When Jie Ming awoke from his deep coma, his vision was still blurry, his eyelids heavy as lead, the world swaying in a haze of light and shadow.

In his daze, he vaguely sensed a figure beside him, silently watching over him.

“You’re awake,” a gentle, healing female voice said softly by his ear. “Is your body still experiencing any abnormalities?”

The voice, full of concern, instinctively eased Jie Ming’s tense nerves, strained from his injuries.

But as his vision cleared, disbelief struck. The figure guarding him wasn’t a gentle female healer but a humanoid automaton, its body made of liquid-metal-like silver-white material, joints glowing with blue energy.

The soothing voice came from a speaker in its chest.

“!!!”

The stark contrast snapped Jie Ming fully awake, shattering his grogginess. He bolted upright from the soft hospital bed, instinctively entering a combat-ready stance. But he quickly sensed no hostility from the automaton, which stood quietly by his side.

He assessed his condition. His mental energy and true essence were fully restored, the tearing pain of his injuries gone. His body felt even slightly better than before. The camp had clearly used high-quality potions to treat him during his coma.

“No, something’s off…” Jie Ming frowned, sensing a deeper change within, not from the potions but from his body’s origin.

After a moment’s thought, he deduced it was likely his body cultivation technique, adapting further to the extreme weakness and backlash from his radiant state.

“Adaptive evolution?” A spark of realization flashed in his eyes.

The next time he faced similar weakness or damage, his body would be more resilient, recover faster, and sustain less harm. He couldn’t help but marvel. Body cultivation, a cornerstone of the immortal world’s martial path, thrived on destruction and reconstruction, seeking ultimate strength.

Each non-fatal injury granted a precious “adaptive evolution.” The more varied and frequent the damage, the more exaggerated a body cultivator’s resilience became. A lethal blow to an ordinary cultivator might be a minor injury to a high-level body cultivator, requiring little recovery.

“Good,” Jie Ming clenched his fist, feeling the denser, tougher strength within. “Next time, I’ll be more resistant. At least I won’t pass out right after radiant escape.”

After marveling at his body’s changes, he turned to the silver automaton. “What’s the camp’s situation? How long was I out?” he asked urgently.

The automaton responded in its gentle voice, “Wizard Jie Ming, you were unconscious for less than half a day. Thanks to your critical intelligence, our second-layer defensive nodes have confirmed the movements of the combined lava giant and snow monster army. The command has deployed accordingly. Most combat wizards have been sent to reinforce and fortify the third-layer nodes. You’ve also received a mandatory mission from the camp. Master Roland (another Grade 5 wizard) instructs that, upon waking, you proceed to your laboratory to begin producing biochemical beasts for frontline cannon fodder support.”

“Understood,” Jie Ming nodded.

The situation was better than he’d feared. With his body restored, he had no intention of resting further.

He briskly left the bed, exiting the temporary infirmary and returning to his laboratory. As the door opened, he paused, startled by the sight.

His once-spacious lab was now filled with mountains of materials—some reeking of blood and flesh, but most were glowing energy cores from lava giants and high-energy crystals. More materials continuously poured in from a nearby spatial teleportation array.

Given his focus on lava giants, the camp had assigned him to produce cannon fodder for the Blazefire Realm frontline.

“No time to waste…” Jie Ming took a deep breath, wasting no words. He sorted the materials, categorizing them, then dove into the lab, immersing himself in frenzied creation.

…

Half a month later, Jie Ming stood before a neatly arranged row of creations, a satisfied look on his face.

Before him stood a line of biochemical beasts resembling oversized lava giants, but far more ferocious. They retained the giants’ durability and strength but were enhanced with devilish modifications. Some had multiple heads spewing different flames, others bore six or eight robust arms tipped with sharp bone blades or heavy hammers. Their bodies contained not mere magma but Jie Ming’s specially formulated alchemical melt, highly explosive and corrosive.

“Go, my children,” Jie Ming nodded, activating the lab’s spatial teleportation device. The killing machines vanished in a ripple, sent precisely to the frontline’s supply hub.

Finished, Jie Ming glanced at his now-empty lab. The stored materials were depleted, and, regrettably, the camp seemed to have stopped supplying more.

Instead, his terminal pinged with a new mandatory mission from command: [Order: All wizards, immediately leave the camp’s core and proceed to designated defensive nodes to assist in combat!]

The order carried an eerie undertone. Abandoning a fortified stronghold to meet the enemy head-on seemed like suicide in any military doctrine.

Yet, surprisingly, the camp’s wizards remained calm, showing no unrest or doubt. Since Master Augustine forcibly departed with the ship plane, every wizard knew the higher-ups had deeper plans. Those left behind were both defenders and, likely, bait.

Upon joining the plane war, all wizards had signed contracts stipulating that, unless permitted by the top Grade 5 or 6 wizards, none could flee. The contract also bound commanders, requiring tasks to account for wizards’ levels and survival rates, keeping losses within acceptable limits.

So, unless Augustine’s plans catastrophically failed due to misinformation, each wizard’s task would be within their capabilities—dangerous, but not a death sentence.

Jie Ming shared this mindset. He casually closed his terminal, dismantled the auxiliary equipment used for biochemical beast production, and packed it into his spatial pouch. Without lingering, he left the lab.

Outside, solemn wizards streamed from the core fortress, converging like rivers to the sea toward the scattered defensive nodes. Behind them trailed hordes of bizarre biochemical beasts—Jie Ming’s multi-headed, multi-armed lava giants, alongside other wizards’ creations like metal spiders, skeletal dragons, and grotesque flesh constructs.

A joint army of wizards and monsters was rapidly forming.

Jie Ming checked his terminal, assigned to a node near the Blazefire Realm. The three Grade 5 commanders had clearly planned carefully, avoiding haphazard assignments.

Following his terminal’s guidance, he quickly reached his designated node, where over a dozen wizards were already stationed. They glanced at him calmly before returning to their tasks.

Soon, a piercing alarm tore through the sky, halting all wizards. Jie Ming, mid-equipment setup, snapped his head up, gazing toward the distant horizon.

There, an impenetrable flood of elemental fire and magma surged from the skyline’s edge—a moving, burning continent, not an army!