The airships above the camp circled at low altitude, occasionally spewing magic power that whipped up clouds of dust.
Janice looked up at the airships streaking across the sky, her eyes full of envy and amazement.
"I never expected Viscount Ange to have airships supporting his battles." She sighed softly, unable to hide her envy.
Ang stood before the command tent, silently watching the distant mountains.
He was not basking in others' praise. He was considering the pace of the next advance.
Unlike the Great Nobles who liked to flaunt their banners and pursue extravagant displays, his fighting style had always been practical—he sought only efficiency, not spectacle. Whatever worked and could win, he used.
Every day, battle reports from the First and Second Legions were delivered to the central command tent by magical messengers.
That morning, Ang accepted a confidential letter from the messenger and unfolded it beneath the sunlight. After scanning it, his gaze relaxed slightly.
"It seems their progress is going well. The small tribes along the way have basically been cleared out," Ang said quietly. His tone was unemotional, yet it conveyed his control over the situation.
"My lord, should we also speed up?" An officer stepped forward and asked cautiously.
"Starting today, the whole army will accelerate." Ang nodded and issued the order.
As the order was relayed, the central army began advancing faster. Three days later, the vanguard scouts discovered traces of a small lizardman tribe.
Without the slightest hesitation, Ang ordered a long-range bombardment with explosive shells. Before the smoke had even cleared, the ground troops charged in after it like a sharp blade piercing the enemy formation.
In less than an hour, the lizardman tribe had been reduced to ruins, and the enemy was almost entirely killed or wounded.
By the time