“There has been no response from Nastro and Linark through their communication devices. They must be busy with Belmo and Warlord Rex.”

For a period of two hours, I and my troops have been journeying through Talik Gorge. Although a considerable time has passed, our journey would conclude shortly. Arago was visible in the distance, along with the nearby Wandering Woodlands. Despite sending a message earlier, I have received no response. The siege had already begun. We must act fast.

When the primary force neared Arago, a spectacle unraveled in front of us. Dense columns of dark smoke rose into the air, mingling with the ominous orange glow of the flames. A gentle breeze brushed against our tired faces, carrying the scent of burning wood and ash that permeated the air.

A hush fell over our ranks, interrupted solely by the disciplined footsteps of three thousand soldiers and the rhythmic pattern of their breathing. I could sense the weariness etched upon their faces, mirroring the exhaustion that gnawed at their bones. Our inadequate food supplies had depleted earlier that morning, resulting in half-filled stomachs and a growing appetite that reflected in our eyes.

For a fleeting moment, I contemplated sending out a small platoon in search of sustenance. However, the reality of our situation soon became apparent. The surrounding land offered little in terms of resources, and any foraging attempts would only serve to deplete our energy reserves further. With a heavy heart, I prioritized our strength and focus on the imminent battle that awaited us within the city walls.

We could not afford to be weakened by the pangs of hunger. We would need every ounce of our energy and resolve in the coming hours. The survival of our troops, the success of our mission, hinged upon our ability to endure and overcome the challenges that lay before us.

As the flames continued to dance and the smoke continued to rise, a collective resolve took hold of our ranks. We were warriors, hardened by countless battles, and forged in the crucible of adversity. The hunger in our bellies would be eclipsed by the fire in our hearts, fueling our relentless pursuit of victory. If we were to fall from simple hunger, then the deities would surely forsake us more. Xalan was probably watching us from on top of Arago’s walls, awaiting our arrival.

While my demon horse and I charged ahead, the remaining officers and soldiers maintained their position at the moat's border. With a synchronized movement, they raised their shields, forming an impenetrable barrier against any arrows or projectiles that may be aimed their way.

Undeterred by the archers stationed atop the walls, I focused on the task at hand. Their arrows whizzed through the air, their strings pulled taut, aiming to hinder our advance. However, their efforts were in vain as my demon horse effortlessly scaled the walls, defying gravity with its otherworldly agility.

Leaping off the back of the horse, I rolled across the parapet, evading the desperate strikes of my adversaries. I wielded my weapon, cutting through my foes like a scythe through wheat. Their resistance was futile against my relentless onslaught. My eyes honed in on the mechanism that controlled the drawbridge. A rusty lever, connected by sturdy chains, hung precariously near the edge of the parapet. Without hesitation, I delivered a powerful kick, sending the lever into motion. The sound of metal grinding against metal filled the air as the drawbridge descended with a resounding thud.

A whistle of excitement erupted from our ranks as my men realized the path to the heart of Arago was now open. With renewed vigor, they advanced across the lowered bridge, their footsteps marking the beginning of our conquest. The defenders of Arago could only watch in disbelief as our forces surged forward, their resolve unyielding. I dispatched the remaining archers with ease. When cleaning the blood off of my blade, I turned around and witnessed a bizarre sight.

“What’s this now? Was the information I received incorrect?”

As I observed the desolate village below, my brows furrowed with a mix of confusion and suspicion. According to the intelligence provided by Linark, this sector, designated as sector F, was supposed to have minimal enemy presence. It was meant to be an advantageous entry point for our forces, allowing us to gain a foothold within Arago with relative ease.

However, the sight before me contradicted our expectations. Rows of Arago soldiers stood waiting, their weapons at the ready. The absence of any signs of life in the village except for our own forces and those of Warlord Rex raised questions in my mind. Had our plans been compromised? Could there have been a leak of information?

I quickly dismissed the possibility of our communication devices being bugged or intercepted. We had taken all the necessary precautions to ensure the security of our messages. It seemed unlikely that a third party had obtained access to our plans.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

The only plausible explanation was that Warlord Rex had made an astute strategic decision to reinforce this sector, anticipating our arrival. It surprised me that he would send his troops to the land of the Albaniqe. It showed that Warlord Rex had recognized the significance of this sector and was willing to take risks to defend it. While the unexpected resistance presented a challenge, it also signaled that our conquest of Arago would not be as straightforward as we had initially expected. We would need to adapt our tactics and approach with caution.

During my little pondering, the soldiers beneath me had begun their battle. Both sides screamed at the top of their lungs as clinking metal and gurgles exploded. The repeated onslaughts collided and blended together into a tangled heap of metal and exertion, locked in an intense battle illuminated by moonlight. My officers took the forefront and fought through the soldiers alongside their brethren. Thankfully, the main force had the number’s advantage. There were at least half of Arago’s soldiers compared to mine. While there was a wrench in our plans, we still succeeded in breaking through almost discreetly. Most of their forces must be northeast, as Linark mentioned.

“If they’re northeast, then so would Belmo and Warlord Rex. In order to bring an end to this siege once and for all, it is imperative that the leader of the group be eliminated. I can leave things to Grindo and Asaun. They are aware of the blood ritual, and so are Linark and Nastro.”

Having devised a sound plan, it is now time for its implementation. Since they designed Arago in a hexagon, travelling to the other sectors was simple.

Filling a bundle of strength into my legs, I carried my armored self along the walls, sprinting as I watched the scene below me. The citizens had taken refuge in two key locations, either their homes or the barracks stationed in each sector. I noticed a fresh wave of soldiers marching through one sector, and then splitting their forces northwest and southeast. In a matter of minutes, I reached my destination. Just as the battle in sector F, sector A and B were in a heated confrontation. I caught sight of Nastro engaged in a fierce duel with a one-eyed man, their blades meeting with a resounding clash. Peering closer, I sensed a wave of Qi emanating from both of them.

Belmo’s reputation as a First-Rank warrior was well known, and his skills in both Qi and swordsmanship were formidable. His age and experience as a commander had honed his abilities, making him a potent adversary on the battlefield. While he may have still had room for growth compared to higher-ranked warriors, he posed a significant challenge.

On the other hand, my officers, Linark and Nastro, were also skilled warriors in their own right. Despite their younger age, they possessed exceptional talent and potential. Their natural abilities were recognized by martial arts clans in the north who sought to recruit them. However, they had aligned themselves with me, recognizing that their talents could be best utilized in our shared cause.

The bonds formed between those who share the same beliefs and goals can be strong. Linark and Nastro had chosen to stand by my side, believing in the path we were taking to liberate the Demon Continent of the Marauders and those who followed their faith. Their dedication and loyalty were assets that extended beyond their martial prowess.

I knew Nastro had things under control and continued my trek. I changed my course and ran swiftly alongside a wall that led me to the central area where the black palace of Warlord Rex was situated. Ahead of me stood several more archers, all engaged in shooting their enemies below and unaware of my arrival. With one leap, I sliced through their bodies, causing their blood to splatter against the walls.

“Be one with the blood ritual. That is all you will be good for anyway, scum.”

Despite encountering insignificant obstacles, I remained determined to achieve my goal of locating Warlord Rex. Knowing him, he would be dealing with Linark personally if Nastro was with Belmo. The only plausible location for the Warlord is sector A. It would be unbecoming for him to seclude himself in his palace while his city is being attacked. He highly values this place, almost as though his own life were at stake. I can only give him some respect in that regard.

“I’ll have to pinpoint their location first.”

Using Qi, I am able to further increase the effectiveness of my five senses. A translucent red aura lingered around my head as I activated the energy. The clamoring of steel and the resounding shouts of men had almost ruptured my eardrums. My vision transformed, resembling that of a horned owl, capable of piercing through the chaos and capturing even the tiniest details. I bent low, coiled my muscles, and leaped upwards, my head swiveling around with acute precision. The world around me seemed to slow as I absorbed the scene, spotting the glimmer of gold armor in an open courtyard.

I witnessed a fierce confrontation unfolding before me. A solitary figure engaged the warrior clad in golden armor, their weapons clashing with such force that sparks erupted between them, painting the air with a shower of yellow and red brilliance. The warrior in gold exerted relentless pressure, steadily driving their opponent backward.

“…That must be them. Who else would wear such unsightly armor?”

I effortlessly landed back down on Earthiens, my armor groaning under the pressure. At the moment I was about to charge towards the men, a mysterious shadow flickered above the ominous black palace of Warlord Rex. Bathed in the moonlight and aided by my heightened vision, I discerned the subtle movement, puzzled by an unknown figure.

I realized this enigmatic silhouette could only belong to one person—Xalan. Who else would dare to observe the chaos and carnage unfolding below? She must be growing restless, her patience waning as she monitored the progress of the battle.

“Do not worry, oh great deity. I will end this.”

Not wanting to anger her further, I bounded with great haste for Warlord Rex.