Chapter 448: Four Sides Retreating Together, Shaking the Continent

"Boom!"

A colossal glacier crashed into the Saribun Empire’s battle formation, engulfing nearly the entire host of soldiers. The massive mountain of ice, radiating a bone-chilling frost, possessed no inherent magical power, yet its sheer volume and weight were sufficient to unleash a devastation beyond imagination.

Shattering upon impact, the icy monolith disintegrated into countless jagged shards that plummeted to the earth. They plowed into the snow, sliding forward to crush those Saribun soldiers who had escaped the initial strike. In an instant, the Saribun army found itself stripped of any option save for frantic evasion and defense.

A vast, semicircular barrier of magical energy shimmered above the troops—a shield forged by the collective efforts of the army’s mages and sorcerers. It had withstood the glacier’s primary collision, but now it was webbed with cracks, and the casters who sustained it suffered the agonizing backlash of their own fractured spells.

"How can this be? Why have dragons appeared in Alestler, and in such numbers? Should they not have vanished from the continent long ago? Why do they launch an assault upon us now?"

A soldier’s voice rose in disbelief, a question cast into the void. Their forces had been calculated to easily crush Alestler’s border defenses, but these dragons, descending from the Dragon Isles, had utterly shattered their plans.

"Retreat! Find a way to retreat! This is an enemy beyond our capacity to face. Use the artifact! Restore the mages and sorcerers, and pull the army back. This battle is unwinnable; the dragons we face are mere commoners among their kind, yet they possess the power of legends. We have no hope of victory!"

Under the dual protection of wizards and mages, the commander barked desperate orders. There was no reason to continue this slaughter; to linger was to invite nothing but annihilation.

A massive ring of light erupted within the Saribun ranks, casting a verdant glow that washed over the army with potent restorative power. It mended the soldiers’ shattered armor, repaired the fissured magical shield above, and soothed the physical exhaustion of the knights and the mana-depletion of the mages.

"A strategic-grade artifact, the Staff of Redemption. I never imagined Saribun would bring such a treasure. It seems their obsession with these ancient ruins has reached an absurd degree."

Edward watched the glowing ring with a cynical smile. A strategic-grade artifact—the Staff of Redemption. Once per day, it provided a massive area of restoration, mending not only flesh but also broken armaments.

On the battlefield, this was tantamount to returning a desperate army to its peak state, or turning wounded men from a burden back into a fighting force. Its strategic value was self-evident; that they had brought it here spoke volumes of Saribun’s resolve.

Yet, it was a pity. Their resolve would not grant the Saribun army the slightest chance against this legion of dragons. The moment the glacier shattered and the healing light emerged, the various dragons resumed their assault without a pause.

Searing, gargantuan fireballs, surging arcs of lethal lightning, acid-rain clouds that blotted out the sky, wind spirals that severed all they touched, and tectonic ruptures that tore the earth asunder...

The dragons’ onslaught poured down, falling without mercy upon the Saribun ranks that had only just regained their footing. Escape? Resistance? There was no such thing.

Wailing as they were extinguished in the turbulent storm of energy, the Saribun soldiers fell like withered grass. The army that had arrived with such thunderous momentum now scrambled like stray dogs, struggling to flee. The transformation was enough to stir the soul.

"Shall we hold back?"

Aerilian’s voice drifted to Edward’s ears.

"The primary goal this time is deterrence. Since they have already invaded Alestler, I see no reason to let them leave alive. To slaughter the invaders with such ruthless efficiency will provide more than enough warning to the surrounding kingdoms."

"Of course, I have neither the intent nor the authority to command you. All is at your discretion; after all, it is not Alestler’s own strength that secured your aid."

Edward replied with practiced courtesy. While watching the dragons unleash such overwhelming power to crush the invaders in a heartbeat was satisfying, he knew well that these dragons were not "Alestler’s" power. One could rely on them, but one must never mistake their status or become overly dependent.

"This is the human kingdom my brother loves most, and you are a dear friend of my companion. There is no need for such formality. We dragons shall be Alestler’s allies."

With Aerilian’s answer, knowing Edward’s mind, there was no need to hold back any longer. The airspace where the dragons beat their wings rippled with a sudden magical disturbance. Every dragon pushed their power to its zenith, and in an instant, a cataclysmic torrent of destruction completely submerged the Saribun army.

The Saribun forces that had invaded Alestler were wiped out to the last man. Where the army had stood, only a scarred, cratered wasteland remained. The snow that had accumulated over years was melted by the heat of the turbulent energy, leaving behind steaming, white-fuming thermal pits.

"Such heavy losses should be enough to test the resolve of the surrounding kingdoms. Are their entire nations truly shackled and their wills twisted, or are they, like Seowentan or Alestler once was, forcibly driven by those who sit upon their thrones? Do you dare to defy the opposition of all and force another war with Alestler?"

On the battlefield where the enemy had been annihilated, Edward picked up the Staff of Redemption from a boiling puddle. He muttered to himself, watching the Saribun scouts flee beyond the border—an intelligence unit that had not entered Alestler with the main force. Edward needed them to carry the intelligence back to the Saribun Empire.

"Whatever the case, this friendship has brought Alestler so much. A hard-won fortune; truly, it is rare indeed."

Shaking his head with a faint smile, Edward turned back toward Winter City, where the dragons were descending in human form. He prayed that reports of victory from Alestler’s other borders had already arrived, for as the "Grand Duke of the North," he had guests from afar to entertain.

...

At Alestler’s western border, the army from the Kingdom of Visconti looked at the Alestler forces blocking their path, caught in a dilemma.

According to intelligence, Alestler’s national strength was not supposed to be this formidable. While it was standard to station garrisons at a kingdom’s border, this level of fortification for a nation that had three other borders to defend seemed, perhaps, a bit too exaggerated.

The western road, flanked by low hills, was now packed with Alestler’s troops. Beyond the common mages and knights, the existing walls were densely lined with magi-tech cannons, and the surrounding hills were blanketed with iron cavalry and mage arrays.

The Visconti soldiers did not doubt that if they attempted to force their way through, few of them would survive, and they would likely fail to shake such an impregnable defense.

These soldiers could not have imagined that their commander was even more shattered than they were. He recognized the four figures standing before the Alestler lines—the four legendary generals of the enemy.

"The Four Grand Dukes, four legends... Has Alestler gone mad?! Do they care nothing for their other borders? To concentrate their entire force against us, this is madness. Could it be..."

His thoughts were a chaotic mess. The situation defied all logic; he could not fathom the meaning behind Alestler’s bizarre strategic deployment.

For a moment, a thought broke him into a cold sweat: Alestler, realizing it could not survive the siege of four nations, had chosen to break out from the west, leading their entire army into the relatively weak Kingdom of Visconti to seek revenge or seize control to stage a comeback.

A deathly silence fell over the Visconti army. To advance was to face an unbreakable wall of iron; to retreat was to face the ruthless military law of their own kingdom. They had never possessed the power of choice...

...

In the kingdom’s south, a massive wall of golden light stood upon the main road. Fang Stuart, holding the Holy Scripture of Light, stood atop the giant sacred barrier he had created alongside the Church of Light’s clergy. Bare-chested, revealing a powerful physique, he watched the invaders from the southern Zelun Empire below with a faint smile.

"To invade another kingdom is an evil act that the Church of Light cannot ignore. I ask you all to consider carefully: will you turn back here, or will you go to war with us?"

His voice rang out, declaring his stance and his purpose. The renown of the Church of Light, combined with the order of Paladins in heavy sacred armor standing behind the barrier, and the Word-Priests coordinating with them, exerted immense pressure upon the Zelun Empire’s forces.

With grim faces, the commanders of the Zelun Empire faced the same dilemma as the Visconti army. If they had any choice, they would never want to face those hulking Paladins of the Church of Light.

Even without the power of the Light, these men were the continent’s elite. With priests at their side and the God of Light—who truly manifested—above, the Church’s Paladin order was a terrifying force that any powerful kingdom would fear to provoke.

To wage war against the Church of Light, or to defy the already inexplicable military orders? Which should they choose?

Regardless of the outcome, there was no doubt: Alestler, a human kingdom of little status or fame, had today, through a sudden eruption of power, etched its name across the entire continent.