War had spread from Maple Sugar, burning without end along the way.
On the morning of the fourteenth day, as horn calls echoed through the city, the reinforcements from World City finally set out in formation.
Their banners snapped beneath the dawn light, and armored figures poured from the gates like a river of iron.
The watching nobles felt their blood surge, barely concealed excitement flashing in their eyes—the reinforcements had mobilized, which meant the war was no longer solely World City's burden.
But the one truly directing the situation was still Ang.
Standing on high ground, he watched the troops depart, yet felt no relief at all.
His goal had never been merely to defend Maple Sugar, but to reach deeper into the Kewenhua Grand Plains.
There, the Gate of Foul Spirits still stood open, endlessly spewing forth new enemies. Unless the source was severed, no number of victories would be anything but temporary.
During this time, he had also transferred fifty thousand troops from the Archipelago Plane to fill the gaps left by the exhausted warriors.
At the same time, a modestly sized Magic Corps had crossed the planes to join them.
It consisted of fifteen Earth Magic practitioners of varying ages, but every one of them had determination in their eyes.
Though they were not the strongest spellcasters, they could use the earth as their foundation to support and stabilize military formations, manipulate terrain, and condense stone projectiles. They were indispensable pillars of the battlefield.
On the seventh day after Ang's force had departed Maple Sugar City fully equipped, Maple Sugar's Plane Portal suddenly began to flicker.
Dozens of figures clad in gray cloaks quietly emerged.
They blended into the crowd without drawing the attention of any guards.
Only after the flow of people had dispersed did