Northern Border of the Island.
The frost wind rampages over the sea.
The Empire's sea waves are incredibly fierce, turning an Alliance battleship into a bizarrely shaped iceberg.
Despair is etched on the faces of the Alliance soldiers on the deck, they turn into ice sculptures in the freezing air, only to be mercilessly beheaded by the ruthless Imperial soldiers.
The ice spreads forward under the feet of the Imperial soldiers, while the oblivious mechanical soldiers tread on the sea as if it's flat ground, endlessly crawling up onto the main ship of the Graythorn Legion.
Commander Ralph, clad in magic-guided battle armor, pants heavily, his heart burning with rage.
He got screwed by that bastard Horn, if he hadn't voluntarily dispersed the troops, the Graythorn Legion would never be in such a precarious situation!
Just then, the distant sea surface ripples slightly, and finally, two warships sent out by Chief of Staff Nico have returned!
