Ashen Dragon

Count Matthew Notte of the Notte Duchy asked in a clear voice, "What plans do you have regarding the order of the army's assault?"

As soon as he spoke, everyone in the tent held their breath, as this was the question that the various noble lords present most wanted to ask.

After all, under the customary feudal system of the North, their armies were their foundations; no one was selfless enough to want to deplete their own strength to win. Many nobles were even participating under half-coercion, though the Rackman Family had made offers that were hard to refuse.

Duke Robert pressed his gloved hands down slightly and said calmly,

"Everyone, please remain calm. I will not let your armies die in vain."

"The Duke has conscripted ten thousand laborers to form the 'Legion of Honor,' who will act as the vanguard. These brave people will test the strength of the evil dragons' minions for us."

The hearts of the nobles finally settled, and no one raised any more questions—so there were cannon fodder to pave the way after all.

However, Andrei frowned and asked again, "How can we let commoners be cannon fodder? This does not conform to the spirit of knighthood, which values bravery and compassion."

"Hahaha!"

Everyone laughed again, and the atmosphere lightened significantly.

This freshly emerged "Little Lion" was incredibly naive. They were Northern Nobility after all; who would consider these so-called "Gray Beasts" to be worth anything?

But seeing Andrei's serious expression, Robert suppressed his laughter and explained,

"Hmm... They are all volunteers, if they die bravely in battle, the Duchy will compensate their families handsomely."

"Whether they have families and whether the compensation reaches them is another matter," he silently added in his heart.

Before the battle, the "Legion of Honor" might have been mere farmers in the fields, without any formal military training.

Aside from poor-quality weapons, they had almost no armor. Their primary work was to feed the warhorses and transport supplies, acting as cannon fodder for the elite troops.

They were usually the tenant farmers and serfs under local landlords, people with no personal freedom. They didn't even have the right to the spoils of war; any achievements and spoils would be recorded under their master's name.

Such was this group.

Regarded as mere chaff by the Northern Nobility.

Andrei felt the mocking glances around him and lowered his head in silence.

Robert pointed to the map and continued to lay out his tactical arrangements.

The Rackman Family's direct army, the "Claw of the Male Eagle," numbering over eight thousand, would hold the central position, making a frontal attack once the laborers had scouted the situation.

The Boske Family's three thousand-strong "Lionheart Legion," along with the Notte Family's five-thousand-strong reinforcements, would guard both flanks upon entering Stormy Ridge.

Private armies of various noble lords, totaling over four thousand, would be interspersed within the allied forces, following the commanders' orders, though Robert didn't expect them to be easily controlled. He mixed them up primarily to prevent them from fighting each other before the battle began.

The three hundred Northwind Eagle Guards would circle in the air, surveying the situation and providing airstrikes at crucial moments. For some reason, the Sixth Northwind Hawk Guard Brigade, sent to scout, had not yet returned, causing Robert considerable frustration.

A baron from the Rackman Duchy asked in a low voice, "My lord, what about that giant dragon?"

"I've heard... it's a terrifying existence."

His fief was close to Stormy Ridge, and fearful rumors of the dreaded "Flame Wing Dragon" often reached the North.

In those poems, the Red Dragon was described as a beloved of Tiamat, an incarnation of the Infernal Flame Devil, a master of endless flames, the prophesied destroyer of the Northern Kingdom, capable of burning everything.

Robert sneered.

"Ha, the so-called 'Flame Wing Dragon'?"

"Don't be deceived by those foolish bard's poems. Whether it's the intelligence from the Northwind Eagle Guards or my divination spells, it confirms that it's merely a young Red Dragon with a slightly unusual breath, even smaller than a typical young dragon."

The mage, 'Grey Hawk,' who was also in the tent, raspily said,

"This is Sir Schroeder, the Duchy's Chief Archmage. His mastery of spells is unrivaled among us."

Robert continued, "Indeed, those so-called poems are likely just the self-aggrandizing propaganda of that vain Red Dragon."

"Gentlemen, please follow me."

Feeling that words alone were insufficient, Robert strode out of the tent, followed closely by the nobles.

They came to an open area where supplies were stored.

Their eyes were immediately drawn to a massive object covered with a thick cloth, standing over two meters tall. Just this one piece required twelve horses and over a hundred laborers for transport, and there were three of them here.

They had long noticed it and were intensely curious.

"Gentlemen, observe—"

At Robert's cue, the guards stepped forward and removed the thick cloth covering it.

It was a giant, clumsy mechanical weapon made of coarse black wood and dark gray metal. The body was tall and thick, with a sturdy iron frame at the base supported by several metal wheels to aid in slow movement.

On top was a conical arrow tube wrapped in iron plates studded with rivets. Long, curved crossbow arms were fixed on either side.

A giant arrow, as thick as an arm and over two meters long, lay quietly on the bed, its iron tip glinting coldly with traces of blood on it.

This was a formidable great crossbow!

"Whoa—"

The crowd gasped in awe at this terrifying weapon of war.

Duke Robert seemed pleased with their reactions and explained proudly, "This is a Dragon-Slaying Ballista. Its arrowheads are soaked in Dragon Blood, easily piercing a dragon's scales.

"A hundred and forty years ago, General Terna Rackman killed the ravaging elder White Dragon—Glacier Wing—with one of these."

He raised a finger, waving it deliberately.

"One shot, just one shot pierced the dragon's heart."

"And back then, the great General Terna only had one Dragon-Slaying Ballista."
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"Now, our Rackman Duchy spent tens of thousands of gold coins to acquire these three Dragon-Slaying Ballistae and used hundreds of horses and over a thousand laborers to bring them here. You can understand the immense effort we've made and my confidence."

"If that giant dragon dares to show itself, these three ballistae will bring it down."

Robert's tone was filled with certainty.

"Flame Wing Dragon?"

"Ha, I will make it the 'Fallen Dragon.'"