Chapter 319 - 169: Action Tonight

"We should be grateful for the Vanguard Army’s failure. They brought us vital intelligence."

"If not for them, we might not have known the Undead had changed. An enemy that has revealed itself isn’t what’s scary. The truly terrifying enemy is the one that remains hidden."

Palamede scanned the surrounding Clan Leaders and generals, then spoke in a measured voice. The Vanguard Army had failed and suffered considerable losses, but in his eyes, it was all worth it. It was far better than being caught off guard by the Undead once the war truly began.

In Palamede’s mind, what was a Vanguard Army for? Its purpose was to attack, draw the first wave of fire, and probe for enemy intelligence. Momonai had managed to bring back the latest information on the Undead. That was enough. He had completed his mission; there was no need to reprimand him further.

’Did these people seriously expect a single vanguard army to win the war?’

If the Undead were that easy to deal with, they wouldn’t have needed to form an Alliance Army in the first place. A few Tribes could have been sent to wipe them out with a flick of the wrist.

Ever since arriving at the Alliance Army’s camp, Palamede had been sorting through intelligence on the Undead. Yet, the compiled reports always left him with a nagging sense of unease. Something felt wrong. This unease stemmed from the Undead’s apparent weakness!

According to the reports, when the Alliance Army was first formed, the Undead numbered only a few thousand. And yet, a mere few thousand Undead had managed to harass three Races enough for them to form an alliance. Of course, in reality, not many people paid much attention to this alliance back then.

But as time went on, more reports trickled in. The number of Undead was multiplying. The turning point was their arrival at the Wraith Mountain Range. After annihilating the Alliance Army’s first Vanguard Army, it was as if the Undead had taken a potent elixir; they began to expand at an astonishing rate.

Palamede guessed there had to be something in the Wraith Mountain Range that was fueling the Undead’s growth. Their scouts, however, were unable to get inside—or rather, they didn’t dare enter the Wraith Mountain Range. As a result, it was impossible to know what was happening within.

The Alliance Army’s intelligence indicated that the Undead were primarily composed of Skeletons, with only a scant few other types of troops.

’That was clearly wrong.’ Palamede was deeply suspicious of this report. The Undead were a legendary Race, a calamitous force capable of sweeping across continents. He refused to believe that a mere pile of humanoid Skeletons could achieve such a feat. ’Do they take the other Races of this land for fools?’

’Only an idiot would think that.’

When you live long enough, you learn things others don’t. Palamede had lived for over 300 years, and when it came to esoteric knowledge, he knew far more than anyone else in this region. He was keenly aware of his own weakness—and just how weak this land he called home truly was.

The Wasteland was vast, yet they lived in just one small corner of it. Even then, they lacked the Power to conquer this corner completely, let alone other lands.

Take the Central Zone of the Wasteland, for example. The Races there were each more powerful than the last, the factions each more ruthless. It was a completely different world from this land he inhabited.

In comparison, to the people of the Central Zone, the battles here—fights involving a few thousand, or even tens of thousands of people—were, heh, little more than childish squabbles.

Palamede had traveled to the Central Zone in his youth. He had seen what it was like, had witnessed its battlefields. Armies of a hundred thousand were considered a small affair. When war broke out, Magic flew wildly, and lives were cheaper than dirt.

The Central Zone was far more bountiful than this region. To maintain their place in that land of plenty, the Races there developed with desperate fervor. They forged and broke alliances, using every means possible to strengthen themselves. The slightest relaxation, the briefest moment of weakness, could lead to personal death and the annihilation of one’s people.

Before he’d traveled to the Central Zone, Palamede had thought the same as everyone else: that its people lived in harmonious prosperity. In reality, however, the competition there was far beyond what he could have imagined. By comparison, it was his own people who lived lazy, peaceful lives.

It was precisely because he had been to the Central Zone that he had consciously settled down after his return, no longer acting with his former recklessness.

It wasn’t that he had lost his ambition. On the contrary, his ambition had grown even larger. He wanted to go to the Central Zone. He wanted to test his strength against its great Races. He, Palamede, the Legendary Race Leader, would never resign himself to mediocrity!

But to march on the Central Zone, he needed overwhelming strength. He had to develop his Tribe, make it stronger, and stop senselessly squandering his population and fighting power as he had in the past. That was why he had laid low.

Endurance, for the sake of greater glory.

His re-emergence now was because he saw the potential in the Alliance Army. ’If everyone could unite to destroy the Undead, couldn’t they also unite to form an even greater Power and make a push for the Central Zone?’

If he could lead the Alliance Army to sweep away the Undead, the benefits would be immense. Not only would his own renown reach its zenith, but he would also have firm control over a massive army. That would be his trump card for striking at the Central Zone.

Beyond his ambition to live in the Central Zone, Palamede also hoped to leverage its advantages to find ways to become stronger and live longer.

The Clan Leaders and generals in the meeting hall listened to Palamede’s words. Though their thoughts varied, on the surface they all appeared quite serious, nodding repeatedly in agreement.