Dust Settles

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

One person led the way while the others followed behind, several streaks of light cutting across the sky.

The naval battlefield was only a few hundred kilometers from Antwerp City, the capital of the "Lowland Republic." At the speed of a fourth-rank "Titled Knight," reaching this place took less than an hour.

The "Supreme Knight" at the front wore a dark expression, as though his face had been covered in frost.

He had keenly realized that with the fall of the "Bonecrusher Warhammer," the strength of both sides' High-level Extraordinary Persons had returned to balance. Sirius was destined to lose its control over the Frisia Kingdom.

Rather than being completely overwhelmed by rage, he immediately shifted from the perspective of a peak Extraordinary person to that of a war commander, surveying the entire situation.

Could they somehow reclaim their advantage in combat strength?

Impossible. They had not been able to do it before, and it was even less possible now. Throwing everything away in a reckless gamble after getting hot-headed was something only desperadoes would do.

Where had the so-called "Thunder Dragon's Roar," Sacani, come from?

The possibility that he was a wild Titled Knight was negligible. It could only be Tulip, Sacani, Heymar, or Atlan—powers that desperately wanted Sirius to suffer disaster—pulling strings behind the scenes.

Would "Thunder Dragon's Roar," or the observing nations, continue joining forces with Frisia to relentlessly pursue Sirius?

The possibility was slim. He had appeared at the critical moment when Valhalla was destroyed, clearly having watched the war for a long time. He had not helped Frisia, but the "weak."

The path before Sirius no longer offered the best choice, only the least bad one.

They had to do everything possible to weaken the "Lowland Republic," this rising nation that had