And it was on that very night.
The Kingdom, which should have lain silent and still, trembled without cease beneath the pounding of hooves.
"Koester is up ahead!"
The bishop had followed behind Grant, flying for nearly half the night. At last, he spotted the city on the distant horizon, shrouded beneath a barrier, and could not help shouting. Seeing the faint glow emitted by the Rune Defense Array, Grant seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as well.
"...They haven't withdrawn."
The bishop immediately echoed, "Yes. We got here so quickly—they didn't have time to run!"
Behind them was still a vast, dark mass of priests. Yet after flying for so long, fatigue showed on every face. Beneath the entire aerial formation, the Kingdom Army's cavalry pressed onward, their hooves kicking up dust that scattered everywhere like a spreading mist. Hidden beneath it, even the bloodshot veins in their eyes seemed less conspicuous.
As for the rest of the Kingdom Army, limited to traveling on foot, they had already been left far behind. According to the plan, the advance force would reach Koester first to prevent the Black Nightmare Army from escaping. Once the rear forces joined them, they would launch the full assault.
The plan was something of a gamble. After all, their main fighting strength—the multiple Holy Light Cannons—was with the rear forces. If the Black Nightmare Army gritted its teeth and left the city to fight the advance force, the Kingdom Army itself would suffer grievous losses. But... there was no helping it. Things had come to this; they had no choice but to gamble.
"When will the fleet arrive?" Grant turned and asked.
"They're accelerating as much as they can, but... tonight's wind is unfavorable, so they simply can't move any faster." The bishop hesitated