Mistaken Match: Marrying the Enigmatic CEO
Chapter 2378; Final Battle
Ashdon Nation sprawled across the horizon, a kingdom of sea and land. Hundreds of islands dotted the vast expanse, their jagged peaks rising from the waves like silent sentinels.
After a day’s relentless journey on the open sea, Emmanuel and his crew finally caught sight of five islands, a formation like no other, sitting at a strategic point.
“Boss, the one in the middle…” Eve’s voice cut though the wind. “That’s Solaris Island!”
She pointed to the cluster of islands ahead. “It’s shaped like a flower, with the islands forming the petals. To reach Solaris, we need to land on Graypine Island to the west. It’s the hub connecting them all by land.”
Emmanuel studied the islands, his eyes narrowing as the full scope of their potential settles over him. He sighed. “Nature is truly a force of genius. Solaris Island… it’s the perfect base.”
“Exactly,” Sage agreed, stepping up beside him.
“These islands are thick with trees, so dense that even satellites struggle to get a clear picture of what’s inside. It’s a natural fortress, cut off from the world.”
Eve’s voice rang out again, more urgent now. “And yet, it’s so close to Chanaea. If they fired missiles from here, they’d strike Chanaea’s inland cities in minutes.”
Emmanuel nodded, his thoughts darkening. “That’s why Eagle Nation wants to use Ashdon Nation as a launching pad. Missiles can be intercepted, but what if they have other means? Things we can’t detect? They could strike without warning.”
The idea had once seemed impossible. Unthinkable, even.
But after facing off against enemies like Sage and learning off the power hidden within Sun Stones from Claude, Emmanuel knew that such an attack was no longer beyond the realm of possibility.
“Commander, with you here, I know we can stop Eagle Nation’s plans and protect Chanaea.” Eve said, her voice steady, full of belief. Emmanuel gave a faint smile.
Confidence or not, the task ahead left him with no choice but to put everything on the line, yet as his boots hit the soil of Graypine Island, something shifted.
The tension that had plagued him melted into a surge of determination. Familiar faces greeted him, their presence grounding him, Blake, Nathan, Ashton, Xarri, Quell, Magnus, and Hattie were all there.
And there they were, three Saints that were on his side, Isabella the Redback Matriarch, Snake Master, and his sister.
An army assembled, stronger than ever before. With reinforcement like this, how could they fail?
“Why are you all here? Emmanuel asked, his steps quickening toward them.
Blake grinned, standing at the front. “Heh, Magnus said he was brining us in for the final showdown. So, here we are!”
Emmanuel’s eyes turned to Magnus seeking an answer. “How did you get here?” Magnus only smiled, his eyes glinting with unspoken plans.
Hattie stepped forward, her smile radiant, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Commander Lowe,” she said, voice smooth and confident, “Magnus anticipated you’d use the fishing boat tactic to take down Ashdon Nation. So, we prepared a fast ship. We blended right in with the 350,000 fishing boats. While you were busy teaching Ashdon’s boys a lesson, we made it here first.”
Emmanuel chuckled, giving Magnus a thumbs up. However, his curiosity lingered. “How did you manage to bring the Saints with you, though?”
Hattie’s grin widened, her voice laced with pride. “Magnus said this is the battle of the century. It’s where we’ll face the Upper Three Saints. The Saints wouldn’t miss it.”
Emmanuel turned, his gaze falling on Santiago and Yorick.
Santiago’s deep laugh rumbled through the air. “Heh, Emmanuel. It’s your time now, but don’t think we’ve had our curtain call. We fought for Chanaea when you were still, in diapers. What’s got you to surprised now?”
He took a long, slow drink from his flask, eyes gleaming with mischief.
Yorick, standing tall and unbothered, spoke in his usual cold tone. “The Chanaean Martial Arts Association just updated the Seven Saints rankings, placing us in Middle Three Saints. I’m not thrilled about it. So, I’m here to shake things up.”
Emmanuel laughed, his voice rich with amusement. “I’m not happy either. Who calls themselves a Saint while opposing Chanaea? We’ll knock them off their pedestal, one by one.”
Yorick’s lips twitched into the faintest smile, but his eyes remained as sharp as ever.
“Alright, Emmanuel!” Magnus’ voice sliced through the moment, his eyes hardening as he pulled out a map. “That’s enough chatter!”
Emmanuel understood immediately and beckoned everyone over. The others followed, the air thick with anticipation.
Magnus spared the map with precise care, his voice dropping into a grim tone. “This is a rough map of Solaris Island and the four surrounding islands. If everything goes as planned. Eagle Nation has already set up shop on Solaris Island.”
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle in the silence. “The Holy Fire organization and Airspace Group will likely team up with them. That means 300,000 troops and countless martial artist are headed our way.”
The collective breath of the group caught in the air. Blake snorted, ever the skeptic.
“Magnus, are you serious? 300,000 troops and endless martial artists? What’s the point of us being here? Might as ell go home and sleep.”
Emmanuel’s brow furrowed, his gaze hardening.
They’d brought just 10,000 elite soldiers to slip under the radar, careful not to attract international attention.
Their weapons were light, their numbers few, and there were no reinforcements. Facing 300,000 soldiers? The odds were dire. Magnus was unfazed, his voice steady as stone.
“This isn’t exaggeration. Their strategist is my master, Mr. Orunis, the Sage Saint. If he see you using 350,000 fishing boats to wipe out Ashdon Nation’s thousand men and still doesn’t get what you’re up to, then he’s not a Sage Saint, he’s a fool.”
Emmanuel’s eyes sharpened, his confidence returning.
“I believe you. So, what’s our next move?”
A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “This is your battlefield, facing your master. I trust you came prepared, my one-star Chief of Staff.”
Hattie’s laugh was bright and genuine. “You really know Magnus through and through, don’t you?
“If we win this, I’m aiming for a promotion!”
Magnus wasted no time. With a swift motion, he grabbed a command rod and pointed it to the map, his eyes sharp, unwavering. “The Holy Fire organization controls Ashdon Nation,” he began, his voice steady, carrying a weight of certainty. “But from my intel, their command center lies in Southroyal. It’ll take them three to five days to bring 300,000 troops to Solaris Islands, to surround us. If we’re going to win this, we must outpace them.”
The Saints nodded, their faces grim but resolute.
Their real target, they knew, lay with the other two of the Upper Three Saints. As for the Sage Saint, well, Magnus would handle that.
New waves always push the old ones aside. And the old waves? They’d crash, forgotten, on the shore.
Ashdon Nation had plenty of beaches to drown in.
Magnus’ gaze never wavered from the map. He spoke with a calm urgency, “We begin the assault from Graypine Island. Half a day, we need to take the Island’s defenses and push over land to Salaris.”
His fingers traced the map’s edges as he continued. “Best case? We annihilate Solaris before the Holy Fire and Airspace Group arrive. We’re off the island, on a ship, and gone before they can retaliate.”
He paused. The silence was thick, heavy with the tension of plan. “Second best? We destroy Solaris Island, but they catch us before we can leave. We’ll be surrounded, but we fight our way out. We might survive.”
Blake, ever the realist, couldn’t help but cut in. “And the worst-case scenario?”
Magnus pushed his glasses higher, his lips curving into a cold, humorless smile. “The worst-case? We fail to destroy the Eagle Nation base. Their reinforcements arrive, and we’re caught between them. Trapped with no way out. A death sentence. And I’m afraid… it’s the most likely scenario.”
Blake’s face drained of color. He took an involuntary step back, eyes wide with alarm.
“Sh*t. It is too late for me to leave now?” His voice was tight, his gaze flickering nervously toward the exit.
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