Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 693 - 692: Turning Point

The sky was overcast with dark clouds, and the wind carrying the damp scent of soil blew from the direction of the northern mountains. The dry leaves of autumn and tufts of grass were whipped up by the wind, spiraling and pattering against the clean windows of the train. Sir Philip stood inside the tactical command post of the Iron Throne, watching the wilderness and forests retreating past the window, his gaze calm.

Time matures a person, especially when that time is spent on the battlefield. Even the most inexperienced will be honed into a steady warrior. The once youthful and vigorous Cecil Knight had now become the highest commander of the Empire’s army, with his steadfast and reliable demeanor being his greatest asset. Standing quietly there, compared to four years ago, he seemed much more restrained in his brilliance.

The technical personnel were busy in front of the control panel of the Iron Throne, both operating this massive war machine and maintaining constant communication with the front lines and the rear. A Technical Sergeant recorded some data from nearby equipment and came to Philip’s side: ”General, the leading engineering train reports that the track has been closed. The temporary stop is ready, and the Iron Throne can proceed at full speed.”

Philip nodded: ”Proceed at full speed—is there any new situation at Longwind Fortress?”

”The Typhon haven’t made any additional moves. General Maryland continues on alert.”

Philip acknowledged with a sound, without saying much more.

He hadn’t expected that the Maryland Knight, who once upheld traditional knightly spirit at the rocky ridges Fortress and charged against the magic warship in a rather old-fashioned manner, would manage to frighten the Typhon at the border with a series of unexpected strategies. That knight, whose head seemed as hard as a stone, had finally learned cunning in this era of great change—although he hadn’t mastered the detailed intelligence of the series of operations at Longwind Fortress, from the information currently available, it wasn’t hard to guess what General Maryland had done.

However, such tactics could not permanently safeguard the border. To truly stop the Typhon, reliance on mobile fortresses like the Iron Throne was necessary.

As the highest commander of the army, Philip was currently tasked to personally lead a unit aboard the newly repaired Iron Throne en route to Longwind Fortress. The journey was already halfway complete.

Given the speed of this train, combined with the currently clear rail route, it wouldn’t take long to reach the destination.

The distant sky grew even gloomier, and the direction covered by dark clouds was at the eastern border. A predictable downpour was brewing, and according to the Druids’ calculations, the rain should cover the entire Longwind Defense Line.

However, this had no effect on the Iron Throne—as a cutting-edge mobile fortress, this armored train paid no heed to most of the wind and rain on land.

...

Cold winds blew against the high exterior walls of the towers at Winterwolf Fortress, where black flags fluttered fiercely. The knights on duty stood their posts dutifully, many of their gazes couldn’t help but drift toward the direction of Longwind Fortress, but all of their views could only end at watching.

The recall order from the imperial capital had been issued several days ago. Both the Empire’s knights and Mage Corps were stationed east of Winterwolf Fortress in accordance with the command. Although the atmosphere of confrontation remained tense, the seasoned veterans had already assessed the situation—a battle was unlikely to take place.

Atop the outer wall’s sentinel tower, a Mage canceled the bird’s eye, easing the fatigue from long monitoring. Another Mage aptly took over, and the bird’s eye magic symbols reappeared in the air above the sentinel tower. The relieved Mage rubbed his eyes while murmuring discontentedly, ”Just when the legion-level crystal array was brought here, they decide not to fight...”

”It’s an order. The superiors have their reasoning,” said the combat Mage next to him, who had been conserving his energy, opening his eyes expressionlessly, ”Besides, didn’t you see those positions? The Cecil Clan was clearly prepared—they dug a bunch of pits, do you really want to jump in?”

”...Ah...the higher-ups have their considerations, we soldiers shouldn’t think about it,” the Mage shook his head. A gust of cold wind blew, making him involuntarily shrink his neck. ”Brr...it really is autumn now; it’s getting colder.”

”Yes...autumn has come,” the combat Mage rose and snapped his fingers, summoning a Wind Shield to cover the top of the sentinel tower. He then glanced down in the direction of the castle’s main building. ”If General Andresha orders a retreat before the end of the month, we might still make it home for the All Souls Day.”

A fallen leaf drifted through the sentinels’ field of vision, swirling in the wind and landing within the fortress walls, settling on the commander of the fortress’s window sill.

The autumn wind lifted Andresha’s gray-white long hair. The young Wolf General raised her hand, brushing the gray hair from her face. Her eyes, revealed through the strands, bore a trace of unwillingness and gloom.

The adjutant stood in front of her, lowering his head to remind, ”General, His Majesty’s order has been issued several days ago. The Iron River Knights cannot remain on the Winterwolf Fortress Defense Line indefinitely—you should at least order them to return to the eastern camp, otherwise the domestic Noble Congress may criticize you on this issue...”

”Those guys in the congress will never understand how tense the border situation is,” Andresha irritably stood, interrupting her adjutant. ”Besides, I still feel something is off...everything fits too perfectly, one link leading to the next, with no logical issues, yet my intuition is warning me...”

As a Legion Commander, Andresha knew she shouldn’t use ”intuition” as a reason to explain problems—if she were an Astrologer or Spirit Mediums, it might be less problematic to say so, but she was a supernatural knight. She needed most to maintain rationality and caution, yet ever since the Cecil Clan reinforced the defense line, since the face-off pressure at the border began, a worsening anxiety had been affecting her emotions. Now with the recall order from the imperial capital and the Iron River Knights’ withdrawal order, that intuitive warning made her restless.

It was as if a voice was continuously telling her she was missing a critical moment that could change history.

The adjutant observed his superior exhibiting an unusual state compared to usual, and after a moment of silence and deliberation, the usually composed knight said, ”General, perhaps you should review the recent reinforcements records and the deployment situation of the Longwind Fortress?”

Andresha remained silent for a moment, then abruptly nodded: ”Bring the records—also the purchasing records of the Cecil Clan’s large caravans in several trading towns over the recent period.”

”Yes, Sir...” The adjutant nodded, but before he could finish his sentence, the sound of hurried footsteps and a few shouts came from outside the room. A slightly sharp voice was loudly calling in the corridor: ”I need to see General Andresha! It’s extremely urgent! Extremely urgent!”

”Who is it?” Andresha raised her head and said loudly, ”Let him in.”

The door was opened by the guards, and a middle-aged man, wearing a scholar’s robe, holding a stack of papers, and adorned with the Empire’s insignia, stumbled in. It seemed he had brushed through some conflict with the soldiers while making his way in, appearing somewhat disheveled. Yet, as he waved those papers in front of Andresha, his voice was clear: ”General! There is a problem with the Cecil Clan’s defenses! We might have been deceived!”

After carefully discerning for a moment, Andresha recognized him as one of the advisor scholars of Winterwolf Fortress—an elite group established by Emperor Rosetta during the military restructuring. These individuals, reminiscent of the Royal Advisory Council, are usually combat mages or priests with both battlefield experience and knowledge. They excel at thinking, more so than typical soldiers and commanders, and are more familiar with the battlefield than pure civilian officials. They use their experience and strategy to analyze various intelligence, providing advice and suggestions to the senior commanders of the army, making them extremely important personnel within the modern Typhon Legion.

Some old-fashioned knight commanders are not particularly fond of these advisors who are often overly verbose towards them, but Andresha always values the opinions of the advisor scholars. She even considered several improvement plans targeting the advisor scholars, submitting them to the emperor for these advisors to have a more positive impact within the army. Seeing an advisor scholar coming to her in such a hurry at this moment, her expression immediately turned serious: ”Sir, what has happened?”

”General, there is a problem with the Cecil Clan’s defenses. They... cough cough, they might be stalling for time,” the middle-aged man quickly came to Andresha after receiving permission and spread the papers in his hand on the table—what was actually a series of lists, ”Look, these are their troop reinforcement records, these are their fortification augmentations, and these are their supplies—data on the circulation of supplies we collected and speculated using intelligence methods. Look at these numbers!”

”They look quite normal,” Andresha examined them for a moment with her brows tightly knit, ”but... I feel something is off.”

”Of course something is off! These numbers aren’t problematic themselves, but their changes are problematic!” The middle-aged man shouted, ”Too stable, the changes are too regular. If you draw a line for both the increase in soldiers and the supplies’ circulation, the two lines are almost straight, especially regarding supplies—this aspect of intelligence is the hardest to collect. The hardest intelligence to gather can’t be accurate, and if it is accurate and shows regularity, then it must be false, deliberately shown to us by the enemy!”

A flash of insight crossed her mind, and Andresha finally realized where the source of her unease lay.

”Too foolish... I’m so foolish...”

The young Wolf General murmured softly, but then she suddenly recalled a saying from her father:

The most cunning enemy is not the one who hides all their secrets from you, but the one who shows you everything—yet you can’t tell what is true and what is false.

She stood up abruptly, speaking rapidly: ”Winterwolf First Cavalry, travel lightly, advance towards the Palamere Highlands—I will personally lead the team. Order the Iron River Knights to gather at the triangular plains, have the Black Flag Mage Corps stand by, and ensure all legion-class magic crystals are preheated, ready for action!”

The adjutant replied loudly, ”Yes!”

He didn’t ask what would be done if the General’s judgment turned out wrong—as the Wolf General, as the heir of the Wendell family, this seemingly young lady had already thought of all the consequences when issuing the order. If this judgment did indeed go wrong... she would do everything she could to bring back the First Cavalry, then take full responsibility herself.

He also didn’t question whether the General’s act of ”defying the emperor’s orders” was appropriate—because since the day the Winterwolf Legion was established, the Wolf General was granted a certain degree of frontline decision-making authority, and in case of emergencies and lack of contact with domestic command, the Wolf General had the power to make such decisions.

As for whether the Cecil Clan would be angered, whether they’d find ”righteousness” as a pretext, or whether they’d exert pressure on the Empire, the adjutant didn’t think too much about it.

The Empire is the backbone of every Typhon soldier, and soldiers are sent to the front lines to fight, not to retire.

An elite knights’ regiment, with almost one-third comprised of transcendent beings, was quickly organized. Under increasingly overcast skies and in the chilling autumn wind, they departed Winterwolf Fortress, racing through the southern plains’ ”Arched Corridor” towards Palamere Highlands. Meanwhile, one of the most elite knights’ regiments of the Typhon Empire, the Iron River Knights, quickly gathered at the triangular area in front of Winterwolf Fortress, pointing their sharp formations distantly at Longwind Fortress. Thousands of specially trained combat mages also arrived at the assembly site, waiting for the First Cavalry’s message.

The desolate cold wind swept across the plains, billowing the war banners flapping in the wind. Above, the gryphon knights of the regiment circled high, letting out piercing cries. Amidst the howling cold wind, Andresha donned the traditional winged helmet of her family lineage, riding through the knight’s formation, and at the forefront of the line, she drew her longsword: ”Forward! To Palamere Highlands! Forward!”

...

Armored gryphons skimmed the clouds, circumventing Typhon’s gryphon scouts under the cover of dark clouds. Atop these iron-willed raptors, a Cecil Knight, wearing wind goggles, leaned forward, swiftly relaying the message back to the fortress commander.

A full-strength Typhon Knights’ regiment suddenly commenced an advance on Palamere Highlands.

Maryland stood in the command center, staring intently at the map before him, focusing on the arrows marked directions on the map.

The direction pointed by the Typhon Knights’ regiment... was a false position.

They saw through it—before the iron throne had arrived.