Over the next three days, Emberfire City entered a state of tense preparation for war.
News of the gnolls and the evil god quickly spread among the adventurers: the gnoll tribe in the northern Whispering Forest was preparing a ritual to summon an evil god, which had to be destroyed before it could be completed.
This was no longer an ordinary subjugation mission, but an expedition upon which the survival of Emberfire City—and even the surrounding towns—depended.
Harold issued an emergency quest in the name of the Adventurers' Guild, while also reporting the full details of the operation and the reward scheme to the Grand Guild.
"Prevent the Evil God Descent, and all participants will receive merit recognition from the Grand Guild."
These words stirred the hearts of many adventurers.
To an adventurer, merit meant a higher rank, more resources, and access to better quests.
And stopping a threat of this caliber—an Evil God Descent—would yield merits far more valuable than any ordinary subjugation mission.
More importantly, the compensation offered by Sevein was exceptionally generous.
Depending on the participant's class tier, one would receive at least twenty gold coins, and even in the event of death, their family would receive a substantial payout in compensation.
In a small border city like Emberfire City, six gold coins were enough for an ordinary family to live on for a whole year.
Consequently, not only the local people of Emberfire City but also adventurers from surrounding towns rushed over in droves.
Party after party flooded into Emberfire City to register in the guild hall.
Within two days, over three hundred adventurers had registered. Among them, Mid-Tier practitioners alone numbered forty-one.
A scale like this was unprecedented in the history of Emberfire City.
...
On the evening before their departure, Sevein gathered the core members in the rear hall of the hostel.
Garland, Harold, Thornt, Morris, as well as the leader of Sevein's guard: a Fifth-Tier warrior named Reno.
"Our forces are fully assembled." Harold opened the roster.
"Per Young Master Lawrence's requirements, all registered adventurers accepted are Second-Tier or higher, totaling three hundred and twenty-six individuals, with forty-five Mid-Tier practitioners; thirty elites from the City Guard; plus Young Master Lawrence's guard squad."
"That makes three hundred and sixty-six in total."
Sevein nodded, his gaze sweeping over everyone present.
"What about equipment and supplies?"
"President Delvin has already prepared them," Morris replied.
"Three days' worth of dry rations, drinking water, emergency potions, simple stretchers, and weapon repair tools. Fully funded by the Merchant Guild at a fair price."
"Very good."
Sevein stood up and walked over to the map hanging on the wall.
It was a sketch map of the Whispering Forest, drawn over the past few days based on reports from adventurers and intelligence from the scouting party.
"Intelligence indicates that the gnoll tribe is located in the northern part of the forest. Following our newly mapped route upstream along the largest river in the forest, it will take about half a day's journey."
He pointed his finger at a location on the map.
"The gnoll tribe numbers around three hundred, with a Seventh-Tier chieftain and an evil god priest."
"Our goal is clear: destroy the altar, interrupt the Evil God Descent ritual, and eliminate all the gnolls."
He turned toward the crowd.
"Master Garland, you will be responsible for dealing with that Seventh-Tier chieftain."
Garland gave a slight nod without speaking.
"Guildmaster Harold, Commander Thornt, the two of you will be responsible for pinning down the black-robed figure."
"If the opponent's strength is Sixth-Tier or above, do not fight them head-on. Delay for time as much as possible, and regroup once Master Garland finishes off the chieftain."
"Reno, take five squad members to support Guildmaster Harold and Commander Thornt."
"Understood," the three answered in unison.
"As for the altar..." Sevein paused.
"I will lead a squad myself and look for an opportunity to destroy it once the battle begins."
"Young master?!" The expressions of Morris and the guard captain changed. "You plan to go in person?"
"Of course," Sevein said, his tone calm.
"I am funding and organizing this subjugation expedition. If I hide away in the city myself, how can I command respect?"
"Besides," he pointed at the staff at his waist.
"I am a Fourth-Tier mage. While my strength isn't particularly great, I'm certainly no dead weight either. Destroying the altar requires more than raw martial force; my presence will be useful."
"But..."
"Morris," Sevein interrupted him.
"I know what you want to say. This time, it's different."
Morris fell silent.
He looked at this young master, a swirl of complex emotions filling his heart.
Back in the Royal Capital, Sevein was merely the second son of the Lawrence Family—mediocre and inconspicuous, living in his elder brother's shadow.
Yet upon arriving at the border, when confronted with a real crisis, he demonstrated a sense of responsibility beyond his years.
"Young master," Morris bowed deeply.
"Enough," Sevein waved his hand.
"We have a tough battle to fight tomorrow. Everyone should get some rest early."
...
Early the next morning, the subjugation force set out into the dawn light.
Sevein rode a bay horse, wearing lightweight leather armor over his mage robes, with his staff and a shortsword hanging at his waist.
His expression was calm, yet a trace of nervousness was hidden deep within his eyes.
This was his first time participating in actual combat.
Mock training in the academy and true combat were entirely different matters.
Garland walked near the front of the column, still wearing that same set of old warrior armor and carrying that same unadorned standard-issue longsword.
His gaze swept across the entire force, finally resting on Sevein.
That the young master intended to join the fight in person had caught him by surprise as well.
However, he didn't stop him either.
He knew that some things had to be experienced firsthand for true growth to occur.
Harold and Thornt stood on either side of the column, each leading their respective subordinates.
The thirty elites of the City Guard were all battle-tested veterans, well-equipped and strictly disciplined.
The three-hundred-plus adventurers were dispersed throughout the column according to their respective party formations. Though lacking the discipline of regular troops, they excelled in experience and adaptability.
"Everyone!"
Sevein pulled on his reins and turned to face the entire force.
Amplified by magic, his voice reached everyone's ears with crisp clarity.
"I believe everyone already knows that what we are setting out to subjugate today is no ordinary monster."
"Gnolls, around three hundred in number, led by a Seventh-Tier chieftain, as well as a priest."
"They worship an evil god and are attempting to bring catastrophe upon this land."
"Whether from bards in the taverns or legends passed down among adventurers, you all should know the consequences of such a disaster."
"Our journey has but a single purpose: to stop them."
"For our homes, for our loved ones, and for yourselves!"
"May the gods bless us, and may victory be ours!"
As his words fell, a low rumble of shouts echoed through the force.
"Victory!"
"Victory!"
The voices grew louder and louder, finally converging into a roaring torrent that reverberated across the open ground before the city gates.
Sevein took a deep breath, turning to gaze in the direction of the Whispering Forest.
"Move out!"
...
The subjugation force departed Emberfire City and advanced along the trade road toward the Whispering Forest.
The column moved at a steady pace, its march formation having been adjusted according to plan.
Harold arranged for over a dozen rangers to scout ahead and along the flanks to ensure they would not be ambushed.
Thornt's City Guard brought up the rear to prevent anyone from straggling or being caught off guard by sneaky attacks.
The three-hundred-plus adventurers were scattered through the middle of the column, marching according to their respective parties.
Garland remained near Sevein the entire time, his gaze scanning their surroundings vigilantly.
Though his duty was to protect the young master, he knew that on the battlefield, he had to be the blade first and foremost.
Only by slaying the strongest enemy could he truly guarantee the young master's safety.
After marching for roughly an hour, the force reached the edge of the Whispering Forest.
Towering trees blocked out the sky, and a damp, chilly chill hung heavy within the woods.
"Stay alert from now on," Sevein instructed in a low voice.
"According to plan, we will follow the largest river upstream. It should take about half a day to reach the gnoll tribe."
The force pressed onward, entering the depths of the forest.
...
Meanwhile, in the southwestern corner of the Whispering Forest.
Grok stood on the gravelly bank of a small river, full of anxiety as he repeatedly looked around.
Before long, a fiery-red figure descended from the sky.
"Lord Kael," he immediately straightened up and addressed the red dragon.
"The humans have mobilized. This time, there are vast numbers of them."
Kael landed on the riverbank, his golden slit pupils turned toward the north of the forest.
Through reports from Grok and the old priest, he had long been aware of human movements inside the Whispering Forest recently.
"Looks like they're getting serious," Kael muttered in a low voice.
Resting his chin on a dragon claw, his mind whirred rapidly.
Given Emberfire City's current strength, the human force should include Mid-Tier or even High-Tier practitioners. That ought to be enough to handle three hundred or so gnolls and a Seventh-Tier chieftain.
But that black-robed figure...
Kael recalled the intelligence brought back by the old priest: that black-robed figure's strength might be above the gnoll chieftain's.
If the human force's high-tier fighters were pinned down by the black-robed figure while the gnoll chieftain ran amok on the battlefield, then the descent ritual...
"No, I need to go see for myself." Kael came to a decision.
He unfurled his dragon wings, preparing to take flight.
"Lord Kael, you are going?" Grok asked, sounding somewhat nervous.
"It's... very dangerous there."
"I know," Kael said.
"You head back."
He soared into the sky, activating his talent "Turn a Blind Eye," and flew off toward the northern part of the forest.
If the humans can handle it, I'll be glad to kick back. If they can't handle it...
Kael's dragon pupils narrowed slightly.
"Then I'll have to figure something out."
Watching the dark-red figure disappear among the treetops, Grok tightened his grip on the bone spear in his hand.
"Lord Kael... please return safely."
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