https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-419-The-Battle-for-Holy-City-Part-1-/13676831/
Chapter 418: Hono Valley – Southernmost End of the Cattapa Region
A force of several hundred men was garrisoned here, on high alert. They carried swords and rifles, wore lightweight leather armor, and bore the Winged Sun Sacred Emblem of the Thrace Kingdom on their chests.
"Captain," a voice asked, "are we really supposed to stay here?"
"Yes," came the firm reply. "This is Count Fabrik’s order before his southward march. The Northern Empire is a threat to the Thrace Kingdom. We cannot allow them to exploit the situation and swallow our lands."
The man addressed as “Captain” wore finely crafted iron armor, his silver sword polished to a mirror shine. His voice carried unwavering resolve. His name was Piotr McGrath—commander of this scout unit, and a warrior of transcendent rank. Yet, despite his strength, he had not yet undergone the Sun Sacrifice Ceremony.
This was the enduring legacy of the Sacred Fedran—their unmatched power, their sacred might. In Anzeta, Piotr’s strength alone would have made him a general in any northern march kingdom.
Count Fabrik had been the Divine Noble guarding the northernmost reaches of the Thrace Kingdom. With the war over the Holy City intensifying, he had been recalled southward, leaving behind only a loyal garrison of reliable troops.
"But..." the second-in-command hesitated. "According to the treaty, we're already near the border region. Stepping further might cross into that Empire’s territory. Won’t that cause conflict?"
"No." Piotr shook his head, sharpening his blade with a contemptuous flick. "They’re nothing but barbarians from the remote backlands."
"They’ve never witnessed the past glory of the Holy Fadalan. And yet, they dare to call themselves an Empire? How laughable."
"Indeed," the adjutant nodded solemnly. The Holy Fadalan Empire—its name alone carried reverence. Whether from Thrace, Cassander, or Seleucus, every nation cherished the memory of its golden age, each believing themselves the true heirs of that mighty legacy.
This was the pride of the Fedran people—a century-long supremacy across the entire Feiansuo Continent. Dwarves, elves, giants, even fiends—all had knelt beneath the radiant might of the Empire.
To recall the glory of the Sacred Fedran’s century was enough to make even the poorest, most broken soul stand tall with pride.
Piotr lifted his longsword, its blade gleaming brilliantly under the sunlight.
"Besides," he continued, "they’ve only just set foot in Cattapa Region for a month. They haven’t even established a presence yet."
"Hah. This isn’t the barren wasteland of Anzeta. Monsters and beasts of nightmare roam freely. Building a city here won’t be easy."
Still, the adjutant frowned. "But the north has been restless lately..."
Then—thud, thud, thud—a deep, heavy rumble echoed from the north. The earth trembled. Even the horses in the camp screamed in terror.
Piotr narrowed his eyes, turning toward the horizon. "Could it be...?"
"Impossible," he muttered, stunned.
Hundreds of two-headed dragons surged into view, wings flailing wildly, their shrieks deafening. Their massive forms collided in midair like a black, overwhelming storm cloud descending from afar.
On the ground, dozens of earth-crawling dragonbeasts—like moving hills—appeared on the distant horizon. Each bore cannons on their flanks, and mounted upon their backs were giant ogre cavalry.
"Long live the Empire!"
"Long live Emperor Kai Xiusu!"
The advance guard roared in unison, their voices shaking the sky.
A thunderous shout cut through the air from within the ranks.
"Arrogant Thracians!"
"You have crossed the border!"
"Now, this land belongs to the Empire of Ashen—the great Emperorland of King Kai Xiusu!"
"Step one foot further north, and you will be violating Empire territory. The Empire’s army will deliver merciless punishment!"
Jese sat atop the largest of the earth-crawling dragonbeasts, activating an Imperial-Approved magical amplifier. His voice boomed across the wasteland like a war drum.
"How could such an army appear in this remote, desolate region?" Piotr stared in disbelief at the approaching imperial vanguard. The strength and might displayed by this force far exceeded his expectations.
Only the Divine Descendant Army of the Kingdom, the Arcane Legion, or the Steel Colossus Legion could possibly stand against such a force.
For a common unit like his—no chance at all.
And based on Piotr’s experience points, even the northern noble lords of Anzeta fielded armies that were laughably weak. A thousand-man force contained barely a handful of professional soldiers.
To fight them, the Empire wouldn’t have needed to send such a formidable force.
"Wait..." Piotr suddenly realized something. Cold sweat broke across his brow.
He had just dismissed the idea of reconnaissance, sending scouts north without restriction. And now—no word. Not a single report. Could it be—
"Captain, help me!" A desperate cry rang out.
There, within the enemy formation, stood the missing soldier—captured, handcuffed, bound and dragged forward. A prisoner.
Jese spoke again.
"If anyone dares step onto Empire territory without permission..."
The Great Goblin paused. Then slowly raised his finely crafted pistol, and without hesitation, pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The soldier collapsed, lifeless.
"Wait—please, we can talk—" Piotr’s eyes widened in shock. His hand froze midair, disbelief etched across his face.
Had the Great Goblin actually assassinated a Thrace Kingdom soldier?
Right in front of everyone?
This was open, brazen humiliation!
Jese glanced coldly at the fallen man.
"That," he said, "is his fate."
"Did you all hear that?"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Earl Goliath fired several shots into the sky. Silence followed—absolute, deathly still.
The adjutant whispered, "Captain… what do we do?"
Piotr stared at the overwhelming force advancing from the north. He said nothing for a long moment. Then, gritting his teeth, he issued his order.
"Move out. Now. Retreat—no unnecessary casualties."
"From now on, no one goes near the border region. The Thrace Kingdom can no longer afford to provoke an empire like this."
"Go!"
Panic-stricken Thrace soldiers scrambled to mount their horses, dragging their logistical supplies southward—fleeing in a disorganized, near-routed retreat.
Jese stood atop the dragonbeast’s spine, expressionless, eyes narrowed as he watched the retreating army vanish into the distance.
"Cattapa Region is the Empire’s first key base for its southern advance."
"Absolute control must be secured."
The Empire’s interest in Cattapa was no accident. It was a strategic gateway—breaking through the Thrace Kingdom’s ennobled blockade. To the southwest, it opened the path to the Silvermoon Bay Free Confederation. To the east, it led straight to the Dwarven Mountain Kingdom.
Once the Empire of Ashen had fully consolidated its strength across the Anzeta Great Wasteland, it would cross through Cattapa—finally stepping onto the continental stage.
And thus, the great chessboard of Feiansuo would see a new, dominant power emerge.
(End of Chapter)
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