In Dragon Valley, many winding and treacherous walkways were carved into the steep cliffs on both sides of the narrow pass.
Endless gales swept through the narrow mouth of the valley, producing a continuous and piercing "Dragon Roar."
This natural turbulent airflow was enough to block flying units without sufficient power, while the defenders stationed atop the walkways could deliver deadly firepower suppression to the only passageway below, making it a simple yet practical defense design.
On a relatively wide walkway, Lorenzo was carefully inserting a slender silver needle into Alama’s exposed arm.
When the needle was withdrawn, it brought out a trace of blood.
He skillfully cast several Detection Spells, watching as the weak magical glow flickered briefly on the blood sample before extinguishing.
"Fortunately, the blood poison’s erosion isn’t too deep, and it has been completely cleared." Lorenzo put away his tools, though his tone was not relaxed, "But... your current physical condition..."
"I know my own body." Alama said, standing up from his seat.
His complexion was unnaturally pale, eerily similar to those of the Vampires, which was one of the residual effects of the blood poison.
Lorenzo hesitated before voicing what he’d held back for a while: "Have you really not considered my suggestion to retreat back to Oath City?"
Alama walked slowly to the edge of the walkway, resting his hand on the rough wooden railing, looking down at the soldiers who were still busy reinforcing the fortifications below: "Abandon these subordinates who have fought alongside until now, and flee over the mountains like a coward? That behavior is usually called desertion."
Lorenzo wasn’t upset at being called a deserter and continued, "But with your current condition, plus the state of the army, we simply can’t hold out. The Demon Race’s troll units have arrived, and the pass will be breached in two days at the latest. If both of us die here, then the United Kingdom... truly has no hope."
"Even if a commander who runs away survives, they cannot rally the people again; it will only end in a worse defeat next ti. Drag out another day here, perhaps there’s still a sliver of chance for Elvyn over there..."
Lorenzo’s plan was to take the warriors of Gold Level power and above and escape over the cliffs.
But if Alama wanted to escape, he wouldn’t have withdrawn into Dragon Valley at the start. He intended to use his life to slow Sigmund’s advance, even if the few days they gain might be aningless.
Seeing this, Lorenzo sighed heavily, like a deflated ball, casually finding a flat stone to sit on, no longer persuading.
Alama glanced at him: "Aren’t you leaving?"
The question made Lorenzo laugh angrily: "Leave? You’ve already said it’s all over, why should I leave?! Alama, you old bastard! Usually reckless and impulsive, but getting sharp just when death is at hand, trying to use my backbone to secure your posthumous reputation? Dream on!"
Alama looked at his old partner, who had been tirelessly procuring supplies for him for decades, never allowing High Castle Fortress to fall into shortages. A rare, genuine smile tugged at his usually stern and rigid face.
Then, he turned his gaze again in the direction of the assembling Demon Race army outside the valley, muttering to himself with so confusion: "After shouting for so long and still not attacking... what trick is Sigmund up to this ti?"
...
Outside Dragon Valley.
Sigmund’s eyes glowed crimson as he shared vision with a bat-shaped Servant Demon high in the sky, observing the strange team reported by his subordinates.
It was indeed too strange.
A large number of Storm Elental Spirits were leaving the Elental Disorder Zone, heading this way.
Following behind were thousands of human soldiers and a vast sea of unknown Puki.
Never mind the Puki; even though Sigmund’s front lines had not encountered them, the shared intelligence did ntion humans’ new profession, the "Puki Master."
These Puki looked nurous but were actually not to be feared. When numbers are comparable, his army could completely crush them.
The real problem was...
"Since when did humans have the ans to command Storm Elental Spirits?"
Controlling a single Elental Spirit wasn’t difficult; mages on the Demon Race side could also manage that.
But several thousand Storm Elental Spirits... had they driven all the Elental Spirits from that region?
For the mont, it was unclear who was commanding them.
Even though this team didn’t have many humans, the fact that humans could still muster such reinforcents at this ti did surprise Sigmund.
Who could be the commander?
"Hey," a voice in his mind chid in at an inopportune ti, "do you think you can win?"
Responding to his roommate’s routine "concern," Sigmund replied dismissively, "Just a rabble."
"Oh... a rabble, huh..."
As usual, after asking, his roommate fell silent.
Having confird the composition of the attacking forces with his own eyes, Sigmund imdiately started making deploynts.
He first ordered Virelis to lead her troops to tightly guard the valley entrance, preventing Alama from breaking through and creating chaos. He then quickly issued a series of commands, adeptly deploying the main army’s front lines to confront this overconfident force.
The primary concern, naturally, was those Storm Elental Spirits.
These enemies, highly resistant to physical attacks, would be extrely troubleso once they ford a scale.
Fortunately, his army was a well-structured force, naturally not lacking in spellcaster units.
Moreover, those Elental Spirits were clearly unwell after leaving the Disorder Zone; the winds were sluggish, the lightning subdued, and how much combat strength they retained was questionable.
So, although it seed troubleso, it was only just that—troubleso.
When that allied army finally appeared on the horizon, regardless of their combat strength, the visual impact of those flashing and thundering storm elents and the vast white sea of Puki was indeed strong. A number of Demon Race soldiers instinctively swallowed and gripped their weapons tightly.
With the two armies facing off, Sigmund was just about to send out vanguards to probe, but unexpectedly, the ostensibly weaker side took the initiative!
Amid the front-line troops surrounded by Storm Elentals, an orange-yellow orb suddenly shot out, streaking across the night sky, crossing the gap between the two armies, and only losing montum above the Demon Race’s formation, where it hung and swayed before slowly falling.
"Lighting Technique?" Sigmund suspiciously watched the orb, puzzled.
Even if they wanted to illuminate the battlefield, they should at least use a Fourth-Tier Daylight Spell, right? How much vision could a Lighting Technique provide?
Just as he was wondering, the roaring sounds of wind and thunder abruptly grew louder on the other side!
The violent winds surged, lightning spilled forth, and those Storm Elentals transford their previous weakened state, suddenly charging toward them like a frenzied swarm!
No ti to be surprised, Sigmund issued his orders almost imdiately: "Send orders! The third and fourth battalions advance, all mage formations prepare to provide support!" (Next Chapter 5... or before three o’clock)
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