Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 977: Chapter 976: Flashpoint

Fire, smoke, the taste of blood—a mixture of arcane energy scorch and decomposition in the air, where rocks and steel crumbled apart.

Border Camp No. 22 has been leveled to the ground.

The statuesque Black Armored Knights stand amidst the devastated ruins, corpses from both sides of the battle lying intertwined on the battlefield. As the sun rises, a howling cold wind sweeps across the plain, carrying the scent of blood and smoke far away.

Among those Black Armored Knights still able to stand, some armor is already in tatters, exposing the equally ragged bodies underneath—flesh torn apart by scorching blades or beams shivering in the cold wind, edges writhing with abnormal flesh buds and viscous, bizarre growths. This should be a sight terrifying to ordinary humans, yet the knights seem oblivious, standing silently as they await orders.

The leader of the knights, Earl Mogrolok, stands on a stone at the edge of the battlefield, silently contemplating his freshly won victory—in his muddled, tumultuous mind, fragmented memories vaguely whisper that he might have done something terribly frightening, soon overshadowed by wilder thoughts.

He begins mulling over the next battle plan, pondering how to expand upon his victory, simultaneously feeling a slight surprise—surprised by the unexpected casualties caused to the Iron River Knights by this camp. He never imagined that the powerful Iron River Knights would suffer nearly a quarter loss simply to conquer a border outpost, an amount akin to the losses from a frontal assault on a castle guarded by Transcendents, yet those stationed here were merely a group of ordinary people.

This outpost had only a single layer of wall.

This raised a strange feeling in Earl Mogrolok’s heart—even amidst the resonant roars and endless whispers swirling in his mind, he sensed a type of... caution. He somehow knew where this caution came from—it was from the human part of him that "pledged loyalty to Typhon": he saw threats from those ordinary people of strong combat prowess, threats to his own nation.

Yet soon, even these fleeting thoughts vanished, a restlessness rooted deep in his soul urging him, feeling there’s a duty still unfulfilled, a loyalty target that precedes the nation and monarch—a target requiring even greater achievements...

Or lead his troops into a more noble demise.

Earl Mogrolok lifts his head, spotting the Palamere Highlands appearing within his view; he knows there’s an astronomical facility crucial to the Cecil Clan perched on that highland, recently completed according to intelligence, guarded by troops nearby yet unlikely to withstand the remaining forces of the Iron River Knights. Within the facility... lie merely frail researchers along with two or three once-powerful but now aging old Mages...

This should be enough to further provoke the Cecil Clan—and, attacking an academic facility undoubtedly poses far less difficulty than an assault on Longwind Fortress.

He raises his hand, and nearby knights still with strong combat power swiftly rise, as if receiving a telepathic cue, gathering by his side.

After a simple restructuring, the knights of the Iron River Knights reorganize themselves, departing the now worthlessly leveled Border Camp No. 22. They reach a gentle slope; here, Earl Mogrolok clears his throat (constantly wanting to clear his throat as it feels like there’s something moving all the time just there), about to issue the next attack command.

But at this moment, a strange, tooth-grinding hum has suddenly spun forth from an unknown origin, catching the attention of this Typhon noble.

He doesn’t even raise his head, already relying on experience and ingrained reflexes to judge—it’s a magical weapon from the Cecil Clan, commencing attack, and the knights aren’t yet energized, lacking the cohesive barrier necessary for the warriors to withstand the Cecil Clan’s weaponry—after this instant judgment, he immediately orders everyone to scatter and lie low, preparing to evade the subsequent continued bombardment.

Yet, as the knights barely managed to move an inch, a dazzling white beam infused with terrifying Magic Power swept across the sky from afar, where everything instantly vanishes to dust on its passing, rocks and steel abruptly explode or melt, fragile flesh vaporizing instantly, the whole knight squad as if a sandcastle being swept by an overwhelming surge of that deadly white light. Even the "monsters," stripped of rational thought, shriek desperately amidst the frightening white light.

In the rapidly dissipating chaos of Earl Mogrolok’s consciousness, he recalls nothing, thinks nothing, not even having time to lament.

The speed of the Rainbow Cannon is clearly incomparable to ordinary artillery—evading those Reaper-like energy streams is impossible, even for trained knights.

Kilometers away, an armored train draped in thick steel is cruising at a slow pace. At its rear arsenal carriage, the streamlined Rainbow Cannon with a large Focusing Crystal gradually cools, as structures at the carriage’s rear lift to either side through mechanical means, exposing the heat dissipation grids already glowing dark red; with hissing and bursts of steam gushing outward in all directions.

The technology of the Rainbow Cannon has been continually advancing, even the originally troublesome cooling issues have seen breakthroughs after technicians found and unlocked the secrets within a cooling conduit from the Gondor era. Although problems such as the large size of the cooling structures and the extra cooldown required after continuous firing persist, at least now these powerful energy batteries can finally be mounted on land vehicles like the armored train.

In the central tactical section of the train, Maryland stands before the command station, observing through external monitors the position on the slope after the Rainbow Cannon’s beam swept through.

There now resembles hell, but this doesn’t mean all enemies have been obliterated. The Iron River Knights is a formidable army, and those cunning Typhon people presumably wouldn’t let such an elite unit charge at an entire defensive line alone—that’d be sending their trump card to die; plus, without adequate support, a lone knight unit’s combat potential is likely halved.

So there must be a larger-scale operation behind this raid—though uncertain about what nefarious plot Typhon is brewing, to be safe, it’s worth sweeping toward that direction several more times.

Also, hitting a base number around target points possibly hiding or ambush areas with auxiliary cannons.

General Maryland is a cautious man.

The main and auxiliary cannon of Iron Throne - Mundane Python commence free shooting, an ear-splitting roar penetrating the train’s barrier somewhat, echoing deeply within the command center. Amidst these familiar roars, Maryland’s brow furrows tightly.

He can’t fathom why the Typhon people chose to start a war.

But understanding isn’t necessary—the situation here has urgently been communicated to the imperial capital, while forces at Longwind Fortress have completed preparation and assembly per plan. As Iron Throne - Mundane Python wipes out those Iron River knights, the First Legion has prepared for fierce counterattack. The Cecil warriors never relax, everyone is ready for war; now the war has arrived, albeit strangely and suddenly, but since those Typhon people have come... then don’t leave.

Perhaps next, it’s Winterwolf Fortress’s turn to bleed.

...

The Winterwolf Knights halt after crossing the Winterhold Castle boundary, while faster gryphon scouts and several mechanized Mage squads advance further west.

This is Andresha’s arrangement—she must prepare for the worst-case scenario.

If the vanguard catches the Iron River Knights, they can delay, harass, and stall those now out-of-control knights; in the rear, the Winterwolf Knights can seize the opportunity to charge and energize, launching attacks on those knights—they are the only stopgap she could think of after seeing those mutated War God’s clergy. Though conventional knight squads can’t wield high-grade attacks like "Thermal Cone," with numerical advantage and tactical cooperation, Andresha is confident she can intercept Earl Mogrolok and his knights.

But if the vanguard fails to catch the target, if the target has succeeded in executing their horrifying plan...

Then the Winterwolf Knights will have more time and space to swiftly retreat into Typhon border, filling into the Winterwolf Fortress Defense Line, readying themselves.

Ready to face the Cecil Clan’s angry counterstrike.

Of course, even till now, Andresha still harbors a sliver of hope—hoping Earl Mogrolok hasn’t become irretrievably lost like those mutated War God’s clergy, hoping Iron River Knights’ warriors can still be intercepted by relatively mild measures, for unless absolutely necessary, she never wishes to direct her blade at Typhon people...

The sudden rise of bright magic projectiles from afar pulls Andresha from her thoughts.

Three red ones.

The young Wolf General watched the magic missile rise into the sky, his face more grim than ever before.

This matter could no longer be resolved at the negotiation table.

Within a fraction of a second, Andresha discarded all thoughts destined to fail, accepted the cold truth, turned, and raised her Longsword—

"Return to Winterwolf Fortress!"

...

The urgent report from the border was transmitted through various Magic Web nodes, crossing mountains and rivers in an instant, and when the terrifying torrent of the Rainbow Cannon swept across the land, a special Magic Web Terminal in the Supreme Administration Office began to hum urgently.

As the passive party, the capital of the Cecil Empire received the news faster than the Typhon Empire, which took the initiative to start the war.

The clerk responsible for this Magic Web Terminal was a young girl. She quickly ran to the desk, connected the equipment, and within the next few seconds, was left dumbfounded.

The young girl, who had been transferred to this office less than a week ago, seemed not to have processed what she had heard, but the next moment, Aunt Heidi, passing by in the corridor, had already pushed the door open and entered.

"What happened?" Heidi asked, looking at the young clerk standing dazedly next to the Magic Web Terminal, "Why do you look so stunned?"

"Heidi Grand Governor..." The young clerk blinked, finally reacting, "The Longwind Defense Line has been attacked! The Typhon people have declared war!!"

Heidi’s eyes widened instantly: "What did you say?!"

The next second, she seriously and swiftly instructed, "Summon the resident ambassador from Typhon immediately—also, prepare Meeting Room No. 1!"

The administrative organs of Cecil Castle operated like a Magic-Powered Engine suddenly entering overload mode, roaring to life in the blink of an eye.

Within the shortest time, an emergency meeting was organized. Half of the participants were not on site, but Magic Web Communication allowed all attendees to sit face to face.

Heidi had quickly briefed the situation, and the explosive news startled even the usually icy cold Duchess Victoria.

"Is our communication line with Typhon still operational?" Duke Baldwin Franklin urgently inquired through the Magic Web connection, "What did their ambassador say?"

"The Typhon people have not cut the line. I have sent an urgent message to Aldernon—but due to forwarding and manual transcription delays, we have not yet received a reply from Aldernon," Heidi also replied quickly, "As for their ambassador stationed in the imperial capital—I summoned him urgently just now, but he seemed totally unaware of this matter and was even more surprised than I was upon hearing the news."

"The ambassador does not know about his own country’s declaration of war against us?" An official at the Administrative Office glared, with a facial expression unsure if it was anger or laughter, "Is this the Typhon’s sense of humor?"

Heidi looked towards a section of the holographic image at the round table: "General Philip, report on the border situation."

Philip nodded: "We lost a border defense point near the Palamere Highlands. Only ten percent of the defenders managed to retreat successfully, while the others bravely perished. Fortunately, General Maryland has currently eliminated the enemies that invaded the defense line. The Iron Throne - Mundane Python along with three light armored trains are patrolling the railway network, temporarily bridging the gap in the defense line while searching for any remaining invaders. Currently, it has been preliminarily confirmed that the Typhon’s invading forces are from the Iron River Knights, but for some reason, this elite Typhon unit did not coordinate with infantry and combat Mage units and charged in directly—that’s also the main reason they were quickly annihilated."

"Do the Typhon people have any other actions at the moment?"

"Currently, no clearly aimed military actions have been detected—but the First Legion is always prepared to face war."

Face war.

The few words Philip spoke seemed to carry an invisible force, creating a solemn atmosphere in the meeting room.

Heidi raised her head, surveying the entire room.

The virtual projections of participants or personnel surrounded the round table, their gazes falling on her.

But she could tell that behind each gaze lay a hidden unease—

There was one vitally important person, who happened to be absent at this moment.

Even Heidi found it difficult to control her emotions; her heart had been beating faster than usual since a moment ago, and at this very moment, she hoped more than ever that her mountainous ancestor would appear immediately, handling this unexpected crisis with thunderous means, resolving it swiftly, or crafting the perfect response strategy. But she also knew that mere imagination wouldn’t solve the problem.

The ancestor hadn’t returned yet, but he would return soon, and until then, she had to fulfill her responsibilities.

"Summon the ambassador, contact the other side’s capital, send a diplomatic inquiry, those are the international norms required by our King and Typhon’s Emperor, and Cecil has already fulfilled its responsibility in this aspect—" Heidi intoned solemnly, "Whether the Typhon people abide by the rules they themselves promised is their own matter; now we must do our part.

"Philip, quickly prepare the First Legion to mobilize towards the Winterhold Castle demarcation line, regardless of whether the Typhon people have subsequent military actions, we must regain the initiative, and if the Typhon have any hostile movements—attack as soon as they enter the firing zone. You and General Maryland are fully responsible for the specific battle plans.

"Godwin, prepare for public opinion control and guidance, you should have many contingency plans on this front...

"Andon, temporarily responsible for...."

Heidi quickly assigned rough tasks—in this sudden situation, she no longer had the luxury of allowing everyone to plan thoroughly in the meeting, many decisions had to be made swiftly, and after making all the arrangements, she stood up, hands on the table.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is no longer a ’conflict.’ Although there are still many strange elements in this matter, we must prepare for the worst—it is likely to escalate into a full-scale war!"