— CONTESTED BORDER, NAAH’MI MOUNTAINS, YEAR: 7298. SEASON: NEW BEGINNING.

  Asan gritted his teeth and swallowed. A hand ran up to his short-cropped beard and fiercely stroked at it. The other held onto his God-slaying bow, while his eyes remained on the approaching army.

  He was worried, and those small actions were his display of that nervousness. Thus far, the battle between both sides has been somewhat even. No, not exactly even Asan thought as he reviewed everything. They hadn’t been able to force the advancing party to halt nor gain any decisive blow. Neither had the Imperius Army.

  So why do I feel nervous?

  Asan couldn’t answer that question. The plan to halt the Edryan advance was already in place and would be deployed shortly. Asan thought it was a bit of a waste to use this card now, but Mojo didn’t care. He wanted to see the combat capabilities of the Edryans, no matter what, before they drew close to the keep’s barrier. This would also give them a chance to catch a small breather and strategize. Asan just hoped this feeling of nervousness would go away. He felt like he was missing something, but before his thoughts could continue, Mojo activated the next set of plans.

  “Release the Eranko,” Mojo said. His voice was simple, firm, and decisive.

  Mojo stared intently at the approaching army. They were less than 700 meters away from the keep and the barrier protecting them. It surprised him that with such extensive ability to use magic, the Edryans still preferred to fight in close quarters. He’d have thought they’d used some grand spell or intense ritual magic to target the base from a distance—not simply charge it.

  He respected them for their bravery, but they would still die here today.

  From the mountains on both ends of Forger’s Keep, two large, black monochromatic gates were pulled open. Thick, burly creatures snarled at one another as they fought to be the first one out.

  Eranko, war-forged beast developed through experimentation by the wizards of the Federation. Unlike the White-head Ants, these creatures were built solely as machines of war. The Eranko were tall, with slightly hunched backs and sleek, black, hairless skin. Each could easily stare an Asigbonle in the eye with ease, and even Mojo found their sizes to be somewhat intimidating as someone who stood over 230 centimeters in height. Long fangs hung from the sides of their mouths, colored like steel; they were easily able to rip armor to shreds. Within the packs that rushed out, smaller beasts of the same kind, no more than 150 centimeters in height, ran alongside their larger brothers. The Eranko next to them shied away as if fearful.

  Mojo recalled the information about these two War-forged. Advancements made through the power of magic and wizardry.

  A majority of the beasts were three-star, with roughly seventy to eighty thousand of them stored as one of the trump cards of Forger’s Keep. And, they were one of the reasons the keep held the name. It wasn’t just weapons forged by The Forger, a Prestige of the Ibadan clan, but all types of deadly things. Hidden within that force of eighty thousand were several thousand tier four Eranko beasts. They served as pack leaders, and it was they that the wizards of Forger’s Keep ultimately controlled.

  Mojo watched with anticipation as two streams of beasts charged from the surrounding mountains, converging toward the front of the Imperius Army. These creatures were expensive to produce, but were worth the cost. Each one required a dozen or so gold coins or more, depending on the star rank they were created for. They could allow natural growth, but that took a significant amount of time, even if it produced cheaper results. These Eranko were grown originally as tier two and three before being allowed to continue natural evolution.

  Their process of creation was simple; one only needed the proper class and enough biomass to grow them in artificial wombs. The Federation had long prepared several different varieties of war-forged to resist the Edryan invasion. Now, Mojo revealed one of their cards in hopes of conserving others.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “Ensure both the short and long-range cannons are prepared to fire,” Mojo ordered.

  “Theater Commander, will we be firing as the Eranko confront the army?”

  Mojo shook his head. He may be a bit wasteful when it comes to using his cards in the battle, but he couldn’t just disregard eighty thousand Eranko that could cost millions of gold coins to produce.

  “No, unless there are any signs of retreat from the Edryans or defeat of the Eranko.”

  A sigh of relief came from the voice on the other end. Mojo smirked, recognizing the voice of one of his clansmen. Most soldiers present were directly from the Kano and Yola clans, both Mojo’s and Asan’s clans, respectively. The country’s system was a clan-based system united under the banner called the Federation. During an active state of wartime, each clan would contribute soldiers and resources to the government, collaborating but still requiring a commander familiar with the soldiers to govern them.

  The thirteen clans all originated from the same origin. This allowed them to work together more cohesively than strangers coming together, but they were still competing with one another at the end of the day. Resources, land, rights to speak, and more were all decided by sufficient strength. Just as the position of Grand Arbitrator was decided by the merits one got during their previous wars.

  The two clans had funded this base, not just because of the order from the Federation, but because their homelands were the closest to this region. Should any force make it through the keep, they would have access to open plains leading to various cities above and below ground established by the clans.

  The Imperius Army reacted swiftly as the Eranko emerged from the two hidden mountain gates on either side. The force retreated swiftly while each soldier and their accompanying golems spread out, giving a meter or so distance between each group.

  Initially, there was 700 meters of distance between the army and Forger’s Keep; now that has opened to almost a kilometer, out of range of the short-range cannons but in range of the long-range ones. That distance continued for a bit before ultimately stopping a few hundred meters from where they began.

  “Their reaction is swift,” Asan stated. “That’s a movement skill, looks like they want no chances of being pinched.”

  “I expect a challenge from General Alexandria,” Mojo said, shrugging. “Had she not reacted, I would have thought less of her.”

  Thus far, General Alexandria had revealed few cards that the Imperius Army carried with them. Outside of the golem Nubia and the two golem companions for the soldiers, nothing else was revealed. Compared to the keep, the Imperius Army was still shrouded in an air of mystery.

  “Have you found the Chosen of Madris?”

  Asan sighed, knowing this question was coming. “No,” he answered truthfully. “I’ve attempted several scans on the three I believed to be him, but ultimately failed to get any information. The anti-examination being used on each of those three has divinity properties.

  Mojo whistled. “Three armors composed of divine materials to create at least two dupes is impressive. How much of the foundation of Edryan has been put into this force?”

  Asan shook his head. “Who knows, at least the income of a clan for five or six years. It’s impressive and showcases exactly how much sway this Chosen of Madris has in his country.”

  “You must find him,” Mojo said. His voice was stern, with a level of seriousness that Asan hadn’t heard for a long time.

  “I’m trying. We only have one opportunity to take him down with ease, and I cannot use pretenses as confirmation. We must confirm one of them to be him.”

  Mojo frowned, arms crossed, his eyes on the Imperius Army as they took up a defensive position. A few figures moved forward, and the army turned into a diamond formation. He continued to speak to Asan as he prepared to watch the battle. An hour passed since the initial start of the confrontation, and the clear blue sky hadn’t changed except for the smell of smoke produced from the keep’s cannons.

  “What opportunity do you need?”

  Asan pondered, his eyes also on the Imperius Army as they prepared to confront the charging Eranko. Asan needed an opportunity, yes, but exactly what was still unknown even to him. He threw out a few things that would give him the confidence to confirm the Chosen of Madris.

  “If we can reveal his dragon form or even a slight transformation, I would be able to take a shot without hesitation. There is little information on his true skills and capabilities. He has hidden deeply.”

  “Hmph, we shall see,” Mojo responded. “Let’s hope this battle ends in time. I miss Koko. You’re going to be an uncle soon.”

  Asan paused. He moved to the edge of Battle Terrance One and looked down at Mojo, his eyes wide with surprise and joy. “Bastard! How long were you planning on keeping this a secret?”

  Mojo laughed. “I’d have announced it during a more auspicious time, but who knows how long this siege will last. It’s best to tell you now so you can prepare a grand gift!”

  Asan chuckled, but completely focused as did his cousin. The Eranko had met the Imperius Army.

  The beast crashed into the army, but the two at the forefront held their ground. Mojo narrowed his eyes as blue flames licked the large, oversized gauntlets carried by one.

  “Ade Oni,” he muttered. His gaze looked at the second person next to him, whose sword glowed with the light of the sun. “And Helios Romus... very interesting.”

  Mojo didn’t know if it was on purpose or meant to be a provocation, but the two Theater Commanders had a history with both men. He watched them fight, recognizing some skills while they attacked.

  They split the Eranko wave, forcing most three starred beast to veer to the side and avoid death. Any who fail met blade or fist, swiftly disposed of by a single chop or punch. The golems on their left and right moved methodically, not actively attacking but actively supporting both men with skills. Small blue mana tethers linked the two to the Imperius Celestial, and Mojo narrowed his eyes at the sight. Fortunately, he held a team behind him that quickly brought up updates.

  “Theater Commander, the Imperius Celestial golem seems to be using its mana as a reservoir for its linked soldier. The soldiers aren’t using their Life Points to fight, rather they’re draining the golems!”

  “That’s…,” Asan began, but hesitated. There was so much he could say.

  Impressive.

  Wasteful.

  Extravagant.

  Honestly, he was kind of jealous of the amount of resources displayed. Had his clan given him that type of support, he was certain he’d have been the Grand Arbitrator. He dismissed the thought. There was no use crying over spilled milk.

  “…going to make this a battle of attrition,” Mojo finished. “Two factors decide battles of this scale. Levels are the most important. Outside of our special troops, most here range between level 150 and 200. Our general range is 170. What are their levels Asan?”

  “They’re roughly the same.”

  Mojo’s frown reappeared, growing deeper. Operating the keep’s cannons wasn’t free. It cost his warriors Energy every time a shot was let loose.

  “The second is whether they have a damned good commander or not. Since neither side has stumbled. It looks like we’re up for a battle of attrition, ” Mojo smirked. “That’s what I specialize in.”

  Asan rolled his eyes at Mojo’s self-praise. He ignored him, only focusing his attention on the battling forces. The Eranko were testing the defense, looking for a weakness in the formation that they could take advantage of. The creatures held a modicum of intelligence at three stars, but everything changed once they became four stars. They were smarter, using their lesser brethren to test defenses and look for weaknesses.

  Asan’s eyes looked to the left of the Imperius Army, roughly a quarter of the distance between the diamond’s tip and its base. The Eranko found a weakness.

  An Imperius Soldier fought next to his golems, pushing forward to slay a retreating Eranko. The beast was nearly dead, its lower jaw shattered, and its skin pierced, leaving red, bloody holes. A single step, that’s all the soldier did. They took a single step to finish off their opponents with one final spear stab, and the shifting Erankos moved suddenly. Two bit the spear and pulled the soldier out further, while one of the leaders directly bit through his throat, ripping his skull from his body.

  The soldier’s body hit the ground a heartbeat later, dragged backward by the weight of his armor as the Eranko tore free. Blood sprayed across the stony ground, steaming faintly before it cooled. Even if he was connected to his golems, it would stop a Mortal Reminder .

  For a moment, the battlefield seemed to pause. The soldiers of Forger’s Keep craned their necks, eyes drawn to the point of impact. Then a cheer erupted.

  An Imperius Soldier had fallen.

  Mojo didn’t flinch. One casualty in an engagement of this scale was statistical noise. He raised a hand, and the cheering died down, but the grin on his face lingered. That soldier’s mistake forced a reaction—several more rushed to his defense, and in the process, another fell.

  Acceptable.

  “Good,” Mojo said calmly. “They recovered well. Adjust the cannons.”

  Orders flowed. Cannons adjusted. The Asigbonle of the keep scurried to fulfill the commands. The Eranko exploited the opening exactly as designed, biting, dragging, punishing, but each success was immediately met with containment.

  The Imperius Army adapted.

  Forger’s Keep did as well.

  Asan smirked, not surprised by the soldiers’ cheering. The Imperius Army had approached Forger’s Keep through a defense that any other army would have had casualties during the first round of cannon fire. They’d managed to push so far that no soldier had fallen until they were nearly touching the keep’s shields. That was irregular, and neither Asan nor Mojo hadn’t fully realized how it affected their soldiers.

  A small victory was still a victory.