Afton Battle (I)

Afton Plains, the front line of the battlefield.

The weather was clear and cloudless, and from time to time, Wyvern swept across the distant mountains, letting out long roars.

Camps stood on the snow-covered wasteland, and groups of filthy slave soldiers were building fortifications and moving supplies. Armies from the Bosque Duchy, the Fano Duchy, the Carter Duchy, and other the North states had also gathered here.

A middle-aged nobleman, dressed in exquisite armor, gazed into the distance with his hands behind his back, his tone heavy. His breastplate was adorned with the emblem of a lion and crossed swords.

"Haven't the Edson Family arrived yet?"

"Sir, we haven't received any messages from them, I'm afraid..."

"Damn it."

His face immediately darkened, and he paced back and forth, muttering to himself.

"The Edson Family, the Duran Family, the Rosa Family, the Wolf Family"

"The agreed-upon 70,000 troops are now less than two-thirds of their original strength. How am I supposed to hold off the Embers of the Burned Kingdom?!"

His name was Loren Bosk, and his noble status was evident from his surname. He was the second son of Grand Duke Leo, Earl and general of the Bosque Duchy, and the commander-in-chief of the first line of defense of the allied forces.

To demonstrate his determination to fight the dragon to the end, and also to silence the Northern Nobles, Grand Duke Leo sent his highly valued second son to the front lines of the battlefield.

The Wyvern in the distant sky grew increasingly dense, like a jumble of dark clouds, and beneath their chaotic wings, even the earth seemed to darken.

Loren stared intently at them, his expression grave. He instructed his adjutant standing beside him, "We have no time. The army of the Burning Blaze is coming soon."

"Notify all units to prepare for war. I don't expect to achieve any results. Our only task is to hold off their army, probe their weaknesses, and also to secure more for my father."

Suddenly, the heavy sound of war drums interrupted his words.

"Thump, thump, thump"

Loren instinctively turned his head and saw that the ground and sky in the distance were occupied by the ashes of an army:

An army with orderly marching Hobgoblin, strong Ogre, massive Armored Dragon Beast of dark, two-legged Wyvern, and giant cannons pointing to the sky—even a simple march like this would instill a sense of despair and oppression.

The rhythmic drumbeats continued incessantly, and the earth trembled slightly in response, like the heavy footsteps of death.

"Tempus Above"

Loren couldn't help but pray.

Despite the cold weather, cold sweat still seeped from his forehead.

He had observed the army of the Embers of the Burned Kingdom through Magic Image, but he did not believe they were invincible. However, when Loren faced them in reality, he truly realized how terrifying this Scourge army was.

"You're kidding, right?"

"So, are they our enemies?"

"How could that be?"

"Are they trying to send us to our deaths?"

The soldiers in the fortifications gazed at the distant legion, their voices trembling as they discussed the matter.

They were originally private armies from various the North countries, and their overall quality varied greatly. Some were professional mercenaries hired with money, and some were even serf soldiers from manors mixed in with them, passing off inferior soldiers as superior ones.

Such a huge and despairing gap in strength is obvious to any human being with a sound mind.

Loren frowned as he listened to the cacophony of voices.

"This can't go on any longer."

He knew that if things continued like this, their troops might completely lose their will and scatter before the army of the Embers of the Burned Kingdom even arrived, and he would be unable to complete the task his father had entrusted to him.

As a descendant of the Bosk Family, while enjoying generous treatment, Loren also yearned to become the family's successor, and even the nominal ruler of the the North.

Unfortunately, he was the second son.

Compared to those dissolute playboys, Loren had been working tirelessly since childhood. He practiced riding skills, studied tactics, and observed family affairs, hoping to attract the attention of Grand Duke Leo and thus replace his brother as the true successor of the family.

However, his efforts seemed so vulnerable under the "glorious tradition" that had the North for thousands of years.

This time, Grand Duke Leo has high hopes for him, and he also hopes to turn his life around through this war, at least to play a role in the duchy, and to become a hero who can be recorded in the family epic.

Thinking of this, Loren gritted his teeth.

"I have to stand up."

He personally came to the battlefield, drew his longsword, and raised it high.

As a Earl and the son of Grand Duke Leo, Loren was highly respected throughout the the North, and his unusual actions immediately attracted the attention of the surrounding soldiers.

"Soldiers—"

His voice was deep, yet powerful.

"As you have seen, the enemy is unexpectedly powerful, and this may be a war we cannot win. The enemy are terrifying monsters, Wyvern, Ogre, and Hobgoblin. They possess great power from the dragons, while we are just an ordinary group of humans. Compared to them, our only advantage Scania People is our resilience."

Loren paused, his tone becoming impassioned, and even the drums of the Burning Army became the background of his speech.

"But please remember that the land beneath your feet is the homeland on which the Scania People depend for survival, and the land that our ancestors have protected for thousands of years."

"I am a descendant of Bosque. Nine centuries ago, my ancestor, the first ' Lionheart King ' Roselle Bosk, led your ancestors to this unfamiliar land of Anzeta. Here we cultivated wasteland, built cities, and created the glorious Scania Civilization. The Frost Giant and White Dragon from the north never defeated us. We forged walls with our blood and defended our homeland time and time again."

"And nine centuries later, I, Loren Bosk, a descendant of Rossel, stand here with you, facing an enemy that is stronger and more cunning, but I believe history will repeat itself."

Suddenly, the drumming in the distance stopped.

Even Loren, who was speaking eloquently, was taken aback for a moment before continuing, "We will defend together—"

But his voice was interrupted by a more composed one, and the soldiers' gazes seemed to extend beyond Loren, converging on a more distant place. They even let out exclamations as if they had witnessed a miracle.

"Damn bastard, you shameless bastard."

Seeing that his words were ignored, Loren gritted his teeth and muttered a curse under his breath. He turned around and then froze on the spot, dumbfounded.

The army of the Embers of the Burned Kingdom halted and quietly encamped there, while above them hung a massive Magic Image hundreds of meters high.

The image showed a handsome young man with black hair and golden eyes, whose demeanor was far more noble than any nobleman in the history of the the North.

He smiled politely, and his deep, pale gold eyes captivated everyone—even Loren Bosk himself.

"Hello, everyone from the the North."

"Nice to meet you. I am Keosius. You should have heard of this name. I am the supreme ruler of the Embers of the Burned Kingdom, and also the ' Embers of the Burned King ' that you know."

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