The cries of battle shook the heavens and earth.

It was as if black feathered arrows covered the sky, countless Undead surged past on the red earth, and the sounds from behind were indistinguishable between Human despair, anger, or tragedy. Frey tried her best to turn around but couldn't move a muscle. Then the girl saw a Knight covered in white phosphorous flames sitting on a skeletal warhorse approaching her, looking down from above with eyes burning with fierce flames, a gaze she relived every night this week.

But this dream was so real that Frey was too tense to speak, staring wide-eyed at the Knight.

"You weren't meant to wake up; the destiny borne by the descendants of the Valkyrie is far too heavy," the knight said in a hoarse, wind-leaking voice. "Do not stake everything for a belief that is unrealistic."

The knight raised the Longsword in his hand: "Retreat, or you will have nowhere to turn!" This voice sounded like a stern warning, as his hand thrust forward, the cold blade stabbing into her heart.

"Ah—" Frey screamed in fright, sitting up in cold sweat. She couldn't help but clutch her chest, breathing lightly, unsure if this nightmare that tormented her daily was some sort of omen or a result of the recent training pressure.

She felt her heart pounding when the swift footsteps in the hallway quickly drowned out the sound. The dim light reminded Frey she had returned to reality, and the footsteps outside must be those of the knights delivering messages—since the war in the South began, the number of personnel conveying intelligence seemed to have increased several times. Large and small forces were temporarily attracted by the sudden war, even forgetting that the Kingdom itself was on the brink of civil war. Everyone knew that the Northern Dukes would at least wait until the snow melted before moving south past Ambeser; relatively, the war in Denell seemed like the 'appetizer before the main course,' as Ou Fuwei'er jokingly called it.

For the Erune Nobles themselves, this appetizer was no less than a great irony, but the nobles didn't seem to mind, happily waiting to see how many teeth Jandener, this old tiger, had left. Most people considered this a question of how many teeth Count Rangdenier still had; of course, at the Royal Knight Academy, there were those who believed Brand could win. At least Frey awaited news from the front lines with anxiety every day.

The Messenger passed through the long corridor, through the courtyard behind the dormitory, where battle news was first delivered to Princess Griffine. The Half-Elf Princess coldly read the few lines on the thin Parchment she held, then put it down—the news that Pallas's army had engaged with the 'Rebel Army' had arrived but hadn't made any substantial progress.

"A day or two more," Princess Griffine thought, telling the Messenger: "Copy several copies and take them to the other Lords."

"Should the other Lords be asked to come?"

"No need, later there's the Winter Zither Moon competition and Winter Dusk hunting event, help me prepare, I wish to see it personally."

The Messenger bowed and exited.

...

'Cunning Fox' Macaro finished reading the intelligence in his hand and couldn't help shaking his head with a slight chuckle. He intended to place the intelligence on top of the tall stack of documents on his office desk, but then reconsidered, stopped his original action, and walked out of his room with the thin Parchment in hand.

Holding the intelligence, Macaro went directly to Count Violet's residence but was stopped by the servants, informed his friend had already gone to visit the competition arena, and Macaro remembered that there was such an event. Hastily, he borrowed a carriage to head to the competition arena several miles away.

The Winter Zither Moon competition had a long history in Erune and the entire Southern Cruz, with events including Riding Skill, Gun Skill, and swordsmanship. These competitions are mainly a way for knights from each region to prove their honor, young people are passionate about such activities, and the public can satisfy their hero complex through the competition. At the Royal Knight Academy, such activities have even greater significance, as academy members fiercely compete for the holly-leaf woven crown to prove themselves as the year's most outstanding Knight.