Despite his internal conflicts, Walm was amazed that his body could still succumb to sleep, even if it was just for about two hours. His unattended beard had grown rough, and his cheeks had slightly lost weight.

Descending from the tower, he passed through a corner where refugees huddled together. A man groaning from injuries, an old man staring blankly at the sky, and a mother comforting her child – these images fleetingly crossed his vision. Most of those he saw now would be left behind in Dandurg Castle by early morning tomorrow. The outcome was as clear as watching a fire.

“Think about it after it’s over.” Walm switched his thoughts but felt an eerie sensation about what would become of him after everything had ended.

The soldiers he passed by also seemed rushed. Walm suspected they were informed about the operation, but it seemed not.

Walm noticed something amiss. The noise that had persisted day and night along the castle walls had vanished. His heart continued to beat as if it were ringing an alarm.

“Hey, look at that!”

A soldier pointed and shouted.

Rushing up the castle wall passage to the top of the gate tower, Walm gasped. The monsters that should have swarmed the surroundings had all at once retreated.

Not even the synchronized volley of arrows, the obstructive firepower of the magic soldiers, or the wide-area attacks could stop the great rampage. It was beyond astonishing.

“Is it a lie? The monsters are retreating.”

“Have we won? Have we actually won?”

Some soldiers raised voices of joy, thinking it a miracle. The more perceptive ones turned pale. Walm sensed something akin to the calm before a tsunami.

“Don’t slack in scouting, don’t miss a single thing!”

Trying to confirm the situation, Walm saw something unbelievable.

“The mountain moved?”

“That’s ridiculous, impossible.”

“No, no, no, it’s definitely moving.”

A mountain shouldn’t move. It was supposed to be an illusion, something Walm wished to believe, but the surrounding soldiers also noticed it.

“What’s that? The mountain’s on fire.”

“It’s not a mountain!”

“Oh God, it’s a dragon! The dragons are coming!!”

One of the soldiers hit the nail on the head. A “Giant Dragon,” known as the strongest species, was heading straight for Dandurg Castle.

“What… is that?”

Walm felt as if all the strength was draining from his body. In the face of this, dragons could be considered just slightly larger lizards. A sentient disaster, a calamity with a will, was clearly visible to the naked eye.

A living natural disaster, towering well over 40 meters, with magical power that violated the very atmosphere around it. Its scales, if they could be called that, seemed like exposed lava. It exuded a sense of ferocity and an untouchable mystique.

With every step it took, red-hot soil and ashes erupted from the ground.

“Of all things… it’s one of the five great dragons, the Flame Emperor Dragon!!”

“The Flame Emperor Dragon?! It hasn’t been seen in 150 years! Why would such a monster come here?!”

“It was awakened by the great rampage.”

Among the ecosystem’s rulers, the dragons, only those at the pinnacle were feared and bore the imperial crown. Even Walm, who was not well-versed in monsters, knew of them.

In the past, only two dragons had been subdued by three major countries staking their national survival. And that was largely due to the “Crumbling Giant” and “Great Spirit Magic.”

Throughout the long history, since the age of myths, disasters caused by dragons had been reported. More than a hundred nations, powerful alliances, and great empires were destroyed. The natural enemy of mankind had now turned its fangs towards the Highserk Empire.

Even if the Four Nation Alliance and Highserk Empire were going against the beast together, victory was uncertain. Now, the dragon was coming towards Dandurg Castle that had merely the strength of 20,000 regular and militia troops.

“It’s no joke. Hurry and contact headquarters.”

“Should we evacuate immediately?!”

“Take out the ballista at least…”

“Is that kind of thing really going to work against it?”

Soldiers rushed through the castle’s walls. The hastening of the strategy was inevitable. Walm wanted to fully support this move, but being more sensitive to magical power than others, he was the first to sense the ominous signs.

“Stay back, get away from the castle!!”

“What are you doing, Sir Knight?!”

“What the?! There’s a swirling of magical power!”

Walm’s voice rose in a state that could be mistaken for confusion. The air, the magical power, was transforming. A giant jaw gate opened, and a magical power that could distort space itself was being compressed.

“No way, that’s…”

The visibly swirling magical power spread from the center of the Flame Emperor Dragon. The ground burned, and the earth melted.

“The dragon’s breath is coming!!!”

The ultimate skill, possessed only by dragonkind, capable of piercing the earth, splitting the sea, and breaking the sky – the incomparable Dragon Breath was coming towards them.

Walm leaned against the sturdiest column of the gate tower on the wall, curled up like a child, and fully expanded his magical barrier.

The soldiers scrambled into the gate towers and the shadows of buildings, seeking any slight increase in their chances of survival.

After taking a defensive position and a few seconds of blinding brilliance, as if burning the retina, it was unleashed.

Even Walm, who possessed the highest level of fire resistance, felt the heat through his magical barrier, and his skin stung. Debris and dust covered him as they were swept up.

The ringing in his ears was intense, and due to an abnormality in his vestibular system, Walm felt as if he were drowning on land. Debris repeatedly struck his armor. His limbs were numb. Finally able to move, Walm rose from the rubble.

Here and there lay charred remains, likely once human. None retained their original form or showed any signs of life.

“No, this can’t be…”

The direct hit on the tower was a scene of horror. It was hollowed out in a circular pattern, literally vanished. The surrounding area was engulfed in flames due to the aftermath.

The burned materials crushed fleeing refugees in panic.

The breath, evaporating the earth as it advanced, melted a corner of the castle walls like butter, and only after erasing the mountains in its path did it finally subside.

“The headquarters…”

The brigade commander and the battalion commanders who had been at the headquarters were wiped out without a trace. With just one blow, a third of the Highserk troops and refugees were lost, and the castle was on the verge of functional collapse.

The Flame Emperor Dragon, the cause of it all, continued its invasion towards Walm’s homeland without a second glance at Dandurg Castle, as if merely blowing away an annoying insect.

“Ah, what is that… What is this world!! What’s happening here!!”

Unable to contain himself any longer, Walm struck the gate tower and wept bitterly. He bit his lip, and the unbearable taste of blood spread in his mouth.

In Walm’s mind appeared the faces of his comrades-in-arms from past battles. Then, those who had spent time with him at the Sarajevo Fortress flashed through his mind.

“Ayane, Maya, Moritz!!”

Regaining his senses, Walm left the ramparts and hastened towards the treatment center where his charge and subordinates were likely to be.

“Help… me…”

“Ah, no way! It can’t be, it can’t!”

Those crushed under the debris, unable to stand due to burns covering their entire bodies—there were more injured than unharmed. Many needed help.

Pulling back his extended hand, Walm kicked off the ground. He had to abandon them. Most had no hope of survival, and Walm’s priority was clear.

The sound of children sobbing and soldiers screaming lingered in Walm’s ears. As he neared his destination, the number of people burned and wounded like the undead increased.

Fortunately, the treatment center had escaped the Breath’s devastation.

“Move aside!”

The treatment center was overrun with people. Burnt individuals, families cradling their loved ones, all crying out for help.

Outside the treatment center, countless patients lined up, many already lifeless. Those whose skin fused with their clothes and equipment groaned softly with every movement.

Weaving through the crowd of injured, Walm entered. Beds were all occupied, and even the unclean floor was overflowing with patients.

The supposedly ventilated large room reeked of death, assaulting the nostrils. Recovery mages tirelessly cast spells, while medics ran about.

In the center was Ayane, her apron contaminated with blood and flesh, her exhaustion evident, yet her hands never stopped.

Walm, relieved, exhaled as Ayane noticed him.

“Are you alright, Walm?!”

Walm was dirty but unharmed.

“The gate tower shielded me. I’m fine. I’m gathering able soldiers for evacuation. Command is destroyed, the walls lost. Monsters will swarm us.”

Walm began devising an escape plan. Though inexperienced in leading large groups, with Moritz and the surviving commanders’ help, he could manage to gather a platoon, or even a company.

It was crucial to distance themselves from the route of the Flame Emperor Dragon’s invasion. The specifics of the escape could be considered on the move.

“We can’t do that,” Ayane said, halting Walm. She might not grasp the situation.

“I’ll protect you on the way. We can’t stay here.”

“What about those who can’t move, the people of Mayard?”

“They’re just Mayard people, not even from Crest.”

“The nation doesn’t matter. I… I want to save them.”

“Don’t be foolish, do you want to die? Don’t indulge in self-sacrifice. Just follow orders!”

Walm raised his voice, drew his sword, and scorched the floor. His sudden violent act silenced the surroundings. He grabbed Ayane, intending to drag her away.

Yet Ayane stood firm, confronting Walm.

“I don’t want to die. Swords and monsters terrify me. But I can’t abandon the people before me now.”

She trembled, but her eyes were resolute. Dismissing her as delusional was easy.

“…Tsk.”

What a foolish situation. The girl he thought weak had a firmer conviction than Walm, ready to abandon people for the sake of duty and country.

“The ‘hands of the clock’ don’t turn back. It’s too late now.”

Walm, silent, looked towards where command once stood. It was more vanished than destroyed. No one likely survived.

Some soldiers might be attempting to flee, but nearly half, uninformed, remained motionless. The correct course would be to forcibly gather as many soldiers as possible and retreat beyond the city walls.

The brigade was nearly decimated, its command structure gone. Panic wasn’t unique to Walm. However, being just a Guardian Chief, he found people gathering around him for direction.

“Sir Knight, what should we do?”

“No officers above company commander are left.”

The once valiant Highserk soldiers were now in disarray, waiting for orders. They should’ve retreated earlier. Even if over half the soldiers and civilians were lost…

Walm, about to speak, felt his sleeve tugged. A tearful young girl looked up at him.

“Please, help us.”

Her voice was faint as an insect’s. Don’t think, don’t entertain illusions. What could such small humans do?

Injured soldiers, civilians, all looked to Walm for salvation.

It was wrong. He shouldn’t get ahead of himself. With the officers and command gone, he should follow the intended policy, yet Walm was a weak human, believing in miracles. The worst kind of soldier.

“Damn it,” he cursed internally, steeling himself.

“Imperfect as it is, we’ll block the broken walls. Everyone, follow me!”

Whether the choice made was correct or incorrect, the die has been cast. Now, Walm had no choice but to struggle forward.