Chapter 951: Act 122 – The Appearance (Part 1)
On the continent of Vaunte, the mortal lifespan may witness countless extraordinary phenomena, but for the guards at Ruin Port, whether in the past or in the future, they may never forget all that they saw after noon on this day:
Black clouds gathered on the horizon, as if a storm was brewing. However, this storm was not lifeless; the hearts within the bodies of the dragon beasts pulsated powerfully, their deep breaths mixed with wind, thunder, and flames, and their resilient wings beat as if the entire black sea surface surged each time. They were not dragons, yet they carried an unmatched might. It is said that when the empire’s Golden Eagle Cavalry launched a collective charge, the scene was like a descent from heaven, stirring and uplifting; yet it also caused their enemies to tremble in fear. But at this very moment, as the dragon beasts launched their attack, the cavalry of humanity seemed like a mere grain of sand before them, any semblance of might vanished without a trace.
At the walls of Ruin Port, the soldiers atop every tower were straining to sound the alarm, as if failing to do so would cause them to collapse in fear, losing all strength. The clanging warning echoed through the skies, and atop the walls, the officers of the harbor garrison watched with parched mouths as the scene unfolded before them. The last time the dragon beasts attacked, they had stormed down from above the clouds, directly into the harbor, burning all the ships before departing. Today’s terror was far more visceral and immediate.
Everyone understood that these monsters were coming straight for them; the entire Ruin Port would be reduced to ashes beneath their flames.
At that moment, the sky above the harbor seemed to split distinctly into two sides. One side was clear and bright, half of the sky flickering with ghostly white light, as silvery warships transitioned from illusion to reality, albeit at an agonizingly slow pace. On the other side was an oppressive dark red sky; the heat and flames stirred by the dragon beasts as they flew appeared to burn through the clouds, igniting the entire horizon. The air was filled with a nauseating, acrid scent of sulfur that assaulted human senses, and as the starkly different scenes merged in the center, a bright fissure seemed to form, resembling a rift in space. In truth, it was merely a visual illusion created by color contrast; this bright strip slowly closed in on the entire harbor, foretelling the arrival of final judgment in everyone’s hearts.
The movement of the dragon beasts was faster than anticipated; in the blink of an eye, the dark specks on the horizon grew larger. Moments later, it seemed even the scales on their wings became visible, their hollow eye sockets staring with vacant eyes and exposed teeth sending chills of dread into the hearts of those who beheld them. Before the fire and clouds swept over the city walls, the guards of Ruin Port were already shaken in spirit, retreating in groups from the towers, and no one sought to stop them. At this moment, everyone was filled with despair—this minuscule force of humanity was utterly insignificant before such power; even the dragon beasts didn’t need to launch an attack; merely flying past the walls could turn them to ashes.
Although some remained, it was not out of courage but rather the realization that no one could escape. This harbor had already transformed into a prison for life.
Vasily looked down from above, witnessing the despair of the entire imperial army. However, he did not disdain his colleagues’ cowardice; in the face of absolute power, all bravery was pale and meaningless. At this moment, nothing they did could make a difference. The towers roared and trembled, the stones used to construct them crumbling away, rolling down to the ground, while fire and tempest rushed in, then the towers began to tilt and collapse. Vasily lost his balance and fell heavily to the ground, watching helplessly as cracks opened up on the walls, silently taunting human frailty. He could not help but drop the rope that connected him to the bronze bell overhead; his hands were bloodied but unscathed, his vision filled with a sea of flames, then one great beast after another soared from the inferno.
It was the dragons.
The walls of Ruin Port did little to impede them, barely delaying them in the slightest. The dragon beasts swiftly swept over the plains outside the walls, spreading their wings and flying over, setting everything in their path ablaze. Their target was clear—the silver fleet that was being transported in mid-air. Brendel’s apprentice mages had cast the anchor points, but the teleportation was far from complete. The first to arrive were the lightly armored patrol ships, which, upon reaching Ruin Port, directly sailed out of their berths. They were slender vessels, akin to willows, and sported large triangular sails woven from wind materials, making them quick and agile enough to swiftly form a half-spherical defensive formation in the sky.
At that moment, the Cruz nobles and officials on the bridge realized that those standing on the decks of the patrol ships were not individuals from Bud, but dark-haired or brown-haired humans—Erluin people clad in navy uniforms. These Erluin individuals were methodically controlling the sailing vessels on the deck, manipulating the sails and issuing commands. Heavily armored knights, clad in silver armor and wielding three-meter-long lances, had already lined the ship’s sides, ready to combat any enemies descending from the sky. The armor worn by the knights was reminiscent of that worn by the entourage of the young Earl beside them.
Could this truly be a fleet of Erluin people?
Earl Orkans and his attendants were left speechless in shock.
Yet Brendel knew this was exactly the navy that Bud had trained for him according to their agreement, belonging to the navy of Valhalla. It was evident that Antinna and the Princess were collaborating quite well, and the efficiency of Bud’s people was impressive. This fleet exceeded his expectations—yet as a true army, this navy still had not seen bloodshed, comparable to a blade that had not been sharpened. But today, he hadn’t anticipated that the day of the navy’s formation would collide with a real battle, like a divine sword emerging from its sheath, a necessary trial to endure, though as an opening, the upcoming battle might prove to be rather brutal.
Brendel focused on the approaching dragon beasts, silently calculating his strategy.
No matter what, he would never expend all the seeds here—this was the embryonic form of Valhalla’s future navy. For a force that needed a historical foundation, a good start was incredibly vital. As a former player, he was well aware of how the large guilds trained their navies in the past.
At this moment, the captains on the patrol ships were saluting Brendel with flag signals, waiting for the lord to issue orders. Brendel nodded at them—what needed to be done was to stop the dragon beasts at all costs. This was the mission of these light ships that had arrived first on the battlefield, which was also the value of their existence—fast and agile, capable of completing teleportation in the shortest time possible, and possessing enough firepower to protect the entire fleet during the teleportation process. Although the situation was extreme, it showcased perfectly the duties that patrol ships fulfilled within the floating fleet.
Brendel’s signal was relayed through one flag after another; these light patrol ships began to fully unfurl their sails. Although the floating warships did not greatly differ in appearance from traditional sailing ships, they did not rely on wind power for propulsion; the large wind sails were crafted with wind weaves worth their weight in gold. This special material could gather the airborn wind elements as the power source for the ships. When they were fully deployed, it was akin to dozens of high-level mages pouring mana into magical propulsion devices, with this mana entering the ships’ power cores to propel them forward.
The patrol ships darted out like arrows, quickly reaching the airspace outside Ruin Port, forming a horizontal formation above the city. Although the Holy Covenant on the continent rarely allowed floating fleets to engage in battles above cities, there was clearly no time for such considerations; their enemies would hardly pause to negotiate. For the underground inhabitants of Jotungrund, the Holy Covenant was practically disregarded.
Everyone raised their heads to gaze at the elongated crescent in the sky. Even the most obstinate of harbor officials had silenced, and before the impending death, even the proudest of individuals put aside their biases. The square of the harbor was eerily quiet; whether nobles or harbor officials, or even commoners—no matter if they were Cruzian, Erluin, or any other race, including mountain dwellers and several foreign adventurers—they all closed their mouths.
Everyone understood that their lives were now closely bound to this thin defense line; half the city had already become a sea of fire. Even the previously loquacious and corpulent man, Afram, finally realized this. The fierce dragon beasts would not spare them merely because they were nobles; to them, they were no different from the burning stones and timber. They had to face a predicament similar to that which Earl Orkans had encountered before—the so-called preferential treatment of nobles in the wars of Vaunte seemed to have vanished with the invasion of these underground monsters.
Nobles regarded war as a matter of honor, but now they were forced to confront the struggle for survival, as barbarism stripped away the false veneer of warmth, leaving only the naked, primal laws.
Everyone’s faces turned pale, a chill rising from deep within.
The corpulent Afram’s legs quivered, but at least on the surface, this second-generation heir from the Elsen family was demonstrating more composure than the majority of Cruzian nobles present. The Cruz nobles had once held a deep-seated sense of superiority over the Erluin nobility, a feeling founded on the empire’s overwhelming power, rendering anyone unable to rebut. It was disheartening. But now, they were forced to rely on the Erluin people to cling to life, a notion that granted Afram a sliver of confidence. Even though he was frightened half to death, a strange emotion began to stir within him:
Even the mighty Cruz were in disarray in this desperate environment, while the Erluin still resisted the powerful enemies—
Once a spark of pride is ignited, it takes root deep within. The history of Erluin, survivors of tribulations led by the ancestors like Eke, flooded Afram’s mind with images of pride and honor. The vivid banners flashed before his eyes like the ocean, engraved into his memory.
The corpulent man opened his mouth, suddenly feeling a heaviness that caused him to struggle to breathe.
In the air, the fierce battle had just begun.
The patrol ships in formation flashed with countless intricate magic formations; rockets, ice arrows, and sharp cyclones converged above the dragon beasts, and a magical storm spontaneously generated. Countless spells crossed nearly a thousand meters, raining down like raindrops on the dragon herd. Brendel smiled inwardly at this scene, thinking that Bud’s people would indeed not be able to cultivate so many human mages in such a short time. It appeared that this so-called “fleet of Erluin people” was purely for show; those mages and gunners hidden in the cannon chambers beneath the decks were likely genuine Bud people.
Thankfully, Tanya and William still had enough sense to consider appearances. Most of the mages stationed on this fleet were apprentices from the academy; otherwise, even if their faces were thick-skinned, they could not explain how Erluin could suddenly possess a whole fleet of formal mages. However, at this moment, Brendel hoped that Bud’s people could be even thicker-skinned; at least that way, he wouldn’t need to go through so much trouble to achieve victory.
The apprentices’ magic, under the vibrations of the magic formations on the floating warships, nearly had the power of formal mages, yet it remained difficult to penetrate the dragon beasts’ tough hides and scales. Some beasts were indeed injured, but they only slowed down. After a round of magical attacks, not a single dragon beast fell from the sky; on the contrary, seizing the opportunity provided by human attacks, the monsters once again closed the gap between them and the patrol fleet.
The hearts of everyone in the port square felt as if they had leaped to their throats.
In their eyes, the thin line of defense put up by the Erluin fleet, both in terms of manifested power and visual effect, was hardly comparable to the dragon herd resembling dark clouds. They were not just swarms of buzzing mosquitoes, but genuine Level Seven creatures. As everyone watched, the rolling dark clouds finally collided with that silver crescent, and at that moment, the sides of the silver patrol fleet suddenly radiated a blinding white light.
This time it was no longer the weak magic of the apprentice mages, but magical artillery. The captains of the patrol fleet endured until the last moment before ordering to fire. One cannon after another swung open, towering purple crystals erupted from their mouths. The mages began to channel their magic, and within just a few breaths, the entire side of the fleet erupted with a deafening roar that echoed through the air, the side’s firepower roaring to life—white beams of light surged like blades into the dragon herd. This time, these creatures from the underground of Jotungrund were far less fortunate; in an instant, their wings were pierced, or their bodies directly struck through, shrieking as they fell from the sky, showering the ground with a murky rain of blood.
The carnage in the air lasted a full ten breaths, the continuous rain of light nearly forming a vast net. Inside the captain’s room, beside each Erluin captain stood a Bud man in silver military attire and a thick beard, narrowing his eyes to observe the scene outside. The terrifying magic appeared weak to these men, akin to mere fireworks in their eyes; the dragon beasts struck by these fireworks came apart like moths to a flame. After watching for a while, they spoke indifferently:
“It’s still a bit too early. In Bud, even the lower-tier fleets can hold fire until the last five hundred feet. For the firepower on patrol ships, this is the most effective kill zone.”
On hearing this, the Erluin captains could not help but flush with embarrassment, having trained for nearly four months, only for their first battle to result in such a blunder.
However, the Bud instructor shook his head: “But according to Bud tradition, after four months of training, you are at most equivalent to intermediate students of the naval academy. As far as student performance goes, this is still a decent outcome. You possess excellent talent and should aspire to be the best navy in the mortal world.”
Upon hearing this, the captains’ expressions improved, and they began to feel a glimmer of hope; the best navy in the mortal world had always belonged to the empire, to the wind elves and the Crusian, when would it be Erluin’s turn? However, now, such an opportunity was placed before them, and it seemed not so unattainable; all of it was attributed to the man who brought miracles to Erluin. In fact, even this fleet itself was already a miracle.
This fleet belonged to the ancient kingdom, and on this fleet, there were not only young people from Toniger. Toniger could not gather so many outstanding talents; in fact, a significant portion among them had been summoned from all provinces throughout the kingdom by Princess Grifian—regardless of their backgrounds, everyone had the same opportunities to stand here, witnessing and even participating in the birth of this fleet.
For these young people, the miracle created by Brendel, the ancient honor of the Erluin kingdom, had long been intertwined with them, sharing a common fate; an honor shared is an honor earned, a loss shared is a loss mourned.
And at this moment, facing the surging dragon herd, they felt not fear, but a warrior’s instinct surging from deep within their blood.
They would fight side by side with the legendary Bud people, and regardless of how the final outcome turned out, merely by participating in today’s battle, they would be etched into the annals of history alongside Erluin.
The Bud instructor rapped his knuckles against the glass of the porthole to call these fervent young captains back from their daydreams; he was familiar with such scenes, where young apprentices would become bloodthirsty before their first battle, but soon they would be fully immersed in the discipline of Bud people. A fleet required precise operation, not a charge fueled solely by hot blood. Nevertheless, the sensation of returning to youth was always nice; he stroked his thick beard, pointing to the dragon herd still advancing outside the porthole and said, “Don’t celebrate too early; this degree of attack is nothing for Level Seven creatures. A bloody battle is yet to come. As captains of the patrol fleet, you must hold this defense line until the entire fleet arrives, and then launch a counterattack—”
The young captain nodded sternly, but at that moment, he hesitated slightly.
“What’s the matter?” the Bud instructor noticed the abnormality of his apprentice.
“…The lord ordered us to retreat.”
“Retreat?”
