South of the Western Forest Sea.
After a furious quarrel with the Elves, the dwarves' airship army finally flew north. The ceaselessly roaring airships above the forest appeared in humanity's field of vision.
"How... how are we supposed to fight something like that?"
Grand Duke Oren was tense beyond measure atop the city wall. He would rather have been anywhere else, but Ryan had insisted he needed to steady the army's morale. Damn it, those dwarves wouldn't kill even him, would they?
Grand Duke Oren feared death, but he did not believe his status could shield him from it. Having once experienced the Divine Kingdom Battlefield in the void, he had long since understood that so-called status was useless on certain battlefields.
In a war between humans and other races, why would human nobles receive special treatment?
Boom!!!
The blinding light faded, and a huge crater appeared on Oren City's wall. Grand Duke Oren, whose steps had gone unsteady, could clearly feel that he had taken another step closer to death.
"Ryan took all the troops to The Woodlands. What about Oren City?"
Sweat streamed down Grand Duke Oren's forehead, but he still kept his stride firm. He, too, had once walked out from mountains of corpses and seas of blood, so he was not that afraid of war.
His outstanding reactions made him begin thinking, at that very moment, about how to win this war.
"No, wait. There's still one army..."
Grand Duke Oren looked around. There was still one army that had come from the north. No, there should be two.
One was the army from the Gerald Noble Territory. The other looked much more ragtag, some militia force Ryan had dragged in from who knew where. In any case, Oren City could only rely on them now.