### Chapter 0: Southern Line (3)
After over a thousand years of battling on the Southern Line, the Imperial Legions have become quite the experts on the types and habits of the beasts.
The biggest quirk of these beasts? Every season, regardless of gender, they turn into the ultimate party animals—aggressive, rowdy, and their strength spikes like they just chugged a magic energy drink!
During this time of year, the Imperial Legions kick their alertness into overdrive, operating at a staggering one hundred twenty percent, ready to tackle beast ambushes.
Fortunately, these beasts don’t enjoy mass gatherings; when they attack, it’s usually in small family units, like a bunch of rowdy cousins sneaking into the fridge.
So when faced with a mere dozen or two dozen beasts, the Imperial Legions usually hold their ground—at least that’s the plan!
Now, don’t get me wrong, casualties are unavoidable in beast combat. There’s always a portion of soldiers who either get horribly mangled or kicked off the mortal coil. After all, these beasts come armed with a chaotic buffet of attack styles—magic, physical, toxic various entertaining options.
Those fresh-faced recruits recently sent to the Southern Line typically get their first taste of real combat through a delightful bloodbath. Only the ones who make it out are worthy of the esteemed title of veteran.
In early spring, the beast brigade tends to multiply like rabbits on a sugar high.
Based on previous years’ experiences, swarms of beast tribes attacking the Imperial fortress were expected to pop up like weeds.
But shockingly, an entire week passed without a single beast sighting at the fortress. This surely set off some serious alarm bells among the Imperial high-ups.
Could it be that these beasts finally decided to ghost them?
Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves; perhaps the beasts just shifted their attention elsewhere for a breather. They’ll be back before you can say “endless siege!”
Just when the Imperial Legions were starting to sweat bullets, the beasts finally arrived at the fortress front. But this time, the shock was enough to make even the most hardened soldier suddenly feel like a quivering bowl of jelly.
Thousands of beasts came rushing in like an unstoppable wave.
“Run! Report to Your Majesty! Now!”
A dozen messengers were off like jackrabbits, galloping towards the Imperial Capital.
Yet, right as they dashed away from the fortress, a dark cloud of winged beasties, looking suspiciously like pterodactyls, swooped down from the sky.
They dived down, wings stirring up a monstrous wind, launching flaming projectiles from their maws and turning the hapless messengers into fiery shooting stars.
“Ahhh!”
The messengers scattered in sheer panic.
These veterans had never encountered so many flying beasts congregating together like this. Their attacks? Unprecedented!
In mere moments, almost all the messengers were wiped out, with only one lucky soul escaping the fiery onslaught, dashing into the nearby woods.
Meanwhile, a few small beasts leapt off their winged companions, eager to chase down that messenger like a game of tag gone horribly wrong.
The messenger rode like the wind, pushing his horse until it collapsed, throwing him to the ground with a thud.
It had been less than two hours since he left the fortress.
Feeling dejected, he thought, “If I d*e, the news of the fortress being overrun will take days to reach the powers that be. By then, those beasts will have trampled over everything, and the Imperial Army may as well be sipping tea while all hell breaks loose.”
But that wasn’t the worst of it. When he turned back to look, two small beasts, about the size of foals yet twice as terrifying, were stomping toward him.
At that moment, he realized precisely what kind of nightmare awaited him. To take down those little horrors, he’d need at least three A-rank warriors teaming up!
And here he was, all alone with a wounded leg.
The outcome? Pretty clear.
The Empire might as well pack its bags and call it a day, especially when those two little beasts unleashed shrill cries as they closed in. He despairingly shut his eyes.
But wait! Just at that dramatic climax, a gust of wind surged past him, knocking those two wannabe assassins back.
Simultaneously, a soft green light enveloped his injured leg, and in a daze, he swore he heard the faint sound of a harp.
When he regained his senses, he saw a familiar figure, someone he deeply respected, interposed between him and the beasts.
Joy swept through him, nearly bringing tears to his eyes.
“It’s General Konglif!”
General Konglif was one of the rare S-rank warriors in the border army. Unlike those aristocrats lounging in the Imperial Capital, this man led from the frontlines, brave and bold. Under his command, cowardice was about as common as a unicorn sighting.
Though the messenger wasn’t one of his direct subordinates, General Konglif’s reputation preceded him.
A year ago, when Konglif was re-assigned to the Imperial Capital, soldiers were so upset, you could hear their wails up in the clouds, convinced they lost their strongest backbone.
And now, with beasts flocking toward the border in droves, here he was, back at the front lines! It was enough to send the messenger into a whirlwind of emotions.
What surprised him even more? A long-skirted woman, floating like a fairy, delicately stepped onto a twig without making a sound and began plucking at her four-stringed harp.
With every note she played, not only did his wounds begin to mend, but it was as if General Konglif was powered up, slicing through those pesky little beasts as if they were mere vegetables.
“General! We’ve got a situation up front! A massive beast horde’s attacking! The fortress can’t hold for long!”
The messenger urged.
Konglif’s expression turned serious. “You need to report this. Request support from the Imperial Capital. Edith, let him use your horse.”
Edith nodded without a second thought.
“Count on me, General!”
The messenger leaped onto the horse and took off like a bat out of hell toward the Imperial Capital.
As spring settled in, and the forest shimmered with green, Konglif stood tall, shouldering his heavy sword and gazing southward.
Even though it was still half a day’s journey to the fortress, he thought he could faintly hear the sounds of battle from the frontlines.
“Sorry for dragging you into this whirlwind right when you got here,” said Edith, putting down her harp and gracefully landing beside him.
“No worries! The Lord Messenger once said, a harpist is born for combat, not just to be an ornamental flower in a temple. To truly understand a profession, one must shed bl**d.”
Konglif gritted his teeth. “Alright, but you must stick close to me!”
“Of course! I won’t leave your side for even a second!”
