Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 694 - 693: Chance and Necessity

The cold wind grew even more piercing, the fluttering flag clapping against the metal flagpole, producing a sound akin to thunder. The soldiers within the fortress were quickly mobilized under urgent orders to take up positions along the walls, sentry towers, and bunkers. A Knight clad in a deep blue short cloak ran along the entire stretch of the city wall, holding high a lance adorned with a narrow Swallowtail Flag, shouting commands as he passed. Under the increasingly dim sky, the magic symbols in the gaps of the Knight’s armor traced a streak of light along the wall.

Maryland withdrew his gaze from the wall and turned to his long-time deputy, "Payne, how long before the Typhon forces reach the Palamere Highlands?"

"Within two hours," the deputy immediately replied, "if the rain doesn’t start before then."

"Two hours..." Maryland frowned, "Did the scouts clearly see the specific flag and size of that Knight corps?"

"The clouds and the enemy’s Gryphon Knights are causing visual interference; it’s hard to determine their exact numbers, but it’s confirmed they aren’t the Iron River Knights or the Black Steel Knights."

"Not the Iron River Knights and the Black Steel Knights?" Maryland froze for a moment, a thoughtful expression suddenly appearing on his face.

The deputy displayed a trace of confusion, "Yes, General—did something occur to you?"

"...The other side still retains a final hint of caution, sending out a regular unit of the Winterwolf Legion... perhaps this might instead become our opportunity." Maryland looked at the sky outside, his expression grave, his thoughts turning swiftly.

"They’re probably trying to first probe the situation with a regular Knight corps, keeping the Iron River Knights or the Black Steel Knights on standby in the plains... those two Knight corps have legion-level charge combat skills. Once they accumulate sufficient power in the plains, they can destroy city-level barriers in a short time... Longwind Fortress’s Great Shield might withstand it, but it would likely be a struggle.

"If the enemy’s commander judges that we don’t have enough soldiers on our defensive line, they’ll likely quickly determine that Longwind Fortress also doesn’t have enough defenders. At that point, the Iron River Knights will launch a charge, and even if they can’t destroy the Great Shield of Longwind Fortress in one go, it would be enough to heavily damage us. More importantly, they would then enter close proximity to Longwind Fortress, where the Iron Throne cannot provide bombing support.

"It’s very cautious, their tactics are flawless, but there’ll be a critical time difference...

"Where is Iron Throne-Zero now?!"

The deputy thought for a moment, "Last communication indicated it was entering Kalong Valley."

"Can they increase speed?"

The deputy frowned, "It might put a heavy burden on the power spine... it would likely require some adjustments and repairs afterward."

"No problem, it can stay calmly on the Palamere Highlands for a while afterwards, without having to be like last time, leading an enraged god across the entire plain. The Mage Technicians will have time to slowly fix it," Maryland quickly said. "Send a message to General Philip, ask him to speed up a bit... as long as the Iron Throne arrives in time, the Typhon forces will be of no threat."

"Yes, General!" the deputy responded loudly.

Maryland took a deep breath, the cold, impending autumn wind and rain blowing in through the window, carrying with it the scent of damp earth. He softly muttered to himself, "Let it rain..."

It seemed like rain was about to fall, yet it also seemed tangled within the clouds, as the deep, dark armored front of the Iron Throne sliced through the moist air, crossing the border of the last province in the Eastern Border. Trees and rocks flanked the tracks, rapidly retreating past the windows, and with the cold wind came the urgent communication from Longwind Fortress.

"The Typhon forces have begun advancing, Longwind Fortress’s situation is critical."

Philip strode to the central control deck of the Iron Throne, asking the Technical Sergeant operating the main power spine, "Can the speed be increased?"

"It’s already at maximum, General," the Technical Sergeant replied loudly, "the power spine is at full load, all thrust units have been activated."

"We need to be faster," Philip said gravely. "I authorize you to overload the main power spine—also, divert all shield energy to the propulsion units."

A turning point was approaching, Philip vaguely sensed its arrival.

This turning point was whether the Typhon legions’ charge would reach the front line first or the Iron Throne’s bombardment.

In this era, fortress siege and defense in conventional warfare was a slow and prolonged affair, often requiring years upon years of siege to determine the fate of a fortress. This was the norm in nearly all the aristocratic wars within Old Anzu. However, the veterans of the Eastern Border who remained in the fortresses warned that Typhon’s Empire Corps had already changed these rules of warfare—

The Typhon regarded Transcendents as professional soldiers, even training children with inherent talent from six years old. These mass-produced Transcendents had poor talent, perhaps even unqualified to be Mage apprentices in the eyes of traditional Mages, but Typhon gathered them, had them master one or two abilities over years of consistent training, and eventually built a special Empire Corps—soldiers who might only know a single skill, could only charge like Knights or cast a lightning bolt, but in their thousands and ten thousands, a terrifying force known as "legion-level spells" was born.

By eliminating the Transcendents’ unnecessary "pride" and the shackles of old "orthodox schools," these soldiers or combat Mages, purpose-built for war, could exert power on the battlefield comparable to the Cecil Mage Corps. Once aggregated, their force could decide the outcome of a fortress siege and defense struggle in a short time.

Typhon’s crucial reform of the past decade, due to the growth cycle of mass-produced Transcendents, saw the formation of several elite Knight Corps and Mage Corps only in recent years. During the first encounter years ago, the Eastern Border Corps almost suffered a major defeat—had it not been for Typhon’s lack of proficiency with legion-level spells at the time, and Duke Silas Loland’s timely response, Longwind Fortress might have already fallen.

But back then, the Anzu Kingdom was still indulged in its revelries, stuck in a false and decadent peace—lagging an entire era behind, neither the crisis at the Eastern Border nor the cannon fire from the southern borders was enough to wake it.

Now Typhon has regrouped its Empire Corps, presumably remedying the flaws and gaps exposed in their past engagement, yet the once Anzu Kingdom has also been reborn—the nascent Empire Corps, perhaps inexperienced, but given enough time, Longwind Fortress can hold.

If Longwind Fortress loses its combat power first under the blow of Typhon’s legion-level spell, then even if the Iron Throne arrives at Palamere Highlands, it alone cannot endure. But if the Iron Throne reaches the bombardment position first, the unprepared Typhon Empire Corps will suffer heavy blows.

Entangled for so long, the turning point for these two countries has been compressed into the next few hours.

The Technical Sergeant reached into a hidden mechanism beneath the control panel, turning a key which caused a locked cover on the panel to pop open with a "clack."

A prominent large red button was revealed in the recess under the cover, bearing only a few words: Full System Overload.

The large red button was slammed down, and after an extremely short delay, the entire train trembled, all its mechanical parts letting out a low growl, the hum of all magic units becoming loudly resonant.

The armor panels beneath the sides of the Iron Throne opened with a series of fissures propelled by the mechanical structure, a dim red light emerged within the cracks, and the heat generated by the overload of the power spine distorted the air around the train. Emergency coolant water was injected into the grooves between the power spine and the mechanical devices, and large plumes of hot steam roared out along the tracks as the immense body of Iron Throne-Zero accelerated once again through the steam, rushing toward the Eastern Border...

The wind grew stronger, and the damp, cold air flapped the Swallowtail Flag in the hands of the pioneering knight. Even with the effects of Wind Shield or aura protection blocking the cold wind around, the incessant howling of the wind was enough to make one feel irritable.

Andresha looked up at the sky, then at the Palamere Highlands now in sight, leading the team forward in silence.

A very slight sound came from the helmet, accompanied by a subtle "tapping."

Andresha reached out her hand to see a droplet bloom on the surface of her gauntlet, instantly darkening her expression and eyes.

"It’s raining, General."

The adjutant said softly beside her.

"I see it..."

Andresha said sullenly, as more and more raindrops formed lines of rain, growing denser within her view.

The gods seemed to be siding with the Cecil Clan.

But Andresha merely expressionlessly raised her Longsword and swung it forward: "Keep advancing!"

The rain would slow the pioneering knights’ progress, even though they were the Empire’s elite, even though transcendents could largely ignore weather impacts, this "sluggishness" still existed, the only difference being the degree.

The Winterwolf Legion’s first knight regiment advanced silently in the rain, all soldiers faithfully executing the commander’s orders. The Gryphon Knights circling in the air lowered their altitude as much as possible to provide effective vision and early warning for the ground forces. But as the rain grew heavier, the surrounding light dimmer, and lightning brewed in the dense clouds, the Gryphon Knights continued to lower their altitude until they were almost hovering just above the knights’ heads.

This journey continued for a time, and when Andresha began to doubt the existence of the Cecil Clan, she suddenly heard a resounding and penetrating cry from the Gryphons above—

A flash of light appeared on the distant highland.

"Defense!"

Andresha shouted loudly at the first moment, and almost simultaneously, all the knights drew their Longswords, which shimmered with Magic Power. Pale white rings expanded and quickly formed a barrier over the team—after a moment’s delay, a weapon imperceptible to the naked eye fell upon that shield.

A thunderous crash echoed, the weapon of Cecil Clan’s manufactured a powerful explosion, causing some knights to stir slightly, but that solid shield remained unmoved.

Andresha tightened her grip on the Longsword, her knight protective aura surging, ready to guide the legion-level spells to confront the enemy, but the relentless bombardment mentioned in the intelligence did not arrive.

"Maintain a defensive stance and continue advancing!"

The pioneering knights held their swords, advancing silently at the commander’s order, and a moment later, that attack with accompanying blasts and shrieks came again.

This time, neither Andresha nor her soldiers showed even the slightest hint of hesitation, and the young Wolf General even felt a surge of joy—

She had wagered correctly!

The pace of the pioneering knights’ speed began to quicken, and after the third attack, there was no more movement from the Cecil Clan’s position.

Andresha took the lead, guiding her entire team across the final stretch of terrain to the target position at a trot. Accompanied by the cries of warhorses, the land that had been leveled and fortified appeared in her view.

The Cecil forces stationed on the original position had entirely withdrawn, leaving behind only a deserted platform and a pile of hastily abandoned clutter covered by tarps and bizarre objects.

"This position is fake!" The adjutant shouted loudly, "General, you judged correctly!"

The knights were taken aback, then clamored excitedly. Some began to shout Andresha’s name with admiration and respect, preparing to capture the Cecil Clan’s position and the left-behind supplies—the enemy had evidently withdrawn in a hurry, and the rumored heavy Magical Equipment could not have been entirely taken away. What remained would be precious intelligence for the Typhon Empire.

But Andresha suddenly raised her hand, loudly halting her subordinates’ actions: "Don’t approach yet!"

After halting her subordinates, the female knight dismounted and casually twirled her Longsword, suddenly raising it and swinging it forward—

The surface of the Longsword shimmered with a layer of brilliant light, turning into a powerful shockwave as it swept over the distant pile of clutter.

Deafening explosions instantly expanded from the pile of clutter, detonating along the surrounding trenches and tarp-covered objects.

Andresha didn’t know how many tricks and models existed within the Cecil Clan’s Magical Equipment.

But vigilance for magic traps on the battlefield was a necessary quality for every soldier.

Andresha and her adjutant’s protective aura blocked some of the exploding fragments scattering, while the nearby knights took a slight step back, some with embarrassed expressions on their faces—Andresha merely glanced at them, shaking her head: "Never underestimate the enemy, even if you’re constantly mocking them during drinking and boasting."

After saying this, she casually flicked her Longsword and nodded to the Army Mage beside her: "Signal the Iron River Knights—this farce orchestrated by the Cecil Clan must come to an end."