpoints on both sides collided fiercely, and neither could convince the other.
The head of the psychiatry department, Instructor Wen, stood up and brought up the analysis reports of all recent phantom array samples. The projection showed dense resonance graphs and timing link models.
"From a tactical perspective, we have fallen into a passive cycle. The matrix has mastered all our disposal rules ahead of time. Every time we change a contingency plan, it can quickly evolve a corresponding counter-trap. The emergence of the staggered-timing phantom array proves that the arrays can now operate autonomously, detached from real-time control. Relying solely on heavy firepower blasting and long-distance marking can only delay, not eradicate."
She paused slightly. "But completely abandoning the frontline carries equally huge risks. The intelligence team has confirmed that in some quarantine zones, lizard priests will personally enter to set up phantom arrays and coordinate the scaled beast clans beneath the rifts. The quarantine zone will become its buffer zone and training ground."
Gu Shen, sitting beside Lin Yan, whispered into Lin Yan's ear, "Neither side is wrong; it's just a difference in trade-offs. Defending preserves the people we have right now; fighting bets on long-term survival. But we don't have enough chips to accommodate both."
Lin Yan listened quietly to everyone's debate, his gaze falling on the black dot on the map deep inside, marked as Rift No. 79. All the phantom seeds and scaled beasts originated from there. The endless traps on the outer wasteland were essentially just consumables continuously transported out from the rift.
Someone proposed a compromise: reduce the frequency of patrols, stop full-area investigations, and only retain fixed-point inspections for a few key supply channels, abandoning active clearance in the remaining areas. This proposal was weighed repeatedly, but it was still full of loopholes—the matrix could completely set up chained phantom arrays along the remaining few channels, turning the only surviving paths into death traps.
The debate lasted for over three hours. It wasn't until the middle of the night that a compromise resolution was barely finalized.
First, cancel all long-distance, long-line patrols. The operational range of all external squads is strictly limited to within ten kilometers outside the bastion. Beyond ten kilometers, the entire area is designated as a high-risk quarantine zone. Personnel are forbidden from entering on foot; only drones and remote detection base stations will be maintained for monitoring.
Second, the heavy firepower squads will no longer proactively enter the quarantine zone for clearance. They will only launch remote strikes when a phantom array is detected approaching the ten-kilometer warning line.
Third, the combat readiness academies will accelerate the screening and crash training of Sea of Consciousness cultivators. However, crash training will significantly increase the probability of permanent hidden injuries to the Sea of Consciousness, and the elimination and disability rates of the trainees will multiply.
When the resolution was read out, the conference hall fell into dead silence.
This was a compromise, a concession. Humanity was actively closing its fingers, handing the vast wasteland over to the alien race beneath the earth.
After the meeting, Lin Yan and Gu Shen walked out of the command building side by side. The cold wind from the city walls blew into their faces, carrying the unique, bloody chill of the wasteland.
"A ten-kilometer circle." Gu Shen looked at the heavy gray fog outside the city and sighed. "Twenty-five years ago, when the rift broke out, humanity fought desperately to take back the land. Today, we are voluntarily returning vast tracts of land to the underground."
"It's not the end," Lin Yan said softly. "The matrix's goal has never been to occupy the wasteland. The wasteland is merely its chessboard, and the phantom arrays are its pieces. It wants to consume our Sea of Consciousness combat power. Once our high-tier cultivators are exhausted, the bastion's defensive line will be its true target."
"But right now, we have no other choice."
Over the next two days, the Western Front quickly executed the shrinking order. The outer temporary outposts and supply stations were withdrawn one after another. The warning signs on the roads were dismantled, and drone squadrons took to the sky, setting up early warning spectrum base stations along the edge of the quarantine zone. The patrol convoys that had once frequently shuttled through the old paths, quarry pits, and ruins suddenly became much rarer.
The atmosphere inside the bastion also quietly changed.
The civilians on the streets vaguely sensed the tense situation. The training intensity at the combat readiness academies suddenly increased. The combat arenas and Sea of Consciousness practical training rooms operated day and night without rest, pushing batch after batch of young people onto the crash cultivation track. Everyone knew clearly that the defensive line was shrinking, and the danger was slowly approaching.
At dusk, two days later, an encrypted intelligence report reached the squad.
A drone, deep within the quarantine zone, on the outskirts of an abandoned underground mining city, captured a dense cluster of psychic signals. It wasn't just the dormant waves of phantom seeds; there were also the uniquely higher-frequency psychic fluctuations belonging to the ancient lizard progeny priests.
"It's not just one priest; it's at least three priests coordinating to set up a large-scale phantom array cluster." Lu Heng spread the encrypted message on the table, looking at Lin Yan and Gu Shen. "The command center won't dispatch a large squad inside, but they need a small reconnaissance squad to observe from a distance on the high ground at the edge of the quarantine zone and record the layout patterns. Observation only. Absolutely do not cross the quarantine red line. Once discovered, retreat immediately."
This was one of the few tentacles actively reaching into the quarantine zone after the defensive line had shrunk.
Lin Yan's fingertips gently pressed against the location of his Sea of Consciousness hidden injury. A faint, hidden pain came. He nodded. "I'll go."
Gu Shen followed up. "I'll partner with you. Dual-person backup."
Chen Ye and Zhao Kai volunteered to go as well. The four-man squad traveled light, carrying no heavy blasting equipment, only detection instruments, communication devices, and short-range suppressors. The mission objective was to see clearly from afar: what was the difference between the phantom arrays personally built by the priests and those autonomously deployed by the matrix before?
Night fell. The vehicles quietly drove out of the West Gate, following the newly designated safe route, creeping toward the observation high ground at the edge of the quarantine zone.
Deep within the darkness of the mining city inside the quarantine zone, three cold priest psychic powers were resonating and intertwining with the underground hyphae.
The matrix no longer relied solely on autonomously deployed phantom seeds.
The ancient lizard progeny had personally stepped onto the board to play this game of attrition.