Holy Alliance

The Dwarf king opened his arms and called out enthusiastically, "Hahaha, please come up, guests from afar, you've arrived just in time!"

A small, chicken-wing-high door, large enough for Dwarf to pass through, opened in the walls of Avendell Dan, and the Elf crouched down to enter.

Pegasus and unicorns, however, used the power of magic to ascend into the sky, circled a few times, and then landed on the city wall.

Before long, Rhea led the Elf to the walls of Avendell Dan.

The Dwarf king approached, extending his rough, blood-stained hand, seemingly wanting a handshake as a symbol of friendship.

"I am Ed. Klein, the ruler of the High Mountain Kingdom. Please give my regards to your queen."

The Half-elf hesitated for a moment, but did not extend his hand. He merely bowed slightly and lowered his eyelids.

"Greetings, Your Majesty Ed. I am Rhea Nairo, a general of the Silver Moon Followers, and the person in charge of this aid operation appointed by Her Majesty Iserin."

Behind him, the tall, beautiful Moon Elves bowed in unison to greet their leader, the Shield Dwarves.

"Ah, okay."

Ed withdrew his hand somewhat awkwardly, rubbed his hands together, and nodded in greeting, mimicking the Elf.

Aside from the orcs being a common enemy, Dwarf and Elf don't get along very well and find it difficult to live together.

The Dwarf considered the Elf arrogant and pretentious, while the Elf viewed the Dwarf as rude, stubborn, and unreasonable. The two races had clashed several times throughout history, but none of these conflicts escalated into war.

However, with Avendell Dan now facing an unprecedented orc invasion, these minor details no longer matter.

The Dwarf king laughed heartily, "Hahaha, so you are the famous ' Twilight Blade '."

I have heard of you. You once slew the Red Dragon alone in the the North, defeated the Son of Baal, and sent the demon lord who descended upon the world back to the Nine Hells.

As Half-elf, to be recognized by the proud Elf speaks volumes about your abilities.

Rhea gazed at the Dwarf before her, her silver eyes like water, her voice still as cold and calm as ever.

"Ed your praise, Your Majesty Ed. My past experiences are nothing compared to those of the Lord of the High Mountains and the Lord of the Shield Dwarves."

"And now I am merely a captain of the Queen's personal guard, loyal to her every whim; Her Majesty Catherine's will is my guiding principle."

In the past, the Dwarf king would probably have muttered, "No wonder he's half long-eared; he's still so arrogant and pretentious."

However, at this moment, Ed forcibly suppressed the urge to speak and silently wiped the blood from his hands.

The Half-elf raised his head, gazing at the enormous Golden Dragon seated atop the city tower, and asked softly, "Your Majesty Ed, who is this?"

"He is Titus, a friend of the High Mountain Kingdom."

As you can see, he is a powerful and ancient Golden Dragon, the one who repelled the orcs and saved Avendell Dan in the critical moment.

Not only that, Titus is also a skilled spellcaster; he just foretold your arrival to me."

Ed's tone was exceptionally warm, revealing his deep respect for this "Titus," after all, in his eyes, this was the benefactor who had just saved Avendell Dan.

Rhea raised her head without fear, looked directly at the Golden Dragon on the city wall, and said loudly, "Titus, it is an honor to fight alongside you."

"With the help of a powerful Ancient Gold Dragon like yourself, this war should become much easier."

Upon hearing this, the Golden Dragon also lowered its head and looked at the Half-elf not far away. Its pale golden pupils shimmered, and its whiskers fluttered in mid-air.

He said softly, "Half-elf who can become Chosen One, how interesting."

Rhea narrowed her eyes slightly and frowned gently. She felt that Golden Dragon's gaze did not seem like that of someone meeting her for the first time, but rather that he seemed to know her very well.

"This is the prophetic mage."

As Iserin's most loyal and powerful follower, the Half-elf harbored many secrets, and she hated the feeling of being seen through.

Rhea could never have imagined that the Golden Dragon in front of her was the Wyrmling she had released more than a decade ago, and also the Embers of the Burned Emperor of Anzeta.

More than a decade later, the two met again in this way, which was quite dramatic.

For some reason, Rhea felt a chill run down her spine, but it was gone in an instant, as if it had never happened.

Is it just my imagination?

Rhea gripped the silver sword at her waist, her gaze slightly somber, and thought to herself.

Meanwhile, Keosius, transformed into "Titus," wiped his scales, gently stroking his whiskers with his claws, thinking to himself.

"Hehe. It's not the right time yet."

"Once Rhea helps Iserin reclaim Serenia, I'll drop the pretense and strike against her. Only then can I seize the greatest benefit."

He buried that fleeting desire for revenge deep in his heart and continued to maintain the elegant and proud demeanor of the Golden Dragon.

Keosius continued stroking his beard, smiling meaningfully, "I am very happy to be accompanied by a strong person like Rhea."

"Thank you for the compliment."

However, Ed, who was always outspoken and simple-minded, did not notice anything amiss. He continued to laugh heartily and even slung the warhammer over his shoulder.

"Thousands of years ago, the ancestors of the High Mountain Kingdom and Serenia formed Holy Alliance in this way, and today, we gather in Avendell Dan to discuss countermeasures!"

With your help, I no longer need to worry about the orcish invasion!

The Dwarf king summoned his guards and ordered them to bring up several barrels of the strongest wine, which he then presented to his allies. He raised his cup and drank it all in one gulp.

"For justice!"

The Elf disliked the Dwarf' fiery spirits, preferring instead a refreshing and elegant fruit wine, but for the sake of the Dwarf king, they reluctantly raised their glasses.

Without saying Half-elf, Rhea stepped forward and unceremoniously raised Paladin glass.

Even the Golden Dragon received a full barrel of wine, which he carefully lifted by twisting it with his claws.

"For justice!"

Wooden goblets were raised high, clinking together, spilling wine, and cheers from Dwarf and Elf echoed through the sky.

And so, the Dwarf, Elf, and Golden Dragon formed an alliance, working together to uphold justice and order and resist the orc invasion from the north.

But no one could have imagined that this "Holy Alliance" would include a Red Dragon draped in a Golden Dragon skin, whom the people of Fei An Suo called the Tyrant of Anzeta.

However, with war looming, after drinking a glass of strong liquor, Ed summoned Bjorn to discuss countermeasures with the reinforcements from Serenia.

Meanwhile, in the animal hide camps north of Avendell Dan, the chieftains of the various orc tribes were engaged in a fierce argument.

Orcs with ferocious tattoos of Worg, vultures, and lions glared at each other, spitting as they fought.

"Gatuso, are you that afraid of that golden-skinned reptile?"

In my opinion, we should shoot it down and use its head as a sacrifice to our Father God. Great orc warriors should not fear any enemy!

"You're talking nonsense! That's a damned Golden Dragon! Sending ordinary clan warriors to fight it is just suicide!"

"Hmph! Cowards should be impaled by Blood Spear. True followers of Gruumsh are not like you, cowering in fear! It seems that all the orcs of your Cold Crow Clan are such cowards!"

"True courage is proven with the blood of the enemy, not by idle chatter here! Come, I challenge you to a sacred duel, let us settle this on the battlefield!"

"Let's see if your spear pierces my chest first, or my scimitar cuts off your head first!"

Two burly orcs suddenly stood up, their eyes blazing with rage and even undisguised killing intent.

Before Batu Shatterskull unified the Ugo Prairie, hundreds of tribes fought each other, many of which had formed deep-seated blood feuds and barely maintained peace. The Cold Crow and Black Wolf Tribe were one such example.

Fifty years ago, the Raven Tribe attacked the Black Wolf Tribe's stronghold, killed their chief, and enslaved hundreds of people. Twenty years later, the Black Wolf Tribe ambushed the Raven Tribe's hunting party and made bowls from all of their skulls.

Such acts of mutual vendettas and attacks were commonplace among the orc tribes of the Ugo Prairie.

The enemy tribes of the Red Fang Tribe had long been exterminated by Batu, with all adult males killed and children and women enslaved, not even qualified to be annexed.

The "Great Orcish Kingdom" established by Batu is less a nation and more a vast clan collective built upon the theocratic faith of the Father God Gruumsh.

"Smack!"

With a crisp sound, the table inside the tent was smashed open and shattered on the ground.

"Enough!"

Batu Shatterskull, his single remaining eye burning with rage, and he was suppressing boundless fury in his throat.

"I have gathered you here in accordance with the will of the great Father God, not to watch you quarrel!"

Instantly, the previously chaotic camp fell silent. The orc leaders, who had just been arguing fiercely, all fell silent.

Batu surveyed his surroundings menacingly, and only after seeing that the orcs had completely submitted did he pick up the blood-stained battle axe from the ground.

"Gatuso, Quett, you don't need to worry about that golden-skinned reptile. I'll handle it myself!"

Bloodlust surged in the Orc Chieftain's single eye, and a ferocious smile appeared on his ugly, rough, yellowish-green face as he licked his fangs.

Ah, if it were Mellward's "Silver Wing" who had caught Bahamut's attention, I would be a little more wary.

Batu stroked the sharp axe blade, letting fine beads of blood seep from his palm. "But a mere Golden Dragon that appeared out of nowhere dares to try and stop the orcs' conquest? What a joke!"

In fact, the annihilation of the advance force was indeed part of Batu's plan, but the defeat was faster than he had imagined.

Even Monk's heroic sacrifice was within his expectations. In Batu's view, Monk should give everything for the Father God and the clan.

Moreover, as his younger brother, Monk was ambitious and ruthless, having gouged out his own left eye without uttering a sound. His death, for Batu Shatterskull had just secured his position as chieftain, was not necessarily a bad thing.

After all, the High Mountain Kingdom has existed for thousands of years and has a profound foundation. The advance force is only to probe the enemy's strengths and weaknesses and to damage the Dwarf traps and facilities. The real offensive will come later.

At that time, he will personally lead his army to conquer Avendell Dan, becoming the greatest hero of the orc race in nearly a thousand years, and the one favored by the Father God.

Just then, the old shaman slowly walked forward. "Lord Batu, there is some bad news for us orcs."

Batu raised an eyebrow. "What news?"

The old shaman took out a ritual implement made of skull, which had been polished to an exceptionally bright shine, from his bosom and held it up with trembling hands.

On the smooth surface of the skull, a blurry image gradually emerged:

First appeared the city of Avendell Dan, riddled with holes, followed by Elf with pointed ears, and numerous pegasus and unicorns.

The Orc Chieftain's face darkened. "This is..."

The old shaman sighed, his voice low and hoarse, like a gentle breeze blowing through wild grass.

"My lord, as you can see, the Serenia Elf have indeed sent reinforcements, including a powerful legend, Half-elf known as the Twilight Blade."

Batu gritted his teeth, his expression furious. "Damn it, didn't those Elf in the Council of Elders break the treaty a long time ago? How come the Elf reinforcements are here!"

The old shaman shook his head, his voice low. "I'm sorry, Batu, I don't know either."

But one thing is certain—we must conquer Avendell Dan within seven days; this is a death order from the Father God.

Otherwise, when the Blood Mist dissipates and reinforcements from Mount Paradise arrive, even the Father God will be unable to stop the gods of Modinsaman from unleashing their power, and then we will...

"Nasu, I know."

Batu spoke slowly and deliberately, his single eye narrowing slightly, his expression growing increasingly fierce.

"I will not fail the Father God's expectations. I will lead the orcs to conquer Avendell Dan within seven days—at all costs."

In the sky, the giant eagles and vultures tamed by the orcs circled like dense black dots, emitting hoarse and noisy cries.

"Praise be to Father God Gruumsh"

"He took up his spear and struck the earth, creating caves, withered forests, and wastelands for his people to live in."

"We will use the skulls of our enemies as our wrists, their blood as our wine, and their skin as our clothing, and offer it all to you."

The Orc Shaman raised their Bone Staff, letting out long shouts and chanting incantations passed down from ancient times.

Inside the valley, the orcs built altars from the remains of the Dwarf, made various sacrificial implements from their bones, and drank the blood of their enemies.

Suddenly, the sky darkened, and blood-red mist emerged from the statue made of Dwarf skulls, spreading throughout the valley.

Immediately afterwards, the blood mist spread rapidly northward, and all the creatures that smelled it, whether they were Worg, manticores, Owlbear, or hyenas, became even more ferocious.

These frenzied beasts surged south in droves, becoming tools for the orcs to wage war.

Even the orcs shrouded in it had cloudy eyes. They waved their weapons and shouted the slogan "Blood sacrifice to the Father God".

Finally, a huge, one-eyed rune emerged from the distant gloom, its surface shimmering with blood-red light, gazing towards Avendell Dan like a real eye, revealing boundless greed.

On the land, the fanatical orcs, chanting the name of their Father God, drove away the ferocious beasts and surged towards Avendell Dan like a raging tide.