December 20th, dusk, outside Golden Wheatstack Fortress.
When that familiar banner—bearing a castle encircled by golden wheat stalks—appeared on the horizon at the edge of sight, a fire finally erupted in Luo Yao's numb eyes, almost mad: a blaze mingling bone-deep hatred, utter exhilaration, and the desire for destruction.
Golden Wheatstack Fortress.
One of the strongest and most prosperous castles on the Field Territory peninsula.
Its master was Count Kraft, the very culprit who had once "warmly" invited them into the city to rest, only to turn ruthless in the dead of night, surround them with his troops, force them at swordpoint to surrender most of their provisions and weapons, drive them out of the city like beggars, and ultimately push them onto a dead-end road.
"Kraft... you old dog..." Luo Yao forced out the name through clenched teeth, his voice hoarse and steeped in venomous hatred.
Here, he and the thousands of brothers under his command had suffered their greatest humiliation, lost their last hope, and finally been driven onto this road of no return.
This castle—this castle that embodied greed, cruelty, betrayal, and the abyss into which they had been cast—was no longer merely a military target in his eyes. It was a sacrifice that had to be utterly destroyed, cleansed in blood and fire!
"General! It's Golden Wheatstack Fortress! That bastard Kraft's den!" At his side, an officer with a savage sword scar on his face snarled through gritted teeth. Back when they had been plundered, he had drawn his blade in fury; now, he was one of Luo Yao's most ferocious commanders. The same flames of vengeance burned in his eyes.
Many of the Veteran Soldiers around them—the old Southwestern Border Army troops who had endured the Humiliation of Kraft—had reddened eyes as well. They clenched