Red dragon: in charge of natural disasters

On the Eastern Front, Saint Michael City fell in just a few days.

Droal, the Grand Marshal of the Eastern Army Group, led the main force across the Radiant Mountains, piercing directly into the heart of the Thracian Kingdom like a sharp sword, advancing towards Augusta at an unimaginable speed.

The Western Army Group also gathered, charging across the vast plains, ruthlessly tearing apart Thrace's defenses, and leaving the fragmented cities to be dealt with by the Starfall Legion.

In just seven days, under the Empire's lightning-fast offensive, the Thracian Kingdom's defenses were unsustainable, and the legions deployed in various locations were completely destroyed.

Then, under Wilhelm's "supreme command," the military forces from all over the Thracian Kingdom—whether it was the Holy Guard, the Golem Legion, the Arcane Legion, or the Angelic Descendants—marched mightily towards Augusta.

At this moment, all forces from both sides were gathered in the capital of the Thracian Kingdom, Augusta, known as the "City of Sunrise."

Thracian Kingdom, Augusta.

The towering Tower of the Sun God stood in the city center, its body flowing with patterns like liquid sunlight, and the sun wheel emblem at the top releasing a halo day and night.

This was both a symbol of faith and the core of the energy barrier covering the entire city, with inscriptions of the Sun God's script etched on its surface, continuously converting sunlight into a barrier to resist attacks.

The Angelic Descendants, led by Duke Tirena, guarded the tower, their wings forged like molten gold, holding blades of judgment, patrolling the sky.

Tirena waved his long sword, roaring at the Angelic Descendants: "The fate of Fianso will be decided by us!

We are the warriors chosen by the Sun God—for Thrace, for the sacred Fadlan, and for the great Amanata, we must not let Augusta fall! We must not let this sacred land bathed in sunlight fall into enemy hands!"

At the top of the tower were three hundred Holy Crusaders, also with wings, but their perfect faces were expressionless, like holy statues.

"Heavenly Feathers Burn Eyes, Fiery Swords Cleave Armor; Holy Hymns Brand Foreheads, Divine Eyes Like Torches."

The Holy Chant Choir stood around the solar disk at the top of the tower, chanting sacred hymns, continuously strengthening the barrier with this power.

The city wall system integrated the dual power of arcane and divine magic.

The outer layer was a gray-white rune barrier several meters thick, with expensive alchemical matrices embedded in the bricks, automatically forming combined defense arrays when attacked, dispersing physical impact underground and absorbing 30% of magical energy to be transmitted to the Arcane Army.

The inner wall was densely packed with fifty-yard-high prism towers, with crystal prisms at the top controlled by Grand Arcanists, capable of converting absorbed energy into annihilation beams or wide-area shields.

Behind the city wall battlements, thousands of golems stood silently, nearly ten meters tall, their bodies forged from meteorite iron, with alchemical devices imprisoning souls at their core; once war broke out, these golems could transform into killing machines that ignored pain.

The streets within the city were filled with hurried officers and soldiers, driving panicked civilians into shelters, preventing anyone from fleeing.

"Hurry, those in the back, keep up! Are you walking so slowly because you want to be whipped?" A Thracian officer on horseback cursed fiercely at the refugees.

A ragged woman holding a child mustered her courage and said softly: "Sir, my child hasn't eaten for days, it's really"

"Snap!" The whip struck the woman's back, causing her to let out a faint groan.

The officer didn't even look, just roared: "Shut up! Do you want to watch Augusta be breached? Do you want to become food for the evil dragon?

If anyone else is ungrateful, I'll beat them into a traitor! I'll let them lose their little lives!"

The child in the woman's arms hugged his mother's thin body, crying: "Mommy, I'm not hungry anymore, we won't eat, we won't eat."

Under Wilhelm's orders, all the food and residences in Augusta were requisitioned to sustain the armies gathered here from all over.

Seeing this scene, Dayev, who had just entered the city, sighed deeply and murmured: "I didn't expect the situation in the city to be so bad that the people can't even get food."

Thinking of this, he took out a piece of black bread from his pocket and threw it to the crying child.

"Thank you, sir," the child said, choking back tears.

Hearing this voice, the officer on horseback turned around angrily, but when he saw Dayev's official uniform embroidered with the holy emblem, he didn't say anything, just continued to wave his whip, driving the refugees.

Dayev walked on the street, preparing to go to the kingdom's intelligence department to report on the military situation in various places.

But he never expected this day to come so quickly; in just a few years, the Ember Empire led its army to Augusta.

"Amanata above"

"God"

"Look, it's His Majesty Wilhelm! What a holy appearance!"

"His Majesty Wilhelm will surely lead us to break through the siege and move towards a bright future!"

Dayev couldn't help but look up, only to see the Tower of the Sun God emitting thousands of rays of light, and Wilhelm slowly rising, appearing at the very top of the tower.

He was bathed in endless light, his tall and sturdy body covered with divine patterns, six burning wings slowly waving, and his pupils contained visible golden sun wheels, as if he were a descending deity.

In his hand was the spiral spear called "Final Judgment," its body composed of seven intertwined holy light chains, with a miniature sun constantly collapsing and reforming at the top.

Even Dayev couldn't help but mutter to himself: "His Majesty Wilhelm he seems to have become even stronger."

Since the Sun God fell into slumber, the power of the demigods in various places had been gradually weakening, but only His Majesty Wilhelm remained powerful, like the sun in the sky, never falling.

"Long live His Majesty Wilhelm!"

"Long live Thrace!"

The Thracian soldiers cheered fanatically.

Wilhelm swept his surroundings with a stern gaze, then slowly opened his mouth: "My subjects, people bathed in the glory of Amanata—the most critical moment has arrived!

The evil dragon from the north and its claws have crossed the Radiant Mountains and are attacking Augusta, wanting to turn Thrace into its territory.

It wants to enslave the children of the Sun God, to drain our blood and souls, and turn this sacred land into a sinful place filled with blood and slaughter!"

Immediately, the soldiers were in an uproar, cursing and spitting viciously, wishing they could cut off the evil dragon's head, break its wings, and use them as sacrifices to the Sun God.

"What a bunch of ignorant beasts!"

"That damn monster!"

"God!"

"It's okay, Wilhelm will lead us to kill it!"

Wilhelm's expression sharpened, and he spoke with a powerful and sonorous voice: "But I will let that evil dragon know—it is wishful thinking!

I will make them understand that the great Lord Amanata is inviolable, and the children of the Sun God will never submit to these cruel and tyrannical people!

Long live Thrace! Long live the sacred Fadlan!"

Wilhelm held the spiral spear in both hands, and a pillar of light soaring into the sky suddenly released from its tip, and a huge sun emblem appeared in the golden sky.

In an instant, an extremely enthusiastic cheer erupted in the city of Augusta.

"Long live Thrace!"

"Long live the sacred Fadlan!"

"For the supreme and eternal Lord of Light!"

Whether it was the Angelic Descendants surrounding the divine tower, the Holy Guards guarding Wilhelm's side, or the Arcane Legion within the city walls, they were all shouting at the top of their lungs.

Even the pegasus let out a loud cry, and the golems roared dully, as if venting their desire for victory.

The Thracians have always regarded Wilhelm as the successor to the old emperor, and their worship of him is beyond words.

But Dayev had personally seen His Majesty Wilhelm covered in cracks; how could this Majesty have become flawless in just a few years?

Coupled with the continuous disappearances in Augusta in recent years, Dayev often felt his scalp tingle, but he dared not delve into it.

Suddenly, a messenger riding a pegasus appeared in the sky, waving at him: "Lord Dayev, Lord Carlisle is looking for you; as a transcendent warrior, you have been dispatched to the Third Defense Zone"

"I understand," Dayev replied in a deep voice, then drew the long sword from his back and walked steadily in the direction the messenger pointed.

In any case, as a member of the Thracian Kingdom, he must do his best to protect this country, to protect the city behind him.

Passing through the bustling crowd, Dayev quickly came to the inside of the city wall, climbed up the ladder to the city tower, where General Carlisle, whom he knew well, was standing with his sword.

"General Carlisle," Dayev quickly greeted.

"Dayev, I've been waiting for you for a long time," Carlisle turned his head as if he had expected it, glanced at him, and then entered the city tower, "Come with me."

"Is there something you need?" Dayev was puzzled; at this critical moment of preparation for war, the general actually invited him to talk alone.

But he still followed, and subconsciously locked the door.

Carlisle sat in a chair, looked at Dayev, and said in a low voice: "I know you were once a diplomat of the kingdom and have been to the Empire's mainland; is it really as rumored—a hellish prison?"

When mentioning the word "hell," Carlisle's throat trembled, as if he remembered something.

Dayev hesitated for a moment, then shook his head and replied in a low voice: "It's not; it is indeed a prosperous and wealthy place, and in some respects, it is not inferior to Augusta."

Carlisle shook his head with a wry smile: "Haven't you seen the scene on the road? Where can Augusta be called prosperous now? It is no longer the glorious 'City of Sunrise' it once was.

The current Augusta is just a giant drained of blood by war; perhaps it was once strong and healthy, but that is already sealed history."

"."

Dayev fell silent, waiting for Carlisle's next question.

Sure enough, Carlisle looked at him with those extremely deep eyes and asked, word by word: "If the person you are loyal to becomes a terrible monster—would you still continue to follow him?"

"Could it be"

Dayev trembled all over, almost screaming, and the terrifying guess in his heart was confirmed.

All Thracians say that Lord Amanata has awakened and that Lord Wilhelm has received His favor, allowing him to remain strong and build a Holy Guard.

But what if—the Sun God is still in slumber? Where does Lord Wilhelm's power come from?

A hint of despair appeared in Carlisle's eyes, and he sighed in a sorrowful tone: "Dayev, the Thracian Kingdom is no longer the country you are loyal to, the one that pursues light and advocates justice.

In the past few years, I have personally watched the deity I believe in being blasphemed by demons, watched the land I guard become a land of sin, watched the monarch I swore to be loyal to be bewitched by darkness, but there is no way to change it"

The general turned his head wearily and gave Dayev a deep look: "Dayev, I know you are different from them; years ago, you were driven out of Augusta for being dissatisfied with the atrocities of the nobles.

Surely you won't stand by and watch this place become a demon's lair, will you?"

"You mean"

Dayev's pupils suddenly shrank, thinking of something that would never be tolerated by the Thracian Kingdom.

Carlisle remained silent, just placed an iron object in Dayev's hand, then turned around decisively, pushed the door open, and left.

"Amanata above, please forgive my sins"

Dayev stood there blankly for a long time before opening his palm; sure enough, a mark of a vertical pupil and flames lay quietly in his palm—it was the emblem of the Ember Empire.

"Buzz—"

On the city tower, twenty-four horns engraved with angel reliefs were blown, emitting a dull and long sound.

Dayev also pushed the door open and looked outside the city wall, and then saw a scene he would never forget in his life—

In the distant sky, huge airships were in groups, various flying dragons flapped their wings in a disorderly manner, like heavy clouds stretching for hundreds of miles, almost blocking the sun.

On the ground, smoke and dust rolled in, the ground trembled constantly, the tracks of steam tanks rolled over the wasteland, and armored vehicles dragging heavy artillery sped past.

And heavy mechs were coming with heavy steps, creating majestic silhouettes on the horizon.

And in the farther distance, countless space teleportation gates unfolded in mid-air, leading to many planes of the multiverse, and fire elemental legions, shadow legions, and hell contract legions poured out from the teleportation gates one after another.(End of this chapter)