My AI Wife: The Most Beautiful Chatbot in Another World-Chapter 124: The Line Upon the Hill

​The world behind them was a furnace, a hungry maw of fire devouring the remnants of a peaceful memory.

​Dayat stood at the crest of the hill that marked the border between Lamping Village and the untamed wilderness of the East. The dawn wind howled, sharp and biting, carrying with it the bitter scent of scorched wheat and the lingering acrid tang of ammonia from explosive mana. On his palm, the bloodstain from Lyrielle had dried, turning a dull, haunting russet. Dayat stared at the stain for a few silent seconds before slowly curling his hand into a fist so tight his knuckles cracked like dry wood.

​Beside him, dozens of surviving villagers stood with trembling bodies. They were the hollowed-out remains of a peaceful life, shattered in less than an hour of systematic slaughter. Low, ragged sobs echoed through the huddle of survivors, but Dayat did not turn to comfort them. His eyes remained fixed on the horizon, where a shimmering line of golden light had begun to scale the foothills—thousands of Verdia Paladins moving with the rhythmic, terrifying grace of a professional execution squad.

​"Lord Dayat..." an elderly woman approached him, her voice hoarse from the inhalation of ash. "What... what are we to do? They are coming. They will kill us all."

​Dayat slowly turned his head. His face, which had once held a glimmer of warmth and approachable charm, now looked like a sculpture carved from glacial ice. Cold, flat, and utterly unreachable. Yet, when he spoke, his voice remained soft—a jarring contrast that made the blood run cold for anyone who could see the absolute hatred burning in his pupils.

​"Keep walking toward the East," Dayat said quietly. "Lunethra knows the path. Do not look back. Do not stop until you reach the denser vegetation of the deep woods. There, their tracking mana-arrays will struggle to pinpoint your heat signatures."

​"But what about you?" the woman asked, her eyes wide with frantic concern.

​"I will ensure that not a single one of them crosses this hill," Dayat replied shortly.

​Dayat then turned his gaze toward Lunethra. The ancient Elf stood with her robes tattered and stained with soot, clutching her staff with hands that shook—not with fear, but with a restrained, volcanic fury. Lunethra stared at Dayat, searching for the remnants of the kind man she had known, but all she found was a warrior who had discarded the very concept of doubt.

​"Dayat," Lunethra whispered, stepping closer until she could smell the gunpowder and acrid sweat clinging to him. "You don’t have to do this alone. I can help. I still have enough Mana to—"

​"No, Lunethra," Dayat cut her off with a sharp, absolute finality. "Take these people. Protect them. That is the most vital task now. If you stay here, my focus will be split. I need you to be the leader for those who are left. If they die under your watch, then everything that happened today was for nothing."

​"But Verene... she will truly try to kill you," Lunethra’s voice faltered. "She is no longer the sister I remember. She has been blinded by the terror of the Council Elders."

​Dayat offered a thin, ghost of a smile—a expression devoid of any warmth that made Lunethra shiver. "Good. That means I won’t have to feel any guilt when I dismantle her army."

​Dayat then turned his attention to Kancil. The boy stood tall, despite his clothes being covered in soot and grime. Kancil’s eyes, once bright with curiosity, now looked like twin black holes that sucked in all surrounding light. He wasn’t crying. He was simply waiting for an order.

​"Kancil," Dayat called.

​"Yes, Brother?" Kancil answered in a flat, almost robotic drone.

​Dayat reached out his hand. A violet binary light began to pulse in his palm, a molecular materialization far denser and more volatile than usual. Slowly, two pale silver firearms with massive muzzles emerged from the light. A pair of Desert Eagle .50 AE.

​Dayat handed the oversized handguns to Kancil. "You already know the mechanics of the Glock. These are heavier, the kick is far more violent, but a single round is capable of punching through even the thickest enchanted plate armor. Take them."

​Kancil accepted the massive pistols. The weight felt right in his hands, a physical anchor for his boiling rage. He checked the magazines with a fluid, practiced motion—an echo of memory he had inherited from his shared link with the Maiden’s technology.

​"Thank you, Brother," Kancil whispered. "I will make sure no one approaches the villagers from the rear."

​"Good. Go with Lunethra," Dayat commanded.

​Lunethra looked at Dayat one last time, a gaze filled with a desperate love and profound sorrow. She understood that the man before her was undergoing a transformation necessary for survival in this cruel world. Without another word, she led the villagers into the dense forest.

​Now, only Dayat and Dola remained on the summit.

​Dola stood at Dayat’s flank, her eyes glowing with an intense sapphire light as she performed a continuous sweep of the area. [Master, enemy is within 800 meters. Infantry count: 3,000. Archers: 1,200. Mages: 1,000. Command unit led by General Haelir and Governor Caelistra.]

​"Dola, analyze the integrity of the Silver Thorn," Dayat said, drawing the legendary blade from his back. The sword pulsed with a pure, sorrowful green Mana, as if it were mourning the fall of its own kingdom.

​[Analysis complete. Material: 99.8% pure Adamantite. Mana conductivity: Perfect. Master, are you certain you wish to proceed with Deconstruction? This is a priceless relic of the Verdia heroes.]

​Dayat looked at the sword with a chilling indifference. "This blade was forged to protect Verdia. But if Verdia has become an entity that slaughters its own children, then this blade is useless in its original form. Efficiency is everything now. Deconstruct the molecules, then integrate them with the HK416 chassis."

​Dayat closed his eyes. He felt a massive surge of energy being drawn from his newly restored Mana core. In front of him, the Silver Thorn began to vibrate violently. The sword’s green light collided with Dayat’s violet binary energy. The Adamantite metal began to soften, unraveling into glowing particles that danced in the air like fireflies.

​Slowly, those particles began to restructure into a far more complex form. A longer, reinforced barrel, a heavy-duty gas system, a high-capacity magazine, and a stock. But this was no ordinary HK416. The weapon possessed a shimmering metallic silver finish, etched with ancient runes that glowed with a faint green light along the barrel. As Dayat gripped it, he could feel the raw power of the Adamantite flowing into his nervous system.

​[Integration complete. HK416-Adamantite Edition. This weapon is now capable of firing physical projectiles coated in Adamantite armor-piercing energy. Standard Mana shields will not stand a chance,] Dola reported.

​Dayat pulled the charging handle. The metallic click was incredibly crisp in the silence of the hill. "Let’s welcome them, Dola."

​Down below the hill, General Haelir spurred his mount forward. He saw Dayat and Dola standing still at the summit. To Haelir, the sight looked like two desperate fugitives who had finally realized they were trapped.

​"Look at that," Caelistra sneered beside him. "The fugitive isn’t even running anymore. Does he think standing there like a martyr will earn him mercy?"

​"Do not underestimate him, Governor," Haelir warned, his eyes narrowing. "That man broke the gates of Vaelith with a single strike. But this time, he is cornered. Soldiers! Prepare the spell of The Gilded Shackle! Capture him alive if possible, but if he resists, do not hesitate to break his limbs!"

​Hundreds of mages in the rear ranks began to raise their staves. A pale yellow light began to gather in the sky above the hill, forming massive, shimmering nets of light ready to descend and lock the movements of anyone beneath them.

​Dayat looked up at the light nets. "They still think this is a routine arrest."

​[Master, enemy has begun casting high-tier binding magic,] Dola warned. [Shall I activate Aegis Photonis?]

​"No need, Dola. Let them get a little closer," Dayat said. His voice didn’t contain an explosive anger, but a coldness that was far more terrifying.

​The footsteps of thousands of Paladins created a vibration that Dayat could feel through the soles of his boots. The distance was closing fast. 500 meters. 400 meters. 300 meters.

​"Now!" Haelir roared.

​The nets of The Gilded Shackle plummeted with lightning speed. Simultaneously, hundreds of archers released their arrows to provide overwhelming pressure.

​Dayat didn’t move. He simply raised the HK416-Adamantite. In an instant, he pulled the trigger.

​TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!

​The sound of the gunfire was unlike any Earth-made weapon. There was a faint chime of silver bells every time a bullet exited the Adamantite barrel. The projectiles streaked out like silver lightning, leaving shimmering trails in the air.

​The first burst hit the light-nets above them. Instead of being trapped, the bullets shattered the magical nets into useless shards of Mana. The subsequent rounds slammed into the front line of the Paladin vanguard.

​The silver Verdia armor, famous for its strength and ability to withstand heavy blades, shattered like cheap porcelain upon impact with Dayat’s Adamantite-coated bullets. Screams of agony began to tear through the dawn.

​Dayat raised his rifle again, his eyes reflecting the dying embers of Lamping Village.

​"I once thought this world was beautiful," Dayat said, his voice clear even amidst the roar of the fire behind him. "I thought that if I did good, the world would respond in kind. But today, you taught me a valuable lesson."

​Dayat pulled the trigger again, the recoil absorbed perfectly by his reinforced frame.

​"That in Aethera, the voice that is heard loudest is not a prayer... but the sound of metal crushing bone."

​The bloody retreat had only just begun, but for the Verdia Kingdom, today’s dawn did not bring light—it brought the beginning of the apocalypse they had invited themselves.