Chapter 777

Chapter 777: The Nightmarish Red and Black

In the Third Age, July 1698, the war raged fiercely.

Since spring, the Crimson Empire had launched successive attacks. The 1.6 million-strong army led by Duke Red Dragon was divided into three routes, crossing the former Western Wind border and entering the heart of Clancia. The vanguard, less than 300 kilometers from the capital Soland, advanced rapidly.

The western army invaded the Wind Curtain Province and Wind Droop Province, aiming for the West Coast. The eastern army advanced along the Sighing Mountains, gradually extending its occupied territories towards the Tixilam Mountains. The central army gathered elite forces, preparing to crush Clancia’s main strength in one decisive blow.

On the undulating plains of Wind Droop Province, black and red flags fluttered, while beneath them lay a vast expanse of iron-gray land. The soldiers holding lances and shields moved steadily forward, closing in on the enemy’s position.

On the hillside, Clancia’s troops were stationed. White flags with golden patterns fluttered in the wind, and the stars and wheat sheaves on the banners shone clearly under the sunlight.

“Raise your shields and reinforce the defense. Our mission is to hold this ground until reinforcements arrive.”

A man in a white coat with gold trim walked through the lines, shouting commands. Despite his apparent age of only 20-something, he possessed the power of Sequence 6, making him a rare strong warrior in these times.

This young man, elegant in appearance and wearing a splendid silver shield and long sword, commanded the battle. He was among the first batch of graduates sent to Emanas by Clancia and now served as the commander of this legion.

Though he belonged to the Angel Sequence, it didn’t mean he lacked military prowess. In fact, he was one of the few military geniuses among Clancia’s younger generation, earning his reputation through countless battles.

However, he did not take pride in this because most of his battles were defensive, making it difficult to inflict significant damage on the enemy.

—

On the other side of the battlefield:

Through the telescope, the shields on the hillside formed a continuous line, resembling a silver wave, with a harmonious beauty.

“Is that the Holy White Shield Knights led by Albert? Old friends indeed.”

A young man in a black and red noble cloak put down his telescope and spoke to the general beside him.

“Lord Panside, with Albert leading the garrison, it might take us quite some time to capture this place,” responded a mounted general. He wore a black cloak, rode a chestnut horse adorned with armor, and donned imperial-style metal armor.

“Well, it will be troublesome, but only a bit. This time, I won’t let this fellow escape. At least I need to cripple him before I can rest easy.”

Panside recalled the retreat battle at the Enlightenment Fortress last year, where he encountered Albert. The latter had obstructed him for a long time, preventing him from achieving much success.

This incident had cost Panside much face among the nobility, leaving him with a grudge. Now, encountering this man again, he intended to exact revenge.

“Bring out the mage cannons dragged by the newly surrendered mages. It’s their turn to shine.”

“Yes, my lord!” A messenger saluted and rode off toward the rear.

—

Meanwhile, on the outskirts of the Tixilam Mountains:

In the complex forest, scouts clad in black swiftly moved, tasked with gathering intelligence for the advancing army.

Unlike ordinary scouts, these were elite troops from Earl Black Pine’s private army, the ‘Viper Blade Corps,’ each at Sequence 4 or higher.

Leading the troops from behind was Earl Black Pine of the Crimson Empire, who had dispatched this elite force to gather information.

Months ago, when the Crimson Empire’s army crossed the hills on the border, this scout corps played a crucial role in leading the empire’s forces through Clancia’s numerous ambushes and obstacles, ensuring they did not fall behind in intelligence.

Now, facing the complex terrain around the Sighing Mountains, Duke Red Dragon ordered Earl Black Pine to lead the eastern army, utilizing the strengths of this private army.

“Report, Lord, the area within ten miles has been scouted and is safe for travel.”

Amid the advancing troops, Earl Black Pine paused his horse to listen to the scout’s report.

“Excellent. This time we must capture the Tixilam Mountains. Rumor has it that many of Clancia’s armaments are produced in hidden factories in the mountains. Occupying these would be a great achievement and honor.”

After giving his orders, the earl whipped the reins, and his warhorse neighed loudly before galloping forward.

The fresh breeze from the forest was soothing, and his black cloak billowed behind him. The earl began to imagine the glorious scene of victory.

—

In the Windhowl Province, the central battlefield:

Countless banners and lances pierced the sky, filled with the sounds of artillery and clashing weapons. Steel and blood formed walls that advanced like endless tides.

In the sky, dragons flew and spun, occasionally blocking the sun, casting shadows and flames upon the earth.

“Glorious and holy domain, reveal yourself now!”

Behind the lines, white-robed priests closed their eyes in prayer, summoning hexagonal light shields that floated low to defend against the descending fire.

High above, a black and red dragon soared among the other dragons.

Dragon Sequence 8 · Black Flame Inferno Dragon (Rare Crystal Tier)

In this transformed world, this Sequence 8 dragon had become nearly invincible, dominating the skies at will.

During the siege of the Enlightenment Fortress, it was due to this dragon’s presence that the Bao Kong Lethal Armor Dragon of the Crescent Moon Council was ultimately defeated by the Bloodwing Red Dragon Knights, suffering severe losses.

Could history repeat itself?

Ignoring the concerns of the rear commanders, the battlefield saw the two armies clash fiercely. Black and red feathered warriors fought against white and gold flag bearers, blood splattering everywhere, accompanied by desperate cries and shouts.

On this dense front, the two armies collided like waves, with no gaps, no room for maneuver, and no space for strategy—only a brutal struggle for survival.

Every lance thrust forward aimed to pierce the enemy’s body; every sword strike intended to take a life. Hot blood mixed with dust, rolling onto the ground. Individual lives seemed fragile and insignificant, crushed mercilessly by the wheels of war.

As the red dragons flew, the sky gradually darkened with dark red clouds, pouring down scorching flames that turned the soldiers below into burning charcoal.

Facing the endless black tide of enemies, the hearts of Clancia’s soldiers sank deeper.

How many more enemies must they kill? How long must they endure to end this nightmarish red and black?

A soldier pulled out a short sword from an enemy’s body, thick blood trickling down his hand, filling his senses with a pungent stench, suffocating and despairing.

Though trained rigorously and experienced in battle, seeing familiar faces fall and feeling increasingly weak and disoriented, he sensed the limits of his endurance.

Yet, there was no end in sight. After killing one enemy, another came forth.

Unlike the Frost Alliance, the Crimson Empire’s army possessed high combat morale. You could call it blind fanaticism or ignorant madness, but it undoubtedly kept the army’s fighting power high.

They did not consider themselves evil. In the empire’s cultural tradition, conquering and defeating enemies was a source of pride. Achieving the dream of unifying the continent by conquering Snowhua Seven Kingdoms was a grand and sacred cause, something to be proud of even centuries later.

Expanding territory and establishing titles was the dream of countless imperial men. Now, this dream was ignited by the emperor, burning like a flame.

“War, blood—this crown woven from thorns, you shall wear it yourselves! If you wish to prove your lineage and glory, then advance, cut off the enemies’ heads, seize their flags, and revel in the feast of life!”

A nobleman in deep red cloak stood on the hill, brandishing his sword and roaring. Armored warriors marched forward amidst the blaze of war.

The white banner with star patterns on the ground was gradually stained with blood and trampled into dust, covered in dirt.

(End of Chapter)