Chapter 447: A Warning, Dragon Legion

The cataclysmic upheaval within the Beastkin Kingdom has flooded the intelligence networks of every realm and organization, rapidly disseminating to those who require such knowledge.

This bizarre state of affairs soon drew the attention of several major powers, especially since the dwarven and elven kingdoms are facing similar rebellions and uprisings.

As an increasingly sprawling organization, bolstered by the preposterous speed of the Prayer Communication Network, relevant intelligence reaches every node and member almost the instant it is known. This naturally includes the Kingdom of Alastair, a location of unique significance to the Church of Night.

However, Alastair currently lacks the mental bandwidth to monitor the Beastkin Kingdom, for a more pressing crisis demands his attention: an invasion from neighboring human kingdoms. Unbeknownst to them, the four borders of the realm have been besieged, with various kingdoms massing their armies in a tightening ring around Alastair.

This is an unprecedented crisis. These kingdoms, silently declaring war, are not the desperate, resource-starved remnants of Seowintan, struggling to survive in a frozen wasteland. They are nations like Alastair itself—developed, stable, and possessing sufficient military might.

Alastair suffered significant losses in the war against Seowintan. To face a four-nation siege while still reeling from the scars of the previous conflict is, by any measure, an unimaginable dead end. One must either surrender and be utterly occupied, or lead the entire populace in a desperate gamble, only to be defeated and annihilated.

But Xia Er refuses to choose either of these outcomes.

"Very well. The four Grand Dukes, you shall all proceed to the Western Frontier. As for the rest, my friends and I have ways to resolve them. Four legends, backed by the armies you command, will be more than enough to deter the enemy forces in the West."

Having coordinated with the four Grand Dukes, Xia Er finalized the plan. While he is no master of grand strategy, in a situation where the disparity of power is so extreme, conventional tactics are meaningless. Only by stepping outside the chessboard and smashing it with a fist can one truly break the deadlock.

"Hoo..."

Exhaling a heavy, stifling breath, Xia Er slumped into his office chair, his body going limp as he rubbed his temples with trembling fingers.

"Damn it, this is the only way I can think of. You wretched bastards, I want to see if your entire kingdom has been so thoroughly brainwashed that you dare to defy the will of your own people and push this war to the bitter end."

"Sigh, half of this is..."

...

On the Eastern Frontier, at the edge of the Alastair Kingdom, massive enemy forces have arrayed themselves. They stand in grim, silent formation along the border, coldly watching the solitary, outnumbered garrison troops.

The overwhelming disparity in numbers exerts a crushing pressure, both psychological and physical, as they wait for the defenders to surrender of their own accord. Should that not happen, the iron cavalry will charge, and crushing these pathetically weak defenders will be a trivial task.

Yet, at this moment, as the atmosphere grew heavy to the point of suffocation, a spatial ripple appeared. A figure emerged onto the battlefield, drawing the gaze of the entire army before speaking in a booming voice.

"If possible, I would prefer not to fight you. Could you please leave Alastair? As far as I know, Alastair has no grievances with the Kingdom of Losman. If this war begins, it will surely benefit neither side, don't you think?"

His expression was natural. Even faced with a sea of soldiers, Wang Yu showed no sign of tension. It was hard to imagine—could it be that, as he claimed, he would actually choose to engage this entire army from the neighboring Kingdom of Losman if necessary?

"..."

The commander of the Losman army frowned. After a brief internal consultation and confirming that there was no intelligence on a person named Wang Yu, he immediately issued the order to advance.

"Fine. Come then."

Shaking his head, Wang Yu never expected to talk these invaders out of their mission with his lackluster eloquence. So, let them fight; things usually end up this way regardless.

"Boom!"

A phantom roar swept across the plains. In this flat terrain, void energy began to surge frantically. A massive void rift was forcibly torn open by the power of the war chariot, allowing entities from the void to project their power within a certain range.

In an instant, the Losman army plunged into darkness. Looking up, the midday sun was suppressed and extinguished, the clear sky shifting abruptly into a pitch-black, sightless night.

All of this originated from the colossal, obsidian tree growing where that mysterious figure stood. Its projected canopy utterly stripped the surrounding area of the very concept of "light."

"Mages, wizards, cast your spells!"

The commander shouted urgent orders through his communication channels. The sudden change was too rapid; he could not fathom what was happening.

But in such a situation, relying on knights was futile. He could only command the formal mages and wizards in his ranks to use their experience to break the predicament.

Yet, to his horror, he realized he could not make a sound. He could not even hear his own desperate roar. Or was it that he had failed to speak, or had he already lost the ability to hear anything at all!?

Unbeknownst to him, his vision was now nothing but pure blackness. He could not see his own fingers, let alone the subordinates and allies standing inches away. The constant sound of marching feet had vanished into a dead, absolute silence, save for a buzzing white noise—and even that was fading from his perception.

He reached out in a panic, trying to touch something, but touch—one of the five senses—had been stripped away. Where his guards should have been, he felt only empty air.

As the last of the white noise vanished, the world disappeared from his perception, leaving only emptiness and silence. When everything but himself became blurred, his own existence began to dissolve. An indescribable sensation took hold, and his consciousness grew increasingly chaotic.

Watching the Tree of the Night Sky unleash its power, creating a pitch-black domain that covered half the plain and engulfed the entire Losman army, Wang Yu marveled at the power of the Lady of the Night.

Among the gods, he estimated her strength to be mid-tier. But she was the only deity who could bombard the material world so casually, without any restraint. Even if her power had little to do with the concept of "destruction," it became terrifyingly potent when applied with sufficient magnitude.

The divine art Wang Yu was using—or rather, the one Avia was calling upon through the Tree of the Night Sky from within the void—was called "Banishment." In terms of level, it was comparable to the power Edward had once used to summon the descent of the God of Light, though it lacked that same raw destructive force.

And so, Wang Yu would simply have to make up for the lack of destruction himself.

"All ammunition loaded. Fire."

The command was issued, reaching the "Archangel" high in the heavens. The air-to-ground orbital strike entered its charging phase. Ten seconds later, destruction from the firmament descended upon the Losman army, trapped within the "Banishment" and stripped of all five senses.

Wang Yu watched it all with indifference, waiting for the aftermath of the blast. He had nothing to say; these people had brought it upon themselves. He had warned them once, and since they refused to listen, so be it.

...

On the Northern Frontier, on the snowfields outside Winter City, Edward stood tall. Behind him were Uller and his other trusted confidants. He had donned the Lion Armor, identical to his father’s.

This was the armor worn only by the legitimate heir of the North. It meant that with Grand Duke Leon departing for the Western Frontier, Edward was now the leader of Winter City.

He gazed at the distant snowfields. Beyond the blizzard, which had thinned enough to see through, lay the enemy forces of the Sarypen Empire: iron cavalry, mage arrays, wizard squads...

Everything Seowintan once possessed, the Sarypen army had, and they also possessed the combat power that Seowintan could never reach.

The enemy forces were no longer lingering at the border. Without hesitation, they began to press into Alastair’s territory. The cluster spells released by their mages cleared the thick snow that hindered their advance, and the iron cavalry surged forward with unstoppable momentum.

"The Sarypen Empire is determined to invade Alastair. What could they possibly want from our kingdom? Intelligence suggests that the army they have deployed is the most powerful among the four invading forces."

Uller watched the enemy approaching Winter City, his voice strained. He spoke to Edward, who stood at the front. Even though he knew this future Grand Duke—his superior and dear friend—had a plan, as a soldier, he could not help but compare their strengths. The result was, predictably, an unimaginable disparity.

Winter City was practically undefended. The Lionheart King had taken all the troops to the West, leaving only a few city guards to maintain basic order. Against the Sarypen army, a single sword would likely be enough for the enemy to slaughter everyone here.

The scale of the Sarypen army was simply too far beyond the norm. It was hard to understand why they would launch a war of this magnitude without any prior conflict.

"It is unclear for now, but according to Xia Er’s speculation, it is likely the ancient ruins of the St. Anna Snowfield. The Sarypen army is indeed the strongest of the four, but they are likely the ones who least want to face what is coming next."

Edward spoke calmly, his voice tinged with a hint of irony—he was, of course, pitying the Sarypen army—as he looked up toward the heavens.

Uller naturally followed his gaze, and his eyes widened in shock. He had considered many possibilities, but never this.

That was... a dragon? And a whole group of them!?

"Are those... dragons?"

"What?"

"Whoosh!"

"Watch out!"

"Counterattack!"

The Sarypen army also looked toward the sky at that moment. A massive spatial rift had been torn open, and from within it, silver dragons soared out. Their elegant forms traced a lethal curve, and a colossal silver blade descended with unimaginable speed, crashing down upon the Sarypen army below.

Even those who reacted after a moment of stunned silence were far too late. An attack unleashed by Aeryrian was not something the armies of ordinary human kingdoms could withstand.

The silver greatsword swept through the ranks. Along its edge, countless bodies were cleaved in half, falling limply to the ground. In the path of the strike, great knights, high wizards, and archmages were no different from ordinary, powerless men; they were utterly erased from the world, leaving no trace of their existence.

And this was only the beginning. From within the spatial rift torn open by Aeryrian, the White Dragon, Mistrix, the only living patriarch of the dragon race, followed closely behind.

He drew in a comfortable breath, savoring the frigid air of the Santa Ana snowfields, for this kingdom would likely serve as the first foothold for dragons upon the continent.

Then, the innate magical circuits of the dragon began to pulse, and his natural affinity as a white dragon rendered the surrounding ice elements as docile as any house pet.

The lingering frost, gathered here from the ruins of a bygone age, surged toward him, manifesting as a tempest of ice and snow that bridged the heavens and the earth.

Within this blizzard, anchored by the white dragon, countless shards of solid ice were forged and sculpted, raining down like meteors upon the Sariben army below.

"It seems I was not mistaken; no creature on this continent would ever wish to face such dragons," he mused. "The notion that other sapient races would never have risen to dominance had the dragons not vanished—that, truly, is an indisputable fact."

Edward spoke with genuine sincerity, witnessing the combat prowess of the dragon race head-on for the first time; despite his preparations, he had not imagined it would be so grotesquely overwhelming.

Under the gaze of the Winter City folk and the myriad dragons who had crossed the spatial rift, a glacier, vast as a mountain itself, descended to crush the Sariben host.