Todd handed the battle report to Evie and lowered his head to think.

Judging by the timeline, the Froststone army's defeat must have occurred a week ago.

The failure to capture Ulster's capital, and the crushing defeat of Cú Chulainn in his tyrannical form, will inevitably severely damage the morale of all the major warbands.

The course of the battle was not hard to predict. The Ulster army seized the opportunity to launch a major counterattack, the Connaughts followed their allies and took advantage of the situation, and the Froststone chapter commanders could only lead their remaining troops to abandon the conquered territory and retreat to the nearest stronghold—Ronka Fortress—to adopt a defensive posture.

Having figured all this out, Todd straightened up and said to Evie, "I have to go to Fort Ronga."

Ivy tucked the battle report into her bosom and walked toward the temple, saying, "Wait for me, I'll go with you. I'll go fetch my griffin now."

Halfway there, Evie turned to Todd and asked, "What about Alfonso? Is he coming along too?"

“No, let him and the Royal Guard stay in Froststone City…” Todd pondered for a moment, then suddenly said, “Take Randall with us and let him go to the battlefield.”

Evie stared at Todd for a while before finally nodding.

The enormous black dragon slowly rose into the air amidst the worship of tens of thousands of believers in Froststone City, followed by four manned griffins, flying swiftly towards the northern battlefield.

Flying over verdant forests and babbling rivers, skimming over golden fields and tranquil lakes, Todd finally caught sight of the outline of the Jungka Fortress.

This fortress, built by the Ulsters, sits atop a mountain valley and is the last stronghold on the way to the Ulster capital.

Surprisingly, the fortress has now fallen into the hands of Froststone City, while the allied forces of Ulster and Connaught, consisting of two kingdoms and numbering over ten thousand, are launching wave after wave of attacks on Junka Fortress.

Such is the way of the world; life is like a play.

Dodging arrows flying overhead, Ackerman, covered in blood and with a horrifying wound on his face, pressed his hand tightly against the wound on Casper's chest, shouting, "Brother! Look at me, look at me! Damn it! Don't close your eyes!"

Kasper, a knight who was once a soldier of the Holy Guard, once abandoned his faith and succumbed to slaughter. Now, facing death, he laughed with pleasure.

Seeing the wounds he was pressing with his hands, still gushing blood, Ackerman's usual nonchalant and playful demeanor vanished. He roared with all his might, "Kasper! What are you laughing at! Save your energy and live!"

“My life has been quite interesting. I was abandoned by my country, betrayed by my superiors, and even God no longer gave me hope…” Kasper’s lips were bubbling with blood. “I never imagined that during those days of being in hell, during the time when I turned into a beast to survive, I would encounter the last ray of light in my life.”

Ackerman, his eyes red, shouted, "Stop talking! The doctor's coming right away!"

Kasper grasped Ackerman's arm and said with a smile, "I feel neither fear nor sorrow now. My soul will return to the embrace of the gods. Believe me, brother, in that heaven, I will heed your advice..."

The light in Casper's eyes gradually dimmed, and his voice grew softer and softer: "I will heed your advice and try to smile more and talk more..."

Kasper's eyes slowly closed, and his hands fell limply to his sides.

Unable to believe what he was seeing, Ackerman let out a heart-wrenching roar. He knelt on the ground, overwhelmed with grief, clutching Casper's body tightly while burying his head in his chest, his whole body trembling uncontrollably.

After a moment, Ackerman stopped trembling. He silently put down the corpse in his hands, picked up the longsword beside him, and walked expressionlessly toward the city wall where the battle raged.

Pushing aside the warriors in front of him, Ackerman charged up the city wall with his longsword in hand, thrusting the sharp blade into the enemy's chest.

With a kick that sent the enemy, whose blade had pierced through it, crashing off the city wall, Ackerman saw a short axe coming down in his eyes. He neither dodged nor retreated, taking the blow head-on with his shoulder.

Hearing the sound of a shoulder blade shattering, Ackerman slashed his longsword forward, leaving a deep cut on the attacker's throat, allowing the enemy's blood to splatter onto himself.

As the third enemy soldier stormed the city wall, Ackerman wanted to raise his hand to retaliate again, but the wound on his shoulder made him too weak to lift his sword.

Watching the weapons fall from the sky, Ackerman closed his eyes, a slight smile playing on his lips, quietly awaiting death.

The expected pain did not come as expected. Ackerman opened his eyes, the incoming weapon stopped in mid-air, and the enemy in front of him opened his eyes wide, looked up, and let out a shrill scream.

"A dragon! It's a dragon!"

A massive black shadow loomed over the Junka Fortress, and a jet-black dragon descended atop the tower, its mouth churning with blinding crimson flames.

The enemy soldiers stared in disbelief at what they were seeing, all forgetting what they were about to do, too stunned to move.

A thick pillar of fire shot out from the black dragon's mouth, striking the edge of the city wall and melting the enemy soldiers who couldn't escape into charred corpses.

"Oh my god!" The soldiers of Ulster threw down their weapons, disregarding the height of the city wall, and jumped down from the top of the wall in a panic, scrambling to climb away on their hands and feet.

A thunderous cheer erupted from the Froststone army, with praises of the Son of the Gods rising and falling incessantly.

My dear reader, there's more to this chapter! Please click the next page to continue reading—even more exciting content awaits!