More than a week had passed, yet the recruitment continued in haste. The temporary barracks were packed with people. The numbers kept increasing, but the quality remained unchanged. The camps were filled with laughter and chatter . It was more like a festival than a place seriously preparing for war. Strangely, the officers did not seem to care much. The truly elite soldiers were not trained here, but deep inside the fortress of Loket, far from the sight of Golden’s scouts watching from the distant Infernic range.

  In a fortress near Allblack, Net sat in contemplation at his desk, surrounded by the core members of Golden Fang. They had received an important piece of intelligence that Hesmor was recruiting soldiers in massive numbers within a short time. According to the observations and estimates of the scouts stationed at Infernic, the number had already reached twenty thousand and was still growing.

  “Absurd! To recruit more than twenty thousand troops in just a week is impossible. Even if they did, they would be nothing but a rabble. Without even counting the training time, the process of screening and forging weapons alone would take a lot of time,” said a scar-faced man.

  He was Terax, one of GoldenFang’s high-ranking commanders in charge of defending Allblack. Having once participated in recruitment himself, he could confirm from experience that Hesmor was playing tricks. Although the Golden Fang army numbered less than ten thousand, if they were to clash directly with Hesmor’s untrained troops, he was confident he could annihilate the entire force without losing a single soldier. GoldenFang was a branch family split from “SilverFang" .Though they had changed their name, their tradition remained. The warriors of Golden Fang highly valued speed. Unlike BloodClaw, who relied on wolf mounts, the Golden Fang warriors themselves possessed speed far superior to any other tribe. They were responsible for reconnaissance, communication, and appearing in every corner of Golden like the second pair of eyes of Richer.

  Indeed, just as Terax had said, even if they had overwhelming numbers, the army of Hesmor could not possibly defeat the elite warriors of Golden. Not to mention, they were already familiar with the harsh climate and terrain here. Infernic was a mountain range brimming with fire elements and filled with terrifying beasts. Cerberus was among them unlike the ones domesticated in kennels, the wild Cerberus were immensely powerful. Each individual could rival a Battle King, and their king was said to be as strong as an Emperor.

  Net burst into hearty laughter, lightening the atmosphere. The other commanders also laughed along in agreement.

  “I’ve really been overthinking,” Net said, grinning. “Indeed! Even with more soldiers, would they dare launch a frontal attack? The answer is no! The cliffs of Infernic are a natural fortress. They would be forced to march toward Fogger fortress, and even without counting time, the cost of supplies alone would drain them of fortune and resources. Truly foolish, ha ha ha!”

  Suddenly, a voice cut through the laughter.

  “What if they cross the sea, my lord? Look here! They could anchor their ships, cross the Black Sea, and enter the Valley of Death, then move along the DarkWood Forest and attack us from behind.”

  Net frowned. He had heard those words somewhere before. Ah yes! It was exactly what Nash had once said. Of course, Net did not believe the enemy would be mad enough to attempt such a thing. What he truly wanted was to wear down the strength of BloodClaw, nothing more. After all, even among the great houses, competition still existed. Net looked at the young officer. Everyone present here was a solid pillar of Golden Fang. After Richer’s cleansing, the core force of the family had been greatly depleted. Net did not mind sharing more knowledge with the new generation.

  “The Black Sea and the Valley of Death are extremely peculiar places. They have existed for a very, very long time, even before the ancient era. People say that it is the place where wandering souls of the world gather, waiting for the ferryman to lead them to the underworld. It is said to be under the protection of Vel’Haen, the old god of souls and death. Countless powerful beings once tried to pass through that region, yet none of them ever returned.”

  “Therefore, if they want to set sail, they must move across the waters of Eldloss Sea, taking a long curved route to avoid the range of the Black Sea, and finally land near the Blackmist town. But the problem is...”

  Net pointed toward the sea area that the Hesmor army would have to pass on the hypothetical route. Nearby was the symbol of a gigantic tree, The Tree World.

  “The area they would pass through lies within the territory of the Elf. What do you think those arrogant pointy-ears would say when a massive army marches into their land?”

  “So that’s how it is, Commander!” the young officer nodded in realization.

  Golden, in terms of trade, had once cooperated with the Elves though, of course, not with the Dark Despair weapon. They were particularly fond of jewelry, crafts, and the minerals from the Emerald Mountains, especially the clothes and green serpent-leather belts that were unique to the region. Net had reason to believe that the Elves would not easily turn their backs or stand against them.

  “Alright! Everyone, dismiss! Continue monitoring the situation. This is a test of endurance whoever loses patience will fail first. Keep a close eye on the BloodClaw territory; that will be the center of the battle. If the army of Hesmor shows any sign of attacking, report to me immediately. I will handle the countermeasures myself. Now, dismiss.”

  In the military camp of Loket, Thane, drenched in sweat, gripped the heavy sword and swung its crude, weighty blade toward Exitus. His steps were unsteady, his breathing ragged, he quickly ran out of strength and collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air.

  Exitus smiled nostalgically. The scene was so familiar; it reminded him of the time Nashor had trained him while they traveled through the Darkwood Forest. He had designed for Thane a heavy weapon with no edge. It was simply a massive block of steel fixed to a hilt. When he first asked the blacksmith to forge it, the man had looked at him as if he were insane. Only when Thane swung it through the air with surprising ease did the blacksmith finally close his mouth.

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  “Your advantage is strength,” Exitus said. “You should make use of it rather than chase after fancy techniques. It will take a long time before you can wield mana. I can’t help you break the seal.”

  Thane fell silent. He knew it wasn’t that Exitus couldn’t. It was that he wouldn’t. Exitus had told him that breaking the seal would alert the one who cast it, and he had no intention of getting involved in unnecessary trouble. Days passed, what Exitus taught him were sword techniques, how to control his breathing, and knowledge about the outside world. Those who could sense mana and use it to enhance their bodies were called fighter, the most common rank. Yet even a fighter was many times stronger than a normal person; they could easily kill someone like Thane in battle.

  Thane thought of his grandfather. If he wasn’t mistaken, his grandfather was quite a powerful warrior. Even within the same rank, there was a difference in fighting capability. His uncle could cut down a big tree in one strike, he called the technique "Mana Focusing". It was a skill one must master to advance to the next level Warlord. Unfortunately, his uncle’s body was too old to strengthen again; he said he had realized the technique too late. Thane sighed in sorrow, he had no mana to even begin learning it.

  Exitus sensed Thane’s discouragement. The boy quietly approached and reached up to pat Thane’s head. It was awkward, being comforted by a child younger than himself, yet in theory, that boy was his teacher.

  “Don’t worry. I have a friend who can help you break the seal. Before long, you’ll be able to sense mana yourself. Besides…” Exitus smiled faintly. “Who said focusing power must only be done with mana?”

  Exitus grasped Thane’s heavy sword and spun it lightly in the air as if it were made of cotton. From his body, a powerful energy enveloped the weapon, radiating an oppressive aura.

  Boom!

  Exitus swung it down hard, and the ground split open in a deep crack that stretched all the way to the entrance of the camp. The shockwave stirred up clouds of dust.

  “Cough… cough…”

  Thane coughed violently, waving away the dust. When he finally saw the scene before him, his eyes gleamed with excitement. He turned to Exitus, face burning with fervor.

  “How about that? Impressive, isn’t it?” Exitus said with a smirk. “That’s not mana. That’s Will. The same energy you used when you first caught my attention. Think of it as a liquid, coat your sword with it, and you can amplify the destructive power of your strikes, no weaker than "Mana Focusing".”

  Thane nodded repeatedly, then closed his eyes, trying to summon the Will within him. After the ordeal of the nightmare, his Will had grown much stronger. Yet to wrap such a massive sword in it was incredibly difficult. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to try but his mind grew dizzy, and his body began to tremble. “Thud.”Thane fell, unconscious perhaps one day he would be able to use it; only not yet. Exitus shook his head, dragged Thane's legs, and tossed him onto the sleeping mat.

  Suddenly a cold, gloomy voice sounded by his ear.

  “My lord! Why did you train this boy? He is a champion; he may become our enemy in the future,” Valen asked his master in a strange tone.

  As the official successor of Madenes, Exitus was destined to be the enemy of all Veynar. Valen had lived a very long time since the era of the Dark God, back when he was a frail human sorcerer. He had witnessed the legendary god-slaying battle with his own eyes, when his former master, the NewBorn God Madenes, was defeated by the alliance of champions of the races.

  Among those heroes, the strongest and most valiant was the champion of humanity, the king of Greaton at that time, Helion - The Great Emperor, the first wielder of the sword Fearless, who plunged the legendary blade into Madenes’s heart, ending the reign of the Dark God.

  “Why should I be afraid? I am not Madenes; I will not be defeated. Besides, even if I were Madenes, I would not do that. I am certain of it.” Exitus smiled calmly.

  “Why, my lord? Isn’t crushing danger in the egg a wise act?” Valen still asked perplexedly.

  “Because if I did that, what fun would there be?” Exitus chuckled lightly, his face full of confidence.

  The recruitment drive ended, and Loket had mobilized a force of over 30,000 soldiers, that was not including 20,000 elite troops.

  On the vast city walls, Coeur nodded approvingly, this force was already sufficient to launch an attack on Golden. Yet he felt a pang of sorrow as he looked toward a small black ship in the distance, carrying his most precious slaves. Coeur sighed heavily; it was best if Jacor kept his promise. Those slaves were extremely rare, and he had deliberated for a long time before deciding to use them.

  The Loket army was organized and divided into two groups. The elite soldiers were quickly equipped with armor and weapons, boarding the warships, which were heavily armed and reinforced with anti-magic formations. In contrast, the the untrained soldiers were crammed into transport ships in suffocating conditions.

  The fleet moved swiftly through the night but could not escape the surveillance of the Golden Fang forces. The news quickly reached Net. The clan leader smiled coldly and hastily contacted the Elves stationed in the western Eldloss Sea, warning them that a large force was rapidly approaching their border region.

  A thin mist spread across the ancient forest, the cold moonlight shining down upon the towering crowns of giant trees. Beneath the deep green grass, the Ents lay sprawled upon the ground, basking in the gentle, tranquil air of the dark night.

  Aeryn swayed lazily on a hammock woven from leaves, his eyes half-closed as he hummed a soft, melodious tune. The Elf lay there in leisure, a noble among his kind who never had to lift a finger, for servants tended to his every need. Even the duty of standing guard was beneath him; such tasks were left entirely to his soldiers.

  The Elves were a noble race, governed by a most rigid hierarchy. Both the men and women of this race were beautiful like angels, with fair, flawless skin and deep black eyes. They cherished peace and loved nature, yet that did not mean they were weak before hostile forces. On the contrary, the Elves were a race of formidable might.

  Aeryn gazed into the distance at an enormous tree, a colossal being reaching into the heavens, its vast canopy spreading endlessly. Around it flowed pure mana, shimmering with a soft blue light. It was the World Tree, the very embodiment of infinite energy. Suddenly, a black raven swooped down beside Aeryn. The bird curled in midair and swiftly transformed into an aged Druid. The Druid bowed respectfully before Aeryn, then delivered an urgent report.

  “Lord Aeryn, the Golden have sent word. A large number of human warships and soldiers are moving toward the borders of our realm. They claim these are the invaders of their land, and they hope our people, out of friendship, will prevent them from crossing the Eldloss Sea.”

  Aeryn was far too lazy to care. He couldn’t be bothered about the Golden or whatever nonsense was approaching. All he knew was that the borders of the Elves were sacred and inviolable. Anything that threatened the safety of the World Tree was to be eradicated.

  “Golden? They need not remind us! Whoever sets foot in Elven territory shall face punishment. I care not what their purpose is. Summon the troops, the moment they appear within sight, strike them down as a warning.”

  The Druid nodded, transforming once more into a raven and flying off into the night.

  “Humans… a race of deceit and cowardice.” Aeryn smirked disdainfully.