Knightly Charge, Trampling, Splendor and Glory

The order reached the Northwind Province.

The emperor gave the order, and the loyal nobles had no right to refuse.

"When this war ends, Baron Ryan, your reputation and prestige will shine even brighter."

Viscount Miles said enviously that when he was in the Imperial Capital, he was a nobody and had to beg the nobles for help. But here in Ryan, the nobles in the Imperial Capital would mention him on their own initiative.

Viscount Miles was right; this was undoubtedly a huge opportunity, and seizing it would allow them to fully enter the circle of the South nobility.

But Ryan thought a lot. He thought of the Emperor's idea of adding more chips to the scales, he thought of Elector Volvo's idea of using this method to show goodwill and win him over again, and he also thought of what the nobles saw: Meyers and the Elector were in cahoots.

Similarly, just as Chrysus thought war would be dangerous, so did Ryan.

Legendary, eight Legendary: Griffin, Wyverns, Witch Ghosts, Gargoyle, and Crusaders —five powerful Extraordinary Legion. If one were to become involved in such extraordinary warfare, the word "danger" would hardly suffice.

The nobles may think that as commanders of war, they don't have to do anything, but that's not the case at all. If they really want to win by commanding the war, it's impossible without taking risks.

Adventure means danger.

Someone wanted to kill him, most likely Meyers, and Ryan hadn't forgotten that.

Ryan had to participate in this war again. Just as the nobles of the Northwind Province were wary of the consequences of opposing Baron Ryan, Ryan was also helpless against the Emperor's orders. The Empire was powerful, and Ryan did not want to become its adversary.

"So... how do we get involved in this war?"

Ryan thought about the war that was breaking out in the kingdom. This time, he couldn't call Daryl to his side to protect him, nor did he have a second Divine Bone Potion to invite a Legendary to follow him.

He knew very well what the war there was like, but what did he possess?

They own the Stag Legion.

The wind in the wilderness felt warm and dry with the arrival of summer. The sky was clear and blue, and beneath the blue sky and white clouds lay a majestic landscape. In this extraordinary world, even the dust seemed to possess a kind of spirituality.

Ryan looked down at the land from the sky. It was different from looking down from an airplane. The whole world seemed to be smashing into his eyes like a giant mirror. The scene was breathtaking.

Of course, it would be better if the Griffin's wings occasionally produced feathers, and if Master Brock next to it didn't keep complaining.

"There's no other way; your Griffin is the only one in the entire Frozen Earth Territory that can help me avoid the kingdom's war."

Ryan waved his hand. He understood Brock's feelings. Master Brock had been researching the forging of Legendary weapons and equipment recently. Ryan felt that this matter was very important, but for the sake of his own methods, he could only ask Master Brock to do something inconvenient.

"Although you are a blacksmith, as my follower, you will inevitably be involved in war in the future. This is my way of letting you learn from him up close."

"Don't underestimate it, there are so many nobles who want to learn it but I won't teach them."

Ryan said with a laugh, as the wind from the sky filled his mouth with hair.

"This Griffin has been molting quite frequently lately."

Ryan also complained.

"I fed it a lot of dragon blood and Dragon Bone Powder to accelerate its growth, so shedding its fur was inevitable."

"Master Brock said, then picked up his hammer and tried to hit everything."

Fortunately, the majestic mountains had receded into the distance, and what came into view was the open field beneath his feet. Ryan even saw herds of zebras and buffalo running wildly across the grassland, with a pride of lions chasing after them.

"This is the plain between the hills and the Woodlands, the only passage connecting the eastern part of the empire to the South lands."

As the Griffin landed, the surrounding beasts were terrified of its Magical Beast. Moreover, Griffin are inherently ferocious, and for a time, many wild animals kept their distance.

Ryan stepped onto the grass, the soft earth making him envious. He wished he could own this place someday.

Beside him, Planar Gate opened, and Brock entered. Not long after, Brandt, leading his warhorse, emerged, followed by more and more Stag Attendant.

Half an hour later, two thousand five hundred fully armed knights and cavalrymen stood behind Ryan, and the wild beasts in the distance... could no longer be seen at all.

"Tsk tsk, this method of troop transport is really convenient and fast. I doubt anyone would have guessed that my army had already arrived here."

Ryan laughed. This was the solution he had come up with after thinking about it for a long time: using Planar Gate to bring the army to the other side of the war.

As for how to win a war? Who said that winning a war requires direct participation in combat?

"How can we, here, decide the outcome of the war between the Kingdom and Dawn?"

Brock, who couldn't keep his thoughts to himself, asked directly.

Ryan looked at the grassland and took a deep breath.

"This time, we'll show the nobles of this world what the multifaceted nature of war truly means."

"I'm going to teach them a good lesson."

"Let them remember what Ryan Warfare is all about."

After saying all this, Ryan would come over and answer Brock's question.

"The Gerald Noble Territory is divided into two Earldom: the Ink Eye and the Golden Eye. The Dark-Eyed Count Territory 420 knights, and the Golden-Eyed Count Territory 485 knights."

"These nearly one thousand knights, leading the army of the noble lords, fought a two-year war against the Minotaurs and Gnolls in the Northlands."

"The two Earldom were already burdened with the responsibility of supporting these knights, and the arrival of the Orc War increased the pressure on them even further. The resources they needed to consume were squeezed out little by little."

"After all these years, how many noble territories are left?"

"But at this time, they didn't even have time to rest. They declared war on the Andara Kingdom. The knights not only brought their serf army, but also the Crusader Atonement Army, a major resource-consuming force."

"One after another, the Earldom has long since lost all the food and weapons it could squeeze out of the land."

"This war is for the Dawn, Gerald's only way is to ask the nobles in the South lands and the Church of Dawn for help."

"Only in this way can they hold out in this war that cannot end quickly but will gradually become a stalemate and a war of attrition."

"It's not just Gerald, the same goes for the Sera Kingdom."

"War requires supplies, soldiers need food, and victory requires strong and effective logistics."

"This battle has gone on for a long time, and it's not just about people anymore; it's also about money and wealth."

Ryan pulled on his riding crop and pointed to the vast green meadow in front of him.

"And this is one of the only two passages."

"As for the other one, it would of course be Northwind Avenue, but that's impossible, isn't it?"

"So this is the only place to transport supplies to the the North for the war; all their supplies will pass through here."

Ryan looked at Brock, then his gaze fell on the Griffin.

"This little guy's going to have to do a bit of work; after all, he's the only one in our territory with scouting capabilities."

The Griffin spread its wings and roared, then became the only black shadow in the sky, hovering above the heavens.

"I wonder when my Otherworld will be able to discover aerial units like Griffin?"

Ryan had long admired MacReynolds's Griffin Legion.

The Gerald Count Territory, the castle of Dark-Eyed Count.

Zedon Zelton Count Gerald looked at the South sky with a worried expression.

"Damn it, where did all that food go?"

"Our food supplies can only last for ten days at most. After that, the Crusader Atonement Army will probably be furious and overturn my castle."

He sighed, then looked helplessly at the butler.

"Is there really no food left?"

The count sighed, while the butler's expression was one of utter bitterness, like he'd just eaten shit.

"There's nothing we can do, sir. Our soldiers have searched the territory three times and found everything edible. This is really all we have left. Moreover, the wheat has already been harvested ahead of schedule this year. This autumn, your warehouse may not be able to hold a single grain of food."

The steward even seemed somewhat desperate. Their food shortage wasn't a recent phenomenon; it had been ongoing for years since the war with the Northern Orcs began. Those damned Orcs were always eyeing the human farmland.

"According to the letter you wrote to the South, the supplies being transported north should be arriving soon. You are fighting for the Faith of Dawn, and the Lord of Dawn will not deceive you."

The steward knelt on the ground, trembling, and said that he knew the situation in the territory better than anyone else. The food could sustain the army for a few more days, but the serfs in the Earldom had been starving for who knows how long. Dead people? He didn't even dare to tell the earl how many people had died this week.

Dark-Eyed Count did not blame his butler. He knew the butler's loyalty, and he also understood that he was not the only one facing this problem, but also his Uncle Merlan, Count Gerald the Golden Eye.

He had more knights, and his lands were closer to the Northlands. They had already been searching for supplies heading north and south, fearing that the coming war would overwhelm the Earldom.

Zedon couldn't help but look at this world. Was Gerald's tradition of Knight and King, which had been maintained for thousands of years, really wrong? Was it really outdated?

If Father saw the Earldom now, he would probably be so angry that he would fly down from the Kingdom of Dawn and beat himself up.

When will the food arrive?

"It seems this is the food sent the North to supply the war effort."

Standing on a hillside, Ryan, riding on the back of Winter's Chill Warhorse, basked in the sunlight and looked at the endless caravan stretching across the distant grasslands.

"Tsk tsk, it seems that His Holiness the Pope has put in a lot of effort for this war, arranging so many supplies."

He was determined to win the war.

Ryan laughed.

"If all of humanity's resources were used for development, the world would have long since escaped hunger and cold. It is because they have wasted too many resources on meaningless wars and deaths that the Northlands is so terrified of them."

"I'm going to get them back on track."

"For the advancement of human civilization, and to combat the harsh winter of the Northlands, let us devoutly praise the Dawn and thank the Lord for His gifts to us."

Ryan prayed fervently on the spot for ten minutes. Unfortunately, during that long time, the supply train did not discover Ryan's location or take any precautions.

After finishing his prayer, Ryan drew his Knight's Greatsword. The sound of metal scraping against the scabbard was both piercing and melodious.

"Raise the flag!"

He shouted loudly, and behind him, countless banners bearing the outline of Rhino Horn Mountain fluttered like a dark cloud, their sound echoing across the wild landscape like the loudest horn.

"Attack!!!"

The moment the swords pointed, the two thousand five hundred Knight Retainer raised their heads, their blazing eyes shining through the cold stag-shaped visors. In that instant, they drew their longswords, and the two thousand five hundred Knight's Greatsword touched the metal sheaths, tearing apart the peace and tranquility of the sky in perfect unison.

The knight raised his head, and the warhorse lowered its head.

The iron hooves pounded restlessly on the fragrant soil, then faster and faster, like a torrent, like the Grim Reaper, instantly engulfing the golden grassland world under the sunlight.

A black torrent appeared at the edge of the world, approaching its ranks at an unimaginable speed.

At this moment, the members of the South nobles' supply train finally spotted the black cavalry that came from the edge of the world, yet was so close at hand.

"Kill them all!"

Beneath the cracked and scratched Mithril Armor, Ryan unleashed a cold command. In that instant, the icy Knight's Greatsword transformed into the scythe of death, and the slaves, frozen in place, unable to resist or even react, were slaughtered in their own pools of blood.

The Stag Legion surged forward like a flood, their iron hooves thundering and roaring across the earth. Wherever they went, dirt flew into the air, and the churned soil fell to the ground, drowning in rivers of blood.

The sky churned with the rhythm of war, the earth lay deep, drinking in the blood of life, and the raging winds of the void grew ever stronger, howling and surging behind the army. The blazing sun overhead joined in, painting a picture of cruel and cold glory with its golden brilliance, casting a long, narrow shadow across the land.

This war had only one victim: the lives lost. Faced with the galloping Northern Warhorse, no one had the speed or opportunity to escape or hide. The land ahead was so flat that there were no depressions or bumps to be seen.

The stunning terrain also rejected the pleas of all those who had lost their dignity and wanted to eke out a living.

"Kill!"

Before knights, there is no tradition of not killing those who kneel; the only question is whether the will of the nobles has been obeyed.

Ryan trampled on the blood, determined to remember the feeling and to remain vigilant so that the Dragons's will would not have any influence on him.

Around him, soldiers silently and joyfully carried the supplies gathered by the nobles of the South lands to another world, awaiting the return of their lord, and then taking them to the foot of Rhino Horn Mountain, which was covered by wind and snow.

One day, two days, three days.

These past few days, the herbivores on the leveled grasslands have enjoyed a rare moment of peace, while the ferocious beasts have also been lying in the afternoon sun, watching their food supplies run off without doing anything.

They were full.

As a result, not a single grain of food appeared before them in the Gerald Noble Territory and the Sera Kingdom.

The two Count Gerald' eyes were completely red, and they stared intently at the soldiers they had sent out.

"Where's the food?!?!"

"What about the food?"

The count's voice was already a little hoarse, because the war had continued and the food supplies were running out. The Crusader Atonement Army came to inquire, and their own knights and serfs were all starving.

It won't be long, just tomorrow, just tomorrow when a new war breaks out, the army of the Andara Kingdom will find that their enemy's muscles are loose and they have no strength!

so...

"What about the food?"

The river that once flowed, now the battlefield of the Rift, saw Cleric Awen coldly watching Gerald's knight.

Even Legendary need to eat; without food, Legendary will starve.

This is the fundamental truth, but now, looking at those empty buckets of grain, no one can laugh.

The day without food was fast approaching, just as the count had predicted. The soldiers, who hadn't eaten breakfast, were gurgling to themselves, their cheeks drooping, their jaws oozing fluid, and their eyes were incredibly cloudy.

Their fighting power declined without limit due to their desire to fight.

Thus, death was closer to them than ever before.

"What about the food?"

The Crusader Atonement Army, none of them are to be trifled with. They fear the judgment of the Dawn, but that doesn't mean they are gentle at heart. Their bloodthirsty eyes are about to devour those Gerald alive.

In fact, many vicious people have already done so. The appearance of Ogres caused the war to completely collapse. They had already invaded the land of the Andara Kingdom, but at this moment they voluntarily gave up every inch of that land.

"Kill!!!"

"Kill them!!!"

A new war broke out. Gerald's army, which was completely ineffective in fighting, kept retreating. Cleric Awen could no longer sit still, because the Gargoyle Count had once again set his sights on him.

"Damn it, where's the stuff from the Holy Mountain?"

He was puzzled, as those things should have been delivered along with the grain.

"No one is allowed to back down; believers of the Dawn must serve our Lord with their lives!"

Cleric Awen unleashed a barrage of Divine Art Divine Art made the soldiers forget their hunger. The effects were remarkable, and their combat strength gradually increased, allowing them to fight the kingdom's army on equal terms.

but...

The earth rumbled and roared behind the Gerald Army and the Crusader Atonement Army. Many people were familiar with it; it was the powerful and majestic sound brought about by the resonance of warhorses' iron hooves.

Gerald had a cavalry army?

The answer was obvious: the flag of Rhino Horn Mountain appeared high above, and Baron Ryan, clad in Mithril Armor, lifted his visor and smiled at the fierce battle raging in the distance.

"It seems I've come at an inopportune time; you all seem to have little time."

"So... shall you continue?"

After Ryan finished speaking, he leaned slightly to the side and took a piece of freshly roasted animal leg from Brandt's hand, along with spices from the Fragrant Mountain Plains and a swig of clear ale.

Whether it tastes good or not is hard to say, but that moment of tearing food apart—

It smells fucking good.

The soldiers were in despair. The Divine Art made them forget their hunger, but their bodies still made them drool, which instantly soaked their clothes.

(End of this chapter)