The radiance of the Erdtree, like a dazzling sun, once again lit the ancient city of Elphael.
The heavy gates of the outer city slowly opened, revealing a bright and spacious scene ahead.
Messmer stood upon the walls in heavy armor, holding a massive war spear, like an unshakable mountain.
His figure was tall, his arms spread as he stood upright.
There was no one before him, yet that gentle golden light flowed over his body like a warm current, as if a mother's palm were tenderly soothing a child longing for her love.
This was the northern side of Elphael's outer city, an area specially used for defense.
Unlike Redmane Castle, this city was not a purely militarized fortress. The inner city still preserved the streets of an ordinary town, filled with life and vitality.
However, because it was often harassed by certain insects, the outer city had been completely divided into military zones and stationed with large numbers of troops.
"Looks like your results are quite impressive!" Nolan stood beside Messmer and could not help praising him.
He gazed at the scene before him, admiration for Messmer showing in his eyes.
"This spirit is completely different from how they were in the Land of Shadow."
"When these Flying Dragons followed Bayle, they were merely packs of wild beasts. That tyrannical Lord never understood how to command or control them."
Messmer spoke in complete seriousness.
"On the battlefield, even the fiercest beast is nothing more than a moving lump of flesh. Right now, we've only taught them the discipline they ought to have. They are still far from elite."
After hearing this, Nolan nodded thoughtfully.
He knew very well that the current combat strength of this legion was mainly supported by the former Impaler's Army, a true force hardened by a hundred battles.
They had once followed Godfrey in his wars across the Lands Between, and later, Marika had handed them over to Messmer to command in the slaughter of the Hornsent. The opponents they faced had either been the armies of Lords or the followers of ancient gods.
As they stepped into the building, light spilled down like a silver waterfall, illuminating everything in dazzling white.
The walls had been painted with a thick layer of whitewash, while the floor was laid with neat square white stone tiles, making the place look exceptionally clean.
Clearly, that little Goddess had a special fondness for this pure color.
Armor parts were piled in the corners, and weapons filled the long racks.
Even more striking were the reins several meters long, winding across the ground like snakes and connected to enormous helmets.
It could be faintly seen that those large pieces of armor had been prepared for the Flying Dragons. But there were only headpieces, clearly designed to make controlling them in the sky easier.
The Flying Dragons crouched on the ground with their wings folded, while knights straddled their necks and tried to guide them. The dragons also carried javelins and various pots on their backs.
The knights gripped long spears in one hand and held the reins tightly with the other.
When the Flying Dragons felt the knights' commands, they slowly rose and spread their huge wings.
These creatures probably truly would not flee on the battlefield anymore.
Because if they ever showed such intent, the knights on their backs might pierce their skulls first. Under military law, knights bore no responsibility for executing deserters.
"This should be the first Flying Dragon Knight legion in the Lands Between," Nolan said with a smile. With this, they would hold air superiority in most wars.
"Mastering the power of the sky is indeed important," Messmer said with feeling. "In the past, the Storm King's Stormhawk Legion caused considerable trouble for the dynasty's southern expeditionary army."
Nolan paused slightly, unsure whether to call himself lucky or unlucky... If he had been born in such an age, perhaps it would have been even more magnificent and turbulent.
That era had not only legendary warriors like Godfrey, but also numerous Lords, as well as the gods behind them.
Compared to that, the wars between Demigods might have been little more than small skirmishes.
But such an age was gone forever. He had no chance to witness that glorious history himself, nor could he use his own sword to measure himself against the figures in those stories.
Things had become simpler, yet that could not help bringing a faint sense of loss. However, that loss was quickly replaced by relief.
If he had come to this world during that era, perhaps he would never have met the people now at his side.
Thinking of this, he could not help marveling at the strange arrangement of fate.
But on closer thought, it was almost too fortunate, as if some invisible hand had been guiding his path in the dark, leading him to the age he needed.
His arrival seemed so abrupt, like an accident, yet it also seemed carefully planned.
It was like trying to make someone move forward. It did not matter if they did not know the destination. As long as they saw the road, they would keep walking.
Nolan narrowed his eyes, as if he were precisely the sort of person who would move forward once he saw a path, while the one who wanted him to move forward hid somewhere unseen, coldly staring back at him.
Nolan gave a soft snort, the corner of his mouth curving into a nearly imperceptible smile.
If there truly were someone in this world secretly manipulating his fate, perhaps he would not feel anger or fear. Instead, he would first thank that person properly, then express his gratitude with a swing of his sword.
Under that gaze from above, the Flying Dragons shuddered hard. They probably thought their training had not been diligent enough and had angered that Lord, so they worked even harder to cooperate with the knights on their backs.
Speaking of which, it was strange. Nolan had not done anything especially excessive to them, yet the Flying Dragons could never forget the sight of Bayle and Senessax "falling." Instead, they firmly believed that only greater fear could shatter fear.
"Is it just me, or do these fellows seem more numerous than before?" Nolan rubbed his chin.
The Flying Dragons slowly flapped their wings. When Nolan looked over, they suddenly sped up, vanishing into clouds like cotton candy, their dragon cries sounding like little dogs begging for attention.
"They're followers of Borealis. They've survived on the Consecrated Snowfield for years, so they're all quite capable. They've been arriving one after another over the past few days and are temporarily serving as squad leaders for the Flying Dragons."
Messmer stroked the cold scales of a Flying Dragon beside him. "But Borealis has not returned yet. It seems finding that prey will still take time."
"It doesn't really matter if it can't find it." Nolan waved his hand indifferently. "We don't have much time. If it still hasn't found it within three days, have it come back."
What they were discussing sounded like some strange initiation ritual, and the reason for it was that this good son before him had set a bad precedent by bringing a gift the moment he joined, spoiling the atmosphere.
"What prey?" the Cleanrot Knight who had been following closely behind Nolan suddenly asked. A cool female voice came from beneath the helmet.
"Seems to be some kind of earth dragon. Don't worry about it. I've already felt your loyalty through Malenia." Nolan waved his hand without turning back and answered casually.
The woman wrapped up tightly was Millicent. Or rather, she could also be called Malenia.
At the very least, Nolan had confirmed that as avatar and original, they possessed the same will.
Far away in the Cleanrot Knights' encampment, Malenia's beautiful face flushed slightly as she could not help giving a cold snort, and Millicent clenched her fist along with her.
But with no next move to make, her fist loosened again. If even the original was no match for him, this avatar should not overestimate herself.
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