Translator: AnubisTL
Deep within the vast, desolate Sierre Wilderness, approximately thirty kilometers south of the Scaly Earth Rift Road, a silent, deadly force advanced.
It was the dead of night. Two moons, one true and one false, were completely swallowed by thick, heavy clouds. Their faint light struggled to pierce the gloom, leaving the vast land below shrouded in an almost tangible, suffocating darkness.
Yet, within this impenetrable ink-black night, a sinuous, writhing dragon of fire moved forward in silence.
This was a torrent composed of elite cavalry and warriors, clad in exquisite heavy armor, wielding lances and war spears, and armed to the teeth. Alongside them marched alchemy golems, their metallic forms clanking in unison. The faint magical glow emanating from the gaps in their armor and the luminous aura of alchemical runes converged, forcefully dispelling the surrounding darkness and forming the only moving ribbon of light in the night.
This force was none other than the Albert Family's elite private army, the core force that Earl Mills had cultivated with countless effort and resources.
In the common perception, noble private armies, while well-equipped and generously treated, often lacked the true combat prowess of regular border troops, who spent their lives on the front lines, constantly on high alert and seasoned by years of warfare.
This perception was largely correct, but it did not apply to the Albert Family.
The Albert Family rose to prominence through their illustrious military achievements, forging deep ties with the military system of the Duchy of Raymond. The backbone of their private army was meticulously selected from the ranks of the military's elite.
While these soldiers were cultivated with the most generous resources, they also underwent years of brutal, militaristic training. They were frequently deployed to the fringes of actual conflict zones, tempered into true blades by the fires of war and the blood of battle.
When fighting for the Albert Family, they were a private army.
Yet, when deployed to any battlefield ablaze with war, they instantly transformed into a formidable, battle-hardened elite force.
At the forefront of this silent, dangerous party stood a towering knight, his entire body encased in dark, monstrous armor etched with countless battle scars. Only a pair of eyes, glinting with cold, sharp light, were visible beneath the helmet's shadow.
A massive tower shield was strapped to his back, and a sheathed two-handed greatsword, its blade shimmering with faint runes, hung diagonally at his waist.
Unlike the standard alchemically enhanced gear worn by the other soldiers, anyone who observed him closely would notice that every piece of his equipment, from helmet to boots, was intricately engraved with complex, meticulously carved rune patterns. These markings emanated a power far more profound and restrained than ordinary alchemical enhancements.
Anyone familiar with the Warrior Path could instantly recognize the leader's extraordinary profession.
A rune knight—a powerful and rare advanced branch of the Warrior Path. They don't rely on external artifacts; instead, they master supernatural runes, forging their power into martial techniques and equipment, unleashing destructive and defensive capabilities far beyond the ordinary.
This rune knight leader was named Rhode Albert.
Though he shared the same noble surname as Earl Mills, he possessed no noble bloodline.
Orphaned from birth, he was a complete orphan, his bloodline's origin and the land of his birth unknown.
From his earliest memories, his life had been inextricably linked to the cold stone walls and bland gruel of the orphanage funded by the Albert Family.
The turning point in his life came during his childhood.
During a fierce conflict within the orphanage, he displayed a ferocity and resilience far beyond his peers. This led to his selection and removal from the institution.
Afterward, he underwent the most brutal training, growing up in the most dangerous jungles of swords and blades. Every honor he earned was inextricably linked to his campaigns for the Albert Family.
When he reached the age of thirty, his body covered in indelible marks of merit, the leaders of the Albert Family finally bestowed upon him their genuine recognition.
He was formally admitted to the family lineage, bearing the glorious Albert surname.
Moreover, he married a lady of true noble blood from within the family, officially becoming a member of the Albert Family.
From that day forward, he lived for the family, fought for it, and was willing to die for it.
His reputation for ruthlessness, ferocity, and decisive action preceded him.
In the military, Rhode had earned another fearsome title: Albert's Vicious Wolf, the Vicious Wolf General.
At that moment, the face of this "Albert's Vicious Wolf" tightened slightly beneath his cold helmet, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly.
He abruptly raised his steel-clad arm and made a sharp, decisive stopping gesture. His voice rolled across the silent wilderness like distant thunder.
"Halt!"
The command was absolute, and it was obeyed instantly.
The moment the Vicious Wolf General barked the order, the entire force, which had been marching with machine-like precision, came to an abrupt halt. Every soldier froze in place, their movements uniformly synchronized, and a deathly, oppressive silence descended upon the entire party.
Rhode tilted his head slightly, his icy gaze sweeping forward like a hawk's as he scrutinized the scene with grave intensity.
Standing directly in front of the party was a rugged and eerie hill that loomed ominously in the thick darkness. Its silhouette resembled a colossal ancient beast, coiled low to the ground, poised to strike. The surrounding terrain was a complex maze, the perfect place for an ambush.
Rhode's battle instincts, honed through countless crawls through seas of corpses and blood, sharpened his senses to the danger permeating the air.
This location was only about thirty kilometers from the Ironforged Tribe's stronghold.
Since the Lord Earl intended to crush the monsters with an overwhelming and honorable display of force, their march had been anything but discreet, making their presence almost certainly known.
Any Ironforged commander with even the most basic strategic sense would inevitably choose to set up a heavily fortified ambush on this hill, using the terrain to their advantage.
If I were in command, I would do exactly that, one hundred percent.
Those arrogant noble officers, however, might foolishly assume the monsters were crude and unintelligent, ignorant of military tactics, and not worth worrying about.
But Rhode Albert never thought that way.
Never underestimate your enemy.
This was the iron rule the Vicious Wolf General had forged with the blood of countless comrades and foes.
The Ironforged Tribe, a force that compelled Earl Mills to mobilize his family's entire resources for this campaign, could never be a pushover. They demanded the utmost vigilance.
"Sienna."
The Vicious Wolf General turned his head slightly, his deep voice resonating through the gaps in his helmet: "Deploy the alchemical heavy cannons immediately! Target the hill ahead and unleash a saturation bombardment!"
(End of the Chapter)
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