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At the break of the next day, when the fog was thick and the air damp, the massive gate groaned open, and thousands of Ashbourne soldiers marched onto the field.

Two months of relentless battles had brought an end to almost every grass on the field. Some areas had developed scorched craters, remnants of trebuchet bombardments.

Their armours clinked as they marched. After thousands of infantry and archers had exited the entrance, horses neighed, and Lambert’s cavalry followed in perfect formation.

The next unit after Lambert’s cavalry were the paladins, the most formidable unit composed entirely of sacred-ranked knights!

It was common knowledge that Asher’s generals were all at the sacred rank, except for Sapphira, who stood half a step away from reaching the imperial rank.

In the entire county, only Asher and Sapphira bore the title of Saints.

Clad in his gleaming golden armour, Asher rode at the forefront of the paladins.

Above them, hundreds of Temple Servants soared, led by the Sapphira herself.

This imposing array of Asher’s army made Duke Mormont and Archduke Nubis raise an eyebrow.

From the comfort of their grand castles, both the dukes observed the spectacle through the hovering portal created by a special class of mages known as The Messengers.

Unlike the conventional mages, who mastered offensive and defensive spells, these specialists wielded spatial elements. It allowed them to open portals, transporting them across long distances or even opening more portals.

Unlike other mages, their only focus was to meet the needs of their lords.

These messengers were hidden under cloaking spells, watching the march. Through the portals opened beside them, the dukes could see the Ashbourne troops.

In Mormont castle, Duke Ohad Mormont sat on his throne, his eyes slightly narrowing as he beheld the elite troops advancing across the battlefront and toward the forest.

Seated on the long table below his throne were his two sons and only daughter, along with Mary.

None of them, not even Mary, could believe that such an army had emerged from the wastelands!

On the other hand, Archduke Nubis frowned deeply.

"It’s a good thing that you had Count Wyvern agree to send one of his wyverns," he murmured. "The Count of the wastelands is a shrewd man who has been deceiving other noble houses all this while. To have built an army of this scale… he must have already been planning for war from the start."

Vladimir Nubis, Archduke Nubis’s first son—a cripple, yet sharp in wit—spoke softly, his words dripping with venom. Although despised by his father for being a cripple and living in the shadows of his younger brother, he still had his value.

"As soon as the wyvern appears, this battle will be over."

Archduke Nubis’ declaration carried a chilling finality.

While the dukes watched, Asher’s troops stopped 300 yards away from the forest and swiftly began to set up their formation.

As the Grand Aegis soldiers went into position, the sound of thousands of heavy footsteps, that of men and of horses, fell into their ears.

In no time, barbarians emerged from the forest’s depths, their bodies marked with red, blue and black war markings.

With various tattoos on their bodies and different kinds of weapons, they flooded out of the forest like a tide of ants!

Cain, riding his black tiger, chuckled at the ridiculous sight of his foes. Compared to their barbarian horde, the Ashbourne soldiers seemed pitiful, and what made it even worse was their stupid decision to abandon the safety of their walls.

From where he sat, he could see them standing hundreds of meters away, standing tall with their tower shields and their cloaks billowing in the cold morning air. Cain could only imagine how much of Tiberias’s treasury Asher had drained to equip such an army.

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He ground his teeth.

The growl of a tiger from behind made him turn.

His father, Count Ira, had arrived, riding a massive black tiger with white stripes. Beside him, Enos sat atop a muscular horse, reputed to be the fastest in all of the Wildlands.

"There he is." Count William’s voice was steady, his gaze fixed on Asher and his forces that were far behind the main Ashbourne army.

"Send the word," he ordered. "Release my son Levi, and I will consider sparing your lives—and that of your family. Refuse, and this county will burn."

Without hesitation, Cain sent an envoy. The rider had barely made it towards the Ashbourne army before a crackling arrow, charged with lightning, slit the air.

The shot struck the envoy’s house. The horse collapsed mid-air, and the envoy was sent flying through the air, crashing violently across the ground, leaving a trail of craters in his wake as he slammed across the land a couple of times.

Then, a single command followed.

"Fire!"

The Markswomen and the Goshen archers released their drawn bows, sending armour-piercing arrows soaring into the fog-covered sky.

These arrows, however, were no ordinary projectiles. Some glowed with blue lightning, while others blazed with orange flames as they reached their peak before arching downward only to fall like deadly raindrops.

"Charge!"

Enos roared as his men fell like flies. The explosive impact of the arrows also sent their bodies and debris flying, plunging the battlefield into chaos.

"Kill!"

The barbarians’ horsemen raised their khopesh high.

Rumble!

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They surged forward, kicking up dirt as they thundered towards the Ashbourne soldiers in great numbers.

More volleys of arrows rained down from the sky like an endless storm that reaped lives by the hundreds—both men and their mounts collapsing under the onslaught.

"Nock, lift, aim…"

Paul drew his bow to its limit.

"… Fire!"

Thwack! Thwack!

Their bowstrings snapped while the arrows streaked into the ranks of their enemies, knocking some riders clean off their horses.

Meanwhile, Paul’s three arrows danced across the battlefield, killing nonstop until the arrows were caught midair by a giant barbarian.

They actually got stuck in his tough skin, but he remained standing.

"Here they come! Shields!"

Alec’s shout rang out. The heavy infantry slammed their shields into the ground before aiming their long spears at the incoming cavalry.

"Brace yourselves!"

Standing in the heart of the formation, Alec scanned left and right, ensuring that his men were ready to face the enemy.

"Strengthen your feet, concentrate on your enemies!"

Through the narrow gap in the shield wall, he saw the cavalry upon them. The earth rumbled as if announcing their imminent arrival.

"Our wall does not fall—not to the barbarians! Hold!!!"

His roar was the last thing before the cavalry clashed with the Grand Aegis Heavy infantry.

The ruthless spears of the Grand Aegis Heavy Infantry pierced with ruthless precision the horses and riders alike, filling the air with screams and the scent of blood.