The role of the Wave Controllers was in no way lesser than that of the duelists.
Sansa and Seris had taken on that burden, and they had helped immensely.
But they suddenly halted when an unexpected variable appeared behind them.
From the west—another army emerged, nearly larger than the first that attacked from the east.
"When did they flank us …?"
The rear line only had Sansa, Seris, the mages, and Emelia Atarax—the healer.
So letting another army get close to them was a disaster waiting to happen .. and all of them realized it immediately.
"Let's hit them from range while the others pull back!"
Seris spoke as Sansa nodded hastily.
Both of them manifested spears of ice and shadow, ready to launch a counterattack—but they froze the moment they saw what was coming.
Hundreds of fire projectiles flew through the air like catapult volleys, all aimed directly at the spot where Sansa and the others had gathered.
At the same time, the battle cries of the new army rang out clearly.
Those roars echoed in unison with the relentless firebombing raining down on their heads.
They had made a grave mistake—assuming the second army consisted of mindless Ganado.
But their new opponents… were the real deal.
The sudden bombardment launched by the Ultras' own Wave Controllers caught the princess and her group off guard, and in that instant, everyone at the front line finally understood what had prompted Frey's desperate warning moments earlier.
Several of them cursed simultaneously, trying to retreat—only to find the number of Ganado around them had surged dramatically out of nowhere, making it impossible to turn their backs.
The only one still able to move freely was Phoenix, who burst into a streak of flame and dashed back immediately—but by then, it was already too late.
From the front and from the rear… they were completely surrounded.
The pursuit had turned into a war of extermination.
Far from the battlefield—and simultaneously, in another place…
A breathtaking garden bloomed with every kind of flower imaginable. Birds chirped, and the sound of fresh water trickled gently from a nearby stream, adding to the serenity.
At the heart of this peaceful scene stood a round white table, flanked by two elegant chairs.
On the table rested luxurious porcelain teacups, arranged neatly beside a massive chessboard that took up the entire surface.
As for the players, one was a beautiful blonde woman in a crimson dress. Her opponent—an older man in his fifties—wore a vintage suit, a tall hat, and round reading glasses, which he held delicately in one hand.
"This isn't very sportsmanlike of you, Beato… Playing your opponent ," the man remarked.
Beatrice responded with a knowing smile.
"And why not? Don't tell me you're not impressed with my tactics? You used to praise them all the time."
She gestured toward the chessboard—one that lacked the usual setup. The white side had only a few pieces left, while black had completely overrun the board.
There, in that surreal space, the classic war tactic known as the "hammer and anvil" had been flawlessly executed—the white side was entirely surrounded.
"They took the bait. And now… they're trapped between my lovely little hammers," Beatrice said softly.
The man nodded slowly.
"But you know that such a beautiful tactic… means nothing in the end, don't you?"
"Oh? And why is that exactly?"
He pointed toward the few remaining white pieces.
"It's the difference in quality."
Beatrice nodded, her smile unfading—as if she had expected that answer all along.
As she spoke, the smoke from the previous bombardment cleared—revealing Seris and Sansa, who had raised a dome of ice and shadow that protected everyone from the rain of fire.
Meanwhile, Phoenix had returned just in time to join them against the second army that had seemingly appeared from nowhere.
This time, they were facing an intelligent enemy—not the mindless Ganado.
But despite its organization, the new army didn't contain any elite-level combatants.
"Well… you can't expect too much from cannon fodder, can you?"
And in perfect sync with her words, Phoenix tore through their ranks in a terrifying display of overwhelming strength.
Seris and the others could only watch him from behind, barely able to comprehend how that man could slaughter such a massive number of enemies without even blinking.
The Ganado—even if technically human—resembled zombies. Killing them was easy… and required no hesitation.
But the second army was made of people—flesh and blood.
Still, this was war now. And in war, hesitation meant defeat.
Even so… it wasn't easy getting used to killing humans.
"They're just children. They don't know the terror of the battlefield yet," Beatrice whispered, placing more and more black pieces on the board.
"We can teach them a valuable lesson… thanks to the endless cannon fodder we have. Hehehe…"
And as if her words carried some kind of magical power—
More enemies appeared. From the north… and the south.
It was no longer just a hammer and anvil.
Now, there were four hammers—threatening to crush Frey and the others from all sides.
All of this… and not a single member of the Ultras' elite had shown up yet.
Just as Beatrice had called them—
The middle-aged man let out a laugh as he observed her extreme chess strategy play out.
"I can't even call this chess anymore… You're absolutely heartless, Beato. Kihihihi."
The man couldn't help but burst out laughing, taking his time before continuing.
"To do this to the very people you've lived alongside all these years…"
In response, Beatrice gave him a sweet and seductive smile, her voice playful.
"Well, I'm a witch, aren't I? What did you expect from me?"
That sweet smile swiftly twisted into something demonic.
"It runs in my blood."
Back on the battlefield…
Overwhelmed by the sheer number of enemies, Frey Starlight clenched his teeth as he summoned the Dark Sister.
Phoenix had said they shouldn't unleash too much power.
At this rate—even if their enemies were weaker—they would be slowly worn down and exhausted.
With that thought in mind, Frey charged forward, swinging his blade and unleashing devastating waves of dark aura, slicing the surrounding Ganado into pieces.
There was no way he'd allow himself to die in a place —not .
And that same determination flooded the minds of every member of the elite class.
Each of them found themselves fighting with everything they had, clawing for survival in the heart of that death trap.
It was a desperate war—through and through.