Just as Zong Shen was taking control of the Black-Winged Dragon Nest.
On the outskirts of Hanlubu Forest.
A sprawling military camp, like a gray tide of steel, had completely encircled the forest's lush greenery.
The golden banners representing the Avalon kingdom and the distinctive battle flags of the Dragonborn Legion snapped loudly in the wind.
The calls of training horns and the clash of metal between the fortifications could be faintly heard even from far away.
At the center of this sea of tents stood several temporary structures several times larger than ordinary tents, particularly conspicuous.
Even the surrounding magical radiance converged upon them.
This was the heart of the camp—the command tent.
At present, the atmosphere inside was both solemn and tense.
Magic lamps illuminated the tent, while the air was thick with the smells of leather, rust, and lingering smoke.
Several figures with profound auras stood around a long table pieced together from hardwood and covered in military maps.
Iron Wall Algernon stood at the head of the table.
He was not especially tall, yet he stood as firm as a boulder, giving off an overwhelming sense of security.
He wore an exceptionally heavy suit of jet-black plate armor.
The armor's surface was inscribed with high-level Runes designed to absorb impacts.
His pauldrons had been forged into the shape of roaring lion heads.
Algernon's face was hard and sharply chiseled, with neatly trimmed short whiskers along his cheeks.
There was little emotional fluctuation in those gray-blue eyes.
Only the tenacity of a fortress wall.
As the commander of the Dragonborn Legion's Third Legion, his Legendary upper-tier strength made him seem like an insurmountable wall simply by standing there.
"The scouts report that the resistance from Blackwing Fortress has continued to weaken."
"The frequency of counterattacks beyond the