The dream drills lasted for a long time, continuing until everyone's mental stamina gave out, at which point they finally withdrew from the Synesthesia Dreamscape.
Drilling in a dream was indeed convenient and time-saving, but carrying the sensations and memories from the dream back to reality naturally took a toll on the soul.
To endure these hundreds—even thousands—of tactical simulations, they had already pushed themselves to the limit; they would likely need half a day's sleep after leaving the dreamscape to recover.
As they grew familiar with the unit types at their disposal, the generals of the three kingdoms began to develop their own distinct personal styles.
Among them, Ange Watson left the deepest impression on Anbaixiu.
The man truly seemed gifted in the art of war. He grasped the capabilities of new units the quickest and performed the best in command.
Despite being a paladin, his eventual skill at controlling undead forces far surpassed Anbaixiu's own.
The entire reason Anbaixiu designed his undead to be so autonomous and intelligent was that his own commanding ability was terrible. Concepts like tactical penetration, baiting the enemy, or flanking maneuvers were completely foreign to him; all he could do was spot where the enemy was and order his troops to steamroll them.
Ange Watson showed Anbaixiu just how versatile commanding the undead could be. Just handling the Small Fry Mark I, Ange Watson created several different formations to counter dispersed foes, grouped spellcasters, and heavily armored melee units.
Even the three tieflings could only express admiration, for they had been thoroughly defeated by these flexible tactical formations.
The guy was genuinely brilliant at leading troops in battle, definitely not some armchair theorist who only knew talk.
Yet Anbaixiu still felt something was off. Ange Watson had previously severed ties with his family in public. Now he was suddenly hanging around with Alan again—was it really just out of brotherly affection?
In his long lifetime, Anbaixiu had seen countless relatives turn against one another—for money, for power, for love, or even more absurdly, just out of stubborn pride... The most ridiculous excuses could turn into reasons to draw blades against one's own kin.
He could only hope Alan understood what he was doing. Anbaixiu couldn't be bothered to meddle in other people's family affairs. He just hoped this Ange Watson kid was smart enough not to cause trouble in this campaign; otherwise, Anbaixiu would certainly weave a miserable death into his fate.
And so, every two days Anbaixiu gathered the generals for another drill in the dreamscape. At first, the merfolk High Priestess still took part, but after Ange Watson commanded merfolk troops to defeat her, she withdrew completely back to her primary duties and stopped joining the training.
Anbaixiu remained deeply grateful; to have done this much was already an immense help from the merfolk.
Aside from this, Anbaixiu continuously monitored the situation in the Volcanic Sea.
Over a few short days, this stretch of ocean had become extraordinarily lively. Every day brought reports of different races fighting tooth and nail, squabbling over territory that changed hands multiple times a day.
Yet as time went on, the major races eventually settled into their own territories.
The geography of the Volcanic Sea was exceptionally complex, but broadly speaking, it could be divided by three undersea mountain ranges formed from solidified volcanic lava.
The Kingdom of the Unholy Hymn had been excavated in its entirety and sent away by Anbaixiu. With no surface soil to cover them, countless volcanoes had erupted freely, their solidified lava turning into undersea mountain ranges that carved up the waters like the three vertical strokes of the river character "川".
Ranges formed purely of hardened lava were barren, as marine life had not yet had time to grow on them. Consequently, they served as natural buffer zones; no race would build a home directly on the mountain ridges.
The gaps between these three ranges were therefore the prime locations. In total, eighty-three distinct areas of varying sizes nestled within these crevices were suitable for marine life, whether they were ocean trenches, rock caverns of all sizes, or original subterranean chambers flooded by seawater.
In any case, one look at the terrain showed it would easily support coral and sea kelp, capable of sustaining vast schools of fish.
Eighty-three zones was merely an estimate; other areas not included in the count were not uninhabitable, just comparatively more difficult to survive in.
Studying the newly charted nautical map, Anbaixiu remarked in astonishment, "I can understand the sahuagin taking thirteen areas, and I can accept the ixitxachitl taking more than twenty. But how on earth did those idiot kuo-toa manage to seize over thirty? Does that make any sense?"
The kuo-toa's chaotic spellcasting was indeed beyond imagination. You never knew whether a kuo-toa would whip out an electrified lobster claw, an Ice Storm, or a Finger of Death—and you couldn't even predict whether that Finger of Death would kill you or wipe out the kuo-toa caster itself.
Under such circumstances, while no one wanted to provoke the kuo-toa, their utter randomness made their chances of victory wildly erratic. Yet to hold territory, stability was paramount; there was no way they could steadily defend so many valuable zones. It defied all laws of probability.
Although this was bad news, it wasn't without silver linings.
The good news was that the race Anbaixiu worried about most, the nagas, had not entered the Volcanic Sea. They seemed far more interested in the lands left behind after the sahuagin migration, slowly encroaching on the territory the sahuagin had abandoned.
This was fortunate. Nagas possessed dragon blood, and unless absolutely necessary, Anbaixiu had no desire to fight anything related to dragons.
In yet another session of the Synesthesia Dreamscape, Anbaixiu presented the new nautical map to everyone, having numbered all eighty-three zones and marked their characteristics.
Next, it was up to them.
The first to speak was an elven lady, the sole female general present. In the previous drills, she had exhibited exceptionally delicate operational tactics, favoring flanking maneuvers and sudden raids, which she executed with great skill; even Ange Watson had lost to her several times.
This elven lady, named Tanis, said, "I suggest starting with the areas that haven't been claimed by powerful oceanic races yet. The defenses in those zones are relatively weak, allowing us to establish a secure rear base and facilitate future operations."
Hearing this, Anbaixiu thought it made good sense. But Ange Watson immediately countered, "No, that's pointless. We are leading an army of the undead; we have no need for logistics. Oceanic races require a secure rear to rest and regroup because they need food and somewhere for the wounded to recover. Undead require none of that. What we need to do is strike the enemy where it is most effective."
Anbaixiu found himself nodding to Ange Watson's point as well. Undead truly had little need for supply lines; their real logistics consisted of sustaining war through war.
At that moment, the tiefling youth who called himself Homeless spoke up, directly refuting Ange Watson's suggestion. In a mocking tone, he sneered, "You Ryanites have something wrong with your heads, obsessed only with conquest. It's true that undead troops don't need supply lines, but don't forget our purpose. Master Ultraman wants to conquer this sea not just to let undead dwell here, but to rule over the weaker marine races and make them slaves.
"Therefore, seizing territory is essential, and gathering those weak aquatic races as slaves early on is equally vital. If you only think about fighting battles, once our forces are spent, will we have the strength left to round up the sea folk?"
Ange Watson sneered disdainfully. "That only shows your lack of ability. I am confident that after defeating all the powerful oceanic races, I can still preserve the vast majority of our forces. Ruling this sea will be far simpler then."
"Big words for a colonizer."
"A stray dog that fled with its kingdom after losing in battle naturally cannot fathom the might of Ryan."
"Such a mighty empire, yet tens of thousands were crushed to death by its own Emperor—don't you find that laughable?!"
"Far fewer died than when your kingdom was exiled. Hundreds of thousands died in your earthquakes alone, and in the Lands of Chaos, hundreds of thousands more will probably starve to death."
"Damned Ryanite white-haired dog! I challenge you to a duel!"
"Heh, I'd gladly accept, though not in a dream. Too bad I doubt you have the skill to ever make it back!"
...
Seeing the quarrel turn into a brawl, Anbaixiu rubbed his chin. This scene had played out many times before.
In earlier drills, the tieflings and the Ryanites had staged several such "commanders' duels."
Anything was possible in a dream, but Anbaixiu had restricted their permissions to imagine whatever they pleased. These tieflings couldn't imagine themselves as Ao and crush the Ryanites with a flick of a finger; they were bound strictly by the baseline of their physical bodies in reality.
The result was that the tieflings were utterly no match for the Ryanites. Never mind Ange Watson—Alan alone could take on all three at once.
Youths were always hot-blooded; even knowing they couldn't win, they still insisted on trying again.
Watching them tussle, Anbaixiu didn't even bother to scold them. Instead, he brought out his ultimate trump card.
Catherine appeared before the crowd. The moment the Elven Queen materialized, every man present subconsciously adjusted his clothes.
It couldn't be helped; the Elven Queen was simply too radiant. Even in a dream, Catherine remained the cynosure of all eyes.
Catherine addressed the crowd: "Gentlemen, now is not the time to bicker. This is a rare opportunity where you can experience a form of naval warfare unlike anything you have ever seen, without suffering any actual harm. Please cherish this chance and do not squander your time on futile scuffles."
A single sentence from Catherine carried more weight than a hundred from Anbaixiu. Everyone broke apart immediately, not daring to utter another syllable.
Catherine nodded in satisfaction and made her decision: "Having heard everyone's opinions, I believe Mr. Ange Watson's proposal is the most fitting. For our first battle, we need to build confidence. Let us choose a powerful race as our target. Mr. Ange Watson, who do you think our opponent should be?"
Ange Watson was already prepared, replying firmly, "Without a doubt, we should choose the sahuagin!"
Chapter 432