The special forces of the Third Division arrived at their rendezvous point and found no sign of their War Minister. They looked around and saw no one other than themselves in the desolate wasteland.

"Where is Chief Armstrong?" An elite Jaeger questioned as another stepped forward and expounded. "He detected a threat approaching us and went to receive it."

"Hasn't it been nearly a dozen minutes since he left? Should we reinforce him?" One of them remarked before suggesting. But the strongest amongst them, the Second-In-Command, shook their head.

After all, they wouldn't be helpful to the War Minister. The special forces would be nothing more than an insignificant pest or a weakness to the Third Paragon.

"Reinforcing him would only affect his capabilities of fighting. Instead, we should prepare and entrench ourselves in this location."

"Contact the Headquarters... I want them to begin the construction of a Forward-Operating Base." The Second-In-Command wasn't planning to distract their War Minister.

It was better for them to ensure that the territories they had gained wouldn't be taken back by the Clan.

While many of the elite Jaegers wanted to reinforce their War Minister, most understood they didn't stand a chance against an opponent who could trouble him.

They would be distractions for the Third Paragon, which had proven itself to be fatal on the battlefield.

With this in mind, the special forces of Block 3 concentrated on their rendezvous point, preparing for the construction of the Forward-Operating Base.

Deep trenches were established as transport trucks from the headquarters drove towards the vanguard of the Southern Frontier.

Resistance was to be expected from the Clan. How strong it was remained a mystery. However, the elite Jaegers needed to be ready since it wasn't a matter of if but when.

The Second-In-Command saw his subordinates putting in the layout of the Forward-Operating Base. He sighed in relief since it was better for them to divert their attention to something productive.

"I hope that Sir Armstrong is alright." He muttered under his breath, gazing in the direction where the Third Paragon supposedly confronted the interloper.

The desolate wasteland stretched into the horizon and possibly beyond. An eerie silence filled the air while the rays of the heavens pierced through the fading dark clouds.

It was a beautiful sight, a reminder of what they were fighting for.

A fraction of humanity lived in torment, clenched tightly by the hands of vampires. As the hunters of humankind, it was their duty to liberate them.

"Otherwise..." Intense heat radiated from the Second-In-Command before he managed his temperature. The ground below him was somewhat scorched.

It signified the power that radiated from his body.

"The Third Division will have to go to war against the Clan, with or without the support of the Federation." It wasn't a matter of avenging the Third Paragon.

Without Armstrong, Block 3 was a husk without a pillar. It wouldn't take a week for the Federation to break them apart and burrow the organization beneath the earth.

On the other hand, the southern frontier was filled with armored trucks heading towards the vanguard of the frontlines. It was a long convoy of vehicles guarded by hundreds of Jaegers.

"It looks like the special forces succeeded." A truck driver remarked, his black-suit pristine. Most personnel in the convoy were Jaegers.

There wasn't a sign of normal humans. It wasn't that the Third Paragon impeded them; even the casualty rate of Jaegers was high. No ordinary humans would dare to operate with Block 3.

Most of them would rather handle the rear logistics of the Third Division. Anymore near the southern frontier increases their chances of dying.

"Well, the guy from Block 7 did do all the work." His partner sat beside him, staring at the empty, desolate wasteland that enveloped them. "I heard that almost all of the vampire strongholds got destroyed."

"I don't know about that... What I heard was that all strongholds got destroyed. There's no one stopping us from driving towards their first city." The driver smirked.

His partner chuckled and remarked. "Yeah, hard to believe. But those who belong to Block 7 tend to be monsters."

"The Federation might think otherwise since they are ignorant of how SIGIL works. A single Division alone can probably take out the country if it wanted to."

"But Block 7 is different. It can take out SIGIL alongside the Federation without a problem. Especially the strongest of humanity, Alastair Glass."

A hushed silence shrouded the two Jaegers as they gazed forward towards the armored truck in front of them. The New World wasn't as simple as the eras before.

What mattered wasn't wealth, influence, or authority.

It was power.

Without power, you might as well not exist. Fortunately for the ordinary humans of the New World, Alastair Glass was the authority that governed the metahumans.

Otherwise, it wouldn't be normal people controlling the Federation. But the Jaegers themselves. Some were displeased by this arrangement.

But most Jaegers didn't mind it since there wasn't much politics that impeded them from doing their jobs. The Federation and the SIGIL tend to differ.

"Now that I think about it. I heard that the Seventh Paragon and the Federation are having a scuffle." The driver raised his eyebrows as his partner sighed. "Yeah, heard about that too."

"I don't know what games or politics those politicians are playing. Messing with the strongest of humanity only concludes a single result. Death."

"Looks like most of them forgot how strong Jaegers are, especially the Paragons." The Federation was in trouble without a doubt.

Relying on such vague concepts as morality when dealing with the strongest of humanity was as foolish as things could get.

"But what happens to the Federation doesn't matter to us on the greater scale. The only thing we need to do is maintain the border of humanity and expand it forward."

"Nothing more, nothing less."

The driver nodded, agreeing to his partner's remark. The Third Division was nothing more than the guardian of the south. Whether the Federation collapses wouldn't warrant their influence.

"Hope the special forces can stand their ground on the frontline."

Meanwhile...

Armstrong and Marquis July gazed upon each other, their bodies unmoving. Thoughts flooded their mind before the eerie silence was broken by their commands.

"Microcosm: Heaven's Armament!"

"Microcosm: One Punch!"

Heaven's Armament was the Third Paragon's Macrocosm, originating from his Brand: Invulberable Solidification. When the domain was imprinted upon the world.

Everything nearby would be ensnared by an invincible space where the Invulnerability would become Omnipotence. As a result, a mere transparent blade would have enough power to kill anything in its path.

There was no dodging or blocking it anymore.

Not only that, once the transparent blade was fired. These wouldn't stop until the targets' bodies were punctured or divided into separate halves.

It was an extremely powerful Microcosm that Armstrong only used once. The first time was against the strongest of humanity, Alastair Glass.

When he imprinted that domain several years ago, before the Revolution, the white-haired, gorgeous lady merely smiled and shattered the Microcosm into bits of Aether.

A humbling sight for the Third Paragon, which made him promise himself to refine his Microcosm to its utmost limits.

On the other hand, Marquis July's Microcosm was simple. Its name was One Punch, originating from her Blood Technique, which naturally augmented her body to its pinnacle.

It wasn't as complicated as the Microcosm of other True Bloods, which applied rules over reality like a program. There was only one thing that her Microcosm needed to do.

That was to contain her opponents and let her throw a single attack towards them. One Punch. It was all she needed when dispatching her foes.

Because of its simplicity, its containment ability was the strongest in the New World. Those trapped by her Microcosm would have to be punched by her if they wanted to make a move.

She was also constrained by the single-attack trait of her Microcosm. But Marquis July was rarely bothered by it. After all, she was confident in her power.

In terms of attack power, she might be the strongest in the Clan. Even the progenitor wouldn't be able to rival how much she could cause in two moves.

Regardless, the Third Paragon and the True Blood imprinted their domain at the same time. When two Microcosms clashed, the one whose domain was the most refined would win.

A battle of life and death that was decided through mastery.

Outside of the clashing Armstrong and Marquis July, two spheres of dense Aether confronted one another. The borders between the two overlapped as the aetheric background increased by the second.

Usually, during the clash of Microcosms, the victor would be decided in a single second. From the looks of it, the Third Paragon and True Blood's domains were equal in terms of refinement.

With this in mind, another equalizer was introduced.

And that was the amount of Aether their body contained. Through this equalizer, the scales were tipped to the one with the most Aether.

Behind her domain, Marquis July's lips curved into a subtle smile.