Chapter 180: Strong? Then Watch This

"Lord, we’ve searched the Region. It’s empty too. There isn’t a single Crown Lord left."

Osmund Tervain snorted at the Legendary Equinox Sage’s report.

"Evacuating everything ahead of us? Riftward moved quickly. They’ve already pulled every Lord back behind their defensive line."

He had swept through ten Regions in a day without finding a single Lord.

The land itself, however, was another matter.

"What a rich Region."

Aether filled the air. Without even moving from where he stood, he could see two Uncommon resource sites.

"More than a thousand Regions like this in one Marches. And then there’s Riftward Region itself, with its seventy-two Fortune."

His eyes narrowed.

"The military promised all this to the Beacon League? A disgrace."

Once the Crown Lords were dead, perhaps he should have Galen occupy Riftward directly. A place this rich could raise generations of Black Banner elites.

A voice interrupted him from a hundred meters away.

"Tervain! I’m hungry again! Where are the Dragons?"

Osmund stiffened.

"We’ll head straight for Riftward Region, Lord Morvane. They have Dragons there, and great stores of Epic and even Legendary spirit food. If the hunger is too much, please have a little something first."

"I suppose I’ll have to."

Tobren Morvane sighed. His body swelled like an inflated bladder, becoming a ten-meter ball of flesh. He grabbed two Silvermoon Rangers standing beside him, their eyes dull and empty, and stuffed them into his mouth.

Bones crunched. Blood and broken fragments spattered the ground.

Tobren exhaled and slowly shrank back to his former shape. He wiped his mouth.

"I’m nearly out of the snacks I brought, Tervain. If they don’t last, I’ll have to trouble you. You know my master won’t be satisfied with anything below Epic."

That was the price of taking power from Gluttony.

The ten veteran Lords accompanying Osmund were butchers who killed without blinking. Every one of them took an involuntary step back.

Osmund was beginning to regret bringing Tobren down with him.

He opened the group and sent his orders at once.

[Full speed. Proceed to your assigned targets. Detachments One through Four: Riftward Region. Five through Seven: Ironwake. Eight through Ten: Greyfen.]

The military planners had studied those three Regions. The Crown could not afford to abandon them, especially Riftward.

His message had barely gone out when he cried aloud.

"A communication seal?"

He checked the restriction.

"Fifteen days! A Legendary scroll!"

Where had Cassian found such a thing? A lucky drop? Had he somehow reached Rank XI and bought it through an Exchange?

Osmund’s expression turned ugly.

"He can hide his voice, but he can’t hide his Region. Everyone, move faster! I want to reach Riftward within a day!"

He had no idea that, two thousand kilometers to his left, another detachment had already met Cassian.

——

"Dragons! Those must be Cassian’s Dragons!"

"A newcomer is attacking us? Has he lost his mind?"

"Who cares? He’s brought us a chance to distinguish ourselves!"

Ten Black Banner Lords stared at the eight Dragons hovering a few hundred meters away. Their excitement grew with every moment.

They came from small families. In Sector 663, becoming a Warden was about as high as they could hope to climb. When would they ever have another chance to kill a genius valuable enough for an entire country to protect?

"Kill Cassian, and we’ll earn at least a Rising Sun Medal. Coming down here was worth every bit of the cost!"

Their detachment leader, Godric Huxley, laughed.

"Cassian is my benefactor. After I kill him, I’ll put a memorial tablet in my house and make offerings every day!"

Defeat did not even enter their thoughts.

"Black Hole!"

All eight Dragons cast together. Terrible suction spread across the Black Banner formation.

Huxley sneered.

"Basic Black Hole? With no specialized Hero Command or Lord Talent to support those Dragons? How naive. Sword Saints, cut them down!"

Dozens of Starseers raised their hands. Defensive star arts spread over the formation, easily counteracting the pull.

Against lower-Quality troops, the Black Holes had been devastating. Veterans from an older sector were a different matter.

Training Arts, equipment, Lord Talents—three years of accumulated advantages made even their Rare troops comparable to ordinary Epic monsters. Their Epics could match ordinary Legendaries.

Hundreds of troops with the strength of Legendary monsters. Thousands with the strength of Epics.

And this was only one of the ten detachments.

Their confidence had a foundation.

At Huxley’s order, twelve old men in swordsmen’s robes stepped forward together.

"Quickdraw Slash!"

Twelve blades flashed from their sheaths. Sword light dozens of meters long cut through the air toward the Dragons.

Cassian felt the sharpness of those attacks and nodded appreciatively.

"So that’s what three years gives them. Ordinary newcomers wouldn’t stand a chance."

This was his first direct encounter with the force from Sector 663. He had let them show their strength before answering.

They had not disappointed him.

Celia saw through the Sword Saints at a glance.

"Level fifty-five, but their Combat Ratings are around five thousand stars. Quickdraw Slash is Grade B. A few of those attacks have the strength of Greater Mastery."

She watched the approaching sword light.

"If one lands cleanly on Nine, a single cut could—"

"Celia! Keep explaining, and I’ll be dead before you finish!"

Crystal Nine’s protest rose from beneath their feet.

Cassian laughed softly.

"Go ahead. Finish this quickly."

Gold flashed at his brow.

His Gold Battle Name activated. Every unit in his Domain, including Cassian himself and Celia, received a thirty-percent increase to all attributes.

There was still no need for Celia to draw her sword.

Rhea swept in front of Nine on her wind wings. The other eight Praetorians closed beside her, shields rising together.

"Aegis Fold!"

The twelve streaks of sword light struck their joined defense and shattered. Violent energy scattered in every direction.

A ripple passed along the shield line. Then it steadied, ready to receive another volley.

The Sword Saints were strong. With Cassian’s Gold Battle Name behind them, his Praetorians were stronger.

"This... What kind of troops are those?" Huxley stammered.

His shock had only begun.

Liora waved her blue staff. The air rippled, revealing the Dawnwing corps hanging behind the Dragons.

A hundred and fifty-six Legendary Dawnwings.

Invisibility was only a Grade-C spell. Cast by a Legendary Three-Star Hero, it had still been far beyond these Lords’ ability to detect.

Silence fell over the Black Banner formation. Then the cries began.

"Dawnwings!"

"A few Dawnwings, I could understand. But Arcanists, Vanguards, Marshals... That’s a complete fighting force!"

"Impossible! This sector isn’t even three months old! How can anyone have a Legendary corps?"

"Even a Wild recruitment building couldn’t produce an army like that!"

"An illusion! It has to be an illusion!"

Aurelia looked over the winged ranks, her eyes bright with excitement. These sisters had fought other Lords before. Now the corps would face the veterans of an older sector.

Commanding them brought back the familiar thrill of leading the Dawnwing Host.

Her voice rang across the battlefield, crushing their last hope.

"Sisters! For our Lord—kill the invaders!"