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"Master, this is what I’ve observed."

Alger knelt down, speaking in a low voice.

"Very well, I understand."

Cassius lay coiled at the highest point, slowly grooming his scales, showing no hint of urgency about the impending war.

Within the Dragon Valley, all the major leaders of Ember Nest had assembled.

Present were the ogre mage Langpu, hobgoblin commander Dolo, dragon leader Smaug, the chimera, lizardfolk chief Ack, shaman Koda, kobold Sorcerer Gold-Fang,

and representatives from the various newly incorporated factions—orc, satyr, pure-blooded serpent folk. Virtually every prominent figure in Ember Nest had gathered here, poised for action.

"Anzeta hasn’t seen a war of this scale in decades, not since the Lionheart Alliance War thirty years ago," Delena added.

She was temporarily serving as an advisor, lacking decision-making power but dedicated nonetheless.

"According to Lord Alger’s intelligence, the allied forces are now advancing toward the edge of Storm Highlands, near the Telpha Hills, the only suitable area for large-scale maneuvers."

"And here—"

She spread open a parchment map, her slender finger pointing to a specific spot—a broad valley surrounded by mountainous terrain to the north, with a single pass leading to Storm Highlands, and enclosed by rolling hills to the south.

"The Trier Valley, the only route they must take to reach Dragon Valley."

"If we can hold this defensible pass—Trier’s Throat—we can securely block Storm Highlands, preventing the allied forces from advancing."

Cassius offered no response, casting a calm gaze over his gathered followers.

Langpu adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, suggesting, "I think this is an excellent idea. We could set up magical traps there in advance, sowing chaos and demoralizing their ranks before the battle even begins."

Cassius remained silent, still surveying his followers from above.

A heavy silence fell, as most of his followers were undecided.

Dolo rolled his eyes, then snorted a plume of white smoke, berating Langpu, "Langpu, you’ve spent so much time with those human spells you’ve gone soft, like a feeble human mage, overthinking everything!"

"Are we, the Ember Nest, supposed to cower defensively against mere humans?"

The hobgoblin brandished his spear, roaring, "We’re the servants of the mighty red dragon, with the blood of destruction and conquest in our veins!"

"We should attack, raining fire and might upon them! Crush their pitiful courage and bring them blood and death!"

His words found support among many of the followers, who, being less intellectually inclined and highly reverent of strength, found Dolo’s rhetoric appealing.

Langpu sneered, retorting, "Ignoring natural defenses to throw ourselves into a head-on fight—has your head been stuffed with goblin dung?"

"Pitiful creature."

"Yes, Lord Langpu, those goblins really are greedy, cowardly, and foolish," added Gold-Fang, the kobold Sorcerer.

Though speaking of goblins, each word made the hobgoblin leader shake with anger, his already red face growing even redder.

Dolo stepped forward to loom over him, bellowing angrily,

"Gold-Fang! Stay out of this!"

"You’re in no position to speak here!"

But Gold-Fang was emboldened by the imposing presence of Langpu by his side. With the animosity already established, he seized the chance to taunt further.

The kobold Sorcerer flared his wings confidently, taunting, "Look who carries the truest bloodline of our master."

"Who’s the true dragon-blooded?"

Dolo laughed bitterly, "You—"

"Enough."

The dragon’s voice resonated, an invisible aura of draconic might filling the valley, pressing heavily on each of his followers.

The scene fell silent, even the ogre, goblins, and kobolds standing obediently without a word.

"Indeed, we will take the initiative."

At these words, Dolo’s face lit up with triumph as he cast a taunting glance at Langpu.

Cassius paused.

"However…"

"I intend to send them a grand gift."

Supporting his massive body with his forelimbs, the red dragon slowly rose, stretching his broad wings.

"Awooo—"

The horn sounded across Dragon Valley.

The horn, crafted from a giant dragon-serpent’s horn, let out a thunderous rumble.

Hobgoblins drove their massive earthbound beasts forward, shaking the ground with their footsteps. Tieflings and lizardfolk warriors marched in full armor, lined up in neat rows. Meanwhile, from countless caves and dens in Storm Highlands, kobolds and goblins surged like a tide.

The terrifying behemoth that had lain dormant for years in Ember Nest was finally baring its fangs and claws.

………

In the allied forces’ camp, a gloved hand slapped down on a map scroll.

"This is it—Trier Valley."

"Our optimal campsite. From here, we can advance directly on Storm Highlands, and if necessary, retreat to hold Trier’s Throat, preventing Ember Nest’s forces from pursuing us. It’s perfect."

The speaker, a man in his forties clad in an ornate suit of knightly armor, wore a carefully groomed mustache and carried an air of authority.

His name was Robert Dudley, the youngest count in the Lackman Duchy, a trusted son-in-law of Duke Brad Lackman, and the commander of the allied forces—a seasoned noble knight.

In the tent, a young blond man in his twenties voiced concern, "What if they attack from behind and trap us in the valley?"

"Hahahaha!"

The noble lords in the tent burst into laughter.

The speaker was Andre Bosk, the third son of the "Northern Lion" Bosk family, a young and promising paladin sworn to the Oath of Glory.

While strong personally, his na?ve recklessness often amused the others, earning him the nickname "Little Lion" in private.

Stroking his mustache, Robert chuckled, "Andre, war is no simple game. In a battle involving tens of thousands, maneuvering an army isn’t as easy as moving pieces on a board."

He pointed at the map.

"See here, the Rect Mountains at the edge of Storm Highlands block the way. They won’t appear behind us without warning."

Andre pondered for a moment before replying quietly,

"I understand, Lord Robert."

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