SSS rank Mother-In-Law to an Invincible Family

Western Continent.

As the beast tide ravaged the continent, something unexpected happened: the sky split open.

It didn't roar. It didn't crack. It just opened—a clean ripple of light above the battlefield.

Dozens of wide formation gates appeared in the clouds like mirrored holes in the sky, spinning quietly as energy pulsed outward.

From those gates, the Unified Army arrived.

At first, the beasts didn't react. Some paused mid-charge. Others slowed their pace, confused by the sudden shift in the atmosphere. They had heard whispers of reinforcements. But not this.

They hadn't expected flying ships lined in formation.

They hadn't expected spirit-guided battalions descending in perfect grids.

And they certainly hadn't expected thousands of cultivators falling like drops of water—uniformed, silent, and sharp.

Down below, near what remained of the city of Xuanling, the Western defenders looked up.

For a moment, they couldn't speak.

Some of them were barely standing. Covered in ash. Blood on their sleeves. Wounded and exhausted. What little hope they had left was buried under fire and rubble.

And then they saw the first squad land.

Six warriors. Perfectly in sync. Formation badges glowing on their chests. No clan symbols. Just a single emblem: a silver circle with five straight lines piercing downward like blades.

Unified Army.

They landed directly between the surviving humans and the incoming beasts.

The front soldier raised one hand.

His spiritual energy burst outward—not in a showy display, but with perfect control. It slammed into the dirt like a wave, forming a shock boundary that pushed the beast soldiers back ten steps.

He didn't say a word.

He just raised his blade.

The others followed.

A moment later, the ground trembled again.

The rest of the Unified Army hit the dirt in waves.

Legions deployed from the sky like drops of rain. Air cultivators hovered overhead, already forming cover formations. Earth and metal users hit the dirt with talisman packs and barrier scrolls, building spiritual trenches in seconds.

And then came the command seals—hovering midair, releasing shimmering rays of coordination that tied every unit together.

"Shield lines in place," one voice called calmly.

"Healer zones active."

"Range suppression locked."

"Begin encirclement."

The beast army finally started to react.

They roared.

Charged.

Screamed.

But they didn't understand what they were running into.

The Unified Army didn't fight like the other humans.

They didn't argue.

They didn't panic.

They didn't hesitate.

Everything was already planned.

When the first wave of beasts reached the front lines, they slammed into what looked like a wall of silver.

Spears met claws.

Blades met fangs.

But the Unified Army didn't back down.

They moved like one being.

A spear captain gave a single command. "Close the gap."

The formation shifted instantly, three columns rotating forward, two stepping back to reinforce from the sides.

Another squad leader shouted, "Left side—vital point exposed."

"Already handled," came a voice from behind.

And it was.

A wind cultivator sliced cleanly through the neck of the charging beast before it even reached the flank.

In the skies above, air support was already moving.

Cloud skimmers—light flying vessels loaded with talisman cannons—circled overhead and released precision blasts into the beast ranks. No wasted energy. No missed targets.

On the ground, spiritual medics ran through the back lines. They didn't stop. They didn't speak. They just knelt, sealed wounds, fed pills, and moved on.

It was a machine.

One that had been built for this exact moment.

Back near the city ruins, a young Western cultivator sat slumped against a broken wall. His blade was cracked, and his left arm was limp.

He stared at the field in front of him like it was a dream.

"They… they're pushing them back," he whispered.

A senior cultivator nearby—one of the elders from the Song Clan—just nodded.

"They didn't even shout," he muttered. "They just landed and started… working."

Behind them, a few more survivors began to rise from the rubble.

They had seen beast waves before.

But nothing like this.

The beasts were struggling now.

You could see the cracks.

Their wide charges were intercepted before they started. Their commanders were hunted down by coordinated shadow units.

Some even turned to retreat, but found their paths already blocked.

One beast screamed toward the sky, roaring in fury as it tried to leap over the front lines.

It never made it.

A talisman net launched from below wrapped around its body and crushed its limbs mid-air.

The moment it hit the ground, three soldiers stepped forward.

One broke its legs.

One pierced its skull.

The third reset the formation seal to make sure no spiritual feedback escaped.

Then they moved on.

Atop a nearby ridge, General Wei Shan stood with a command team, watching everything unfold.

Lan Fei stood beside her, face tense but bright with awe.

"They're holding," she said.

"They're more than holding," Wei Shan replied. "They're turning the tide."

Fei looked at her general. "This is going to send a message, isn't it?"

Wei Shan nodded slowly.

"To the Western families. To the beasts. And to the rest of the world."

She narrowed her eyes.

"This is what happens when you stop depending on nameplates and start relying on discipline."

Back on the battlefield, a Unified Army captain gave a signal.

"Advance by six steps. Rotate barriers. Swap the frontline team with the reserve team three."

The movement was flawless.

Like water flowing downhill.

The beasts were crumbling now.

For the first time since the battle began, their lines started to waver—not because of fear, but because they didn't know what they were facing.

They were used to chaos.

Not ordered.

They were used to counterpunching.

Not being cornered.

One commander among them tried to scream an order.

An arrow silenced him before the word left his throat.

The battlefield continued to shift.

The Unified Army didn't chase wildly.

They didn't scream in celebration.

They just kept moving.

Clean.

Precise.

Unstoppable.

And by the time the sun dipped low behind the western hills, the beasts were no longer charging.

They were retreating.

Some limping.

Some crawling.

Others trying to fly away—only to be knocked down by silent bolts from above.

The humans didn't cheer.

They just stood their ground.

Waiting.