Chapter 182: Thanks for the Battle Essence

Liora really was a scholar. She had learned a little of everything.

Cassian was almost reluctant to give her ordinary magic Skill Books now. With forty-six spells already in her repertoire, he did not want her spreading her studies too thin.

Mental Prison was a Grade-C spell that confined the target’s entire consciousness within the mind. With Liora’s Spirit behind it, these ten Lords would never wake again unless she allowed it.

His own force had suffered one death. A Dawnwing Vanguard had fallen during the battle.

A Marshal could find the best available tactic. She could not make every danger disappear. Fortunately, Resurrection had restored the fallen Vanguard on the spot.

"This battle was easy," Cassian said. "But it was only a tenth of their army."

He considered the strength they had shown.

"I still underestimated these veterans a little. Good thing they were arrogant enough to split up. If they’d stayed together, even winning would have cost us dearly. And I couldn’t have made sure none escaped."

He finished his assessment and collected the rewards.

About five hundred and twenty million Battle Essence.

Three Legendary pieces of equipment, a hundred and eighty-five Epics, and twelve hundred and fifty Rares.

Three Grade-B Skill Books, along with a number of Grade-C books.

Killing an enemy Lord, Hero, or troop gave more than Battle Essence. There was a good chance of obtaining a piece of the victim’s equipment, and a very small chance of receiving a book for one of their skills or another item.

Cassian looked over the haul. The Battle Essence in particular brought a broad smile to his face.

"If I ever stand above all the realms, I’ll have today’s Black Banner Lords to thank. They brought the bodies themselves."

He raised a hand. Upgrade light shone through the ranks.

[Battle Essence consumed: 23,670,000. Your troop Lorraine has advanced to Level 50.]

The same notices followed, one after another.

Twenty-two of his existing Dawnwing Vanguards rose from Level 40 to Level 50.

One victory had paid for another sharp increase in strength.

"Seven. Find the next detachment."

"Yes, Lord."

Crystal Seven surveyed the surrounding area.

"There’s only one within two thousand kilometers of us. It seems to be heading for Greyfen. Eight is still three hundred kilometers away, returning at full speed. She should have fresh positions for you."

The communication seal affected Cassian too. He could no longer send messages to his Heroes and troops through the Lord’s Heart. To keep track of the enemy, he needed his scouts to fly back with their reports.

Fortunately, the Nine-Star Maidens had an enormous survey range and the speed to make use of it. He could still keep track of the whole operation.

Eight returned soon afterward. She marked the latest positions of every detachment she had found in her assigned direction.

Cassian studied the map.

"The nearest one first."

——

While Cassian worked through the enemy detachments, the sudden silence over Riftward left the rest of Tidecrown stunned.

The Black Banner Commanders called an emergency video conference.

"I spoke to Lord Tervain shortly before it happened," Kelshore said loudly. "He had no intention of sealing the Marches."

Rolfe Veylan nodded.

"Then it must be Cassian. Perhaps he detected the divided army and thinks the confusion will give him a chance to survive."

Several Commanders frowned.

"He was already the strongest Lord in Tidecrown. Since he earned that Gold Battle Name, who knows how much stronger he’s become? If he gathers all of Riftward’s War Lords to ambush one detachment, they could be in danger."

"Lord Tervain was careless."

"Who could have expected a Legendary Communication Seal Scroll? How lucky can Cassian be?"

Rolfe Veylan hesitated, then made a suggestion.

"Should Veylan and Kelshore send our armies into Riftward to support Lord Tervain?"

Eyes brightened around the conference. Kelshore looked particularly interested.

The wealth of an entire Marches was hard to imagine. The wealth of Riftward was another matter altogether.

Perhaps Osmund had barred them from entering because he wanted it all for himself.

Now they had a reason to go in. They could hardly be blamed for worrying about the veterans’ safety.

"There’s no need for that!"

Galen Tervain laughed.

"My brother gave me a copy of every veteran Lord’s Soul Imprint. If one of them meets with an accident—and I do mean if—I’ll know at once. We can take action then."

He smiled at the other Commanders.

"Besides, Cassian can’t send messages either. Sealing the Marches only delays his death."

*That’s as much as I can do for you, Brother.*

Galen silently wished Osmund a very profitable campaign.

——

Over the course of that day, Tidecrown lost more than half its remaining Crown Lords to another wave of departures. Barely a million remained across the Crown Marches.

Before, the descent of veterans had been a threat. Now it had happened.

No one could promise that, once Riftward fell, their own Marches would not be next. By then, it would be too late to run.

The Crown alliance’s management group had been caught just as unprepared by the communication seal.

Colonel Mercer looked at Cassian’s portrait in the Lord list with a complicated expression.

"I never expected them to move this quickly. I thought the veterans would come after the contest for the Governorship."

The Black Banner had acted before their enemies could respond. By the time the Crown understood what was happening, Riftward was already sealed.

"Four Fortune on average," Mercer said. "The Marches is too valuable. Cassian has drawn too much attention."

Corin smiled bitterly.

"Even with advance warning, do you think he’d have relocated?"

Lydia’s anger broke through.

"The Beacon League is supposed to be our ally. They sent troops to stop us from helping him!"

"They’re merchants who care about profit," Corin said. "With Riftward at stake, did you expect them to honor an alliance?"

He shook his head.

"But Cassian... He still manages to surprise me. Sealing the whole Marches. At least he’s made it harder for them to know what’s happening."

Mercer let out a breath.

"Osmund was arrogant enough to split his army. That gives Riftward a chance to destroy the detachments separately. It’s their last hope of victory."

Everyone knew how slender that hope was.

The words offered comfort. None of them found it convincing.

——

In two days, Cassian flew tens of thousands of kilometers and destroyed six of the ten detachments.

"Just as you expected, Lord," Seven reported. "Of the four remaining groups, one is heading for Ironwake, one for Greyfen, and two for Riftward Region. All three Regions will probably be fighting today."

The veterans moved quickly. In three days, they had crossed more than ten thousand kilometers from the Marches’ border into its heart.

Cassian touched a point on the map.

"This is Osmund’s detachment?"

Several of the captured Lords had proved eager to live. From them, he had learned the enemy’s arrangements and the strength of its leaders.

"Yes, Lord."

"We’ll deal with Osmund," Cassian said with a smile. "The three Regions can handle the rest."

Part of the reason was to cover his own strength. If word spread across the Homeworld that one newcomer had wiped out a hundred veteran Lords by himself, the next force sent after him might have far more than three years behind it.

It would also do Riftward’s Lords good to face an older sector’s strength for themselves. They should know how much lay beyond their own Region.

He had sent Crystal Five and Six to wait out of sight near Ironwake, and Eight, Ten, and Eleven to do the same near Greyfen. After delivering her report, Seven left to join the Ironwake group.

Each group would have three Maidens, including one at Nine-Star. If the defenders were in danger of losing, they were to step in.

Nine and Twelve stayed with Cassian.

Before long, Cassian found his last target.

Osmund Tervain. Lieutenant Colonel in Sector 663’s Black Banner special forces. He had repeatedly led military Lords into Crown territory and left countless dead behind him. He had volunteered for this descent.

Tobren Morvane. A genius of the Morvane family who had secured a permanent contract with Gluttony within a year. One of Sector 663’s strongest Spiritbound Lords. On his own, he had once devoured dozens of War Lords and nearly ten thousand troops.

Cassian smiled.

"A proper opponent. Looks like the money and Battle Essence I spent on Celia won’t go to waste."

Osmund had no idea that more than half his detachments were already gone. Once he confirmed Cassian’s identity, delight spread across his face.

He laughed and turned to Tobren.

"Lord Morvane! The Dragons you ordered have arrived!"

Tobren had finished every last one of the rations he had brought. If suitable food did not turn up soon, Osmund’s own troops would have been next.

To Osmund, Cassian had come to deliver a meal. His timing could not have been better.

"I almost want to give you a five-star review."