When humans moved, they left behind far more traces than one might imagine. The Kretas knight order tracked the enemy’s movements through these traces and found where Diogres and his forces were heading.

As Elezar had predicted, they were indeed moving toward the Pellantia Mountains. In the process, the knights also managed to gauge the approximate size of the enemy’s forces. They totalled around a thousand to eleven hundred. The Tower of Dawn had approximately one hundred mages, which meant there were roughly a thousand regular soldiers.

Sir Etiel, Captain of the Second Squad of the Kretas knight order, asked, "Think they have any aura users?"

Sir Rals, who commanded the third squad, shook his head. "There aren’t any aura users under the Tower of Dawn."

The magic tower, after all, was strictly an academic institution. Since it wasn’t a noble house with its own territory, it had no authority to officially knight anyone. They could hire regular soldiers, but they couldn’t command knights.

And most aura users held knighthoods. Just like in Serati’s case, even those of common birth, once they awakened their aura, would receive offers of knighthood from all directions. Unless one was a heinous criminal, becoming a knight was not difficult, and there were few who would refuse it.

That was why even an archmage like Elezar kept no aura users under her direct command and instead operated together with Dreltein’s Kretas knights.

"But they have Search Black, don’t they? There are quite a few formidable ones among them," said Sir Rals.

Sir Etiel nodded. "Sir Desteran will definitely be there, and likely Joran and Victor as well."

"Perhaps even Frederick and Martin," said Rals.

Search Black was a criminal organization operating in and around the capital. Thus, they had long been in frequent conflict with the Kretas Order, which was also based in the capital. As such, they were well acquainted.

Sir Rals clicked his tongue. "Never thought I’d have to face those annoying bastards again in a place like this."

***

The second punitive expedition against the Tower of Dawn shifted its march toward the Pellantia Mountains, and three thousand troops advanced in orderly formations across the barren wasteland.

At the front of the march was a knight in his mid-thirties. He had a playful expression as he rode his horse. He spoke up. "If you think about it, we already conquered the Tower of Dawn, didn’t we? So should we still be called the punitive force against the Tower of Dawn?"

It was Sir Martun, a blue knight and captain of the Kretas Order’ Fourth Squad.

A subordinate knight shrugged. "Once a name is set, it can’t be changed until the operation ends."

"Well, that’s true." Martun turned his gaze back ahead. "At first, I didn’t understand why they would abandon the Tower of Dawn..."

His eyes were fixed on the Pellantia Mountains, which was faintly visible through the clouds beyond the wasteland. "But maybe, for Master Diogres, it wasn’t such a bad choice."

For one, Elezar’s Replica Tower had been rendered useless. They could drag it as far as the Tower of Dawn on flat ground, but hauling it up into the mountains? That was a physically impossible task.

In the end, with no other choice, they had to return it to its original hiding place. By abandoning his own magic tower, Diogres had rendered theirs unusable as well. In other words, Diogres’ forces hadn’t suffered any real loss in strength.

"If we knew this would happen, they shouldn’t have ordered us to move it in the first place. They just made the engineers suffer for nothing. Higher-ups never understand what it’s like for those below them," commented Martin.

A subordinate knight raised an eyebrow. "But aren’t you a higher-up yourself, Captain Martun?"

"I’m more like middle management, if you think about it! It’s tough being stuck between both sides." Feigning a troubled look that was anything but, Martun then pointed toward the mountains. "Though, once we’re up there, I’ll end up becoming a higher-up."

His words were strange, but the subordinate immediately understood. On flat ground, an army of three thousand was not a large number. It was easy to maintain formations and operate efficiently. But it was a different story in rugged mountains.

They would have no choice but to split their forces into squads, and Martun would inevitably be in charge of one of them.

Martun grumbled, looking displeased. "This is the perfect setup to get picked off one by one."

***

Elezar and Dreltein, too, fully understood Diogres’s intentions. However, their thoughts differed slightly from Sir Martun’s.

"Wasn’t this the kind of tactic only useful when Lord Tesranach employed it?" commented Dreltein.

"It’s a bit questionable for Diogres to use it under these circumstances," agreed Elezar.

Most things in the world had pros and cons, and encirclement tactics were no exception. If executed well, one could destroy a larger enemy force with a smaller one, but with even the slightest misstep, it was the perfect setup to be surrounded and annihilated.

In this respect, the undead armies commanded by necromancers were extremely useful. Once given an order, they would never disobey their commander’s intent. They would carry out their instructions simply and precisely.

But living soldiers? Elezar voiced the concern. "Will their morale really hold if they’re driven into those rugged mountains?"

Undead soldiers could simply be laid on the ground without issue. Whether it rained, snowed, or dew covered them, they would not utter a single complaint. But the living could not maintain their combat readiness merely by being fed. They needed places to rest comfortably and sleep.

And yet, Diogres had abandoned the comfortable stronghold of the Tower of Dawn and thrown his soldiers into the harsh mountains. It wasn’t just any mountain either. The Pellantia Mountains was a living hell swarming with powerful monsters.

As time passed, morale would inevitably plummet, and there might even be instances of insubordination. There was a reason why regular armies did not recklessly employ guerrilla tactics.

"It’s not just the soldiers, either..." Elezar shook her head. "The mages are used to living comfortably in their tower. Do you think they can maintain their combat readiness while sleeping rough in the mountains? I doubt it."

***

Six days later, the second punitive expedition against the Tower of Dawn entered the Pellantia Mountains. As expected, Diogres’s forces employed classic guerrilla tactics. The moment the expedition made camp at the mountain’s entrance, they were ambushed.

Darkness covered the mountain paths as a streak of fire split the night sky, and the flaming meteor slammed into a section of the expedition’s camp. The explosion shattered the night’s silence.

Dozens more of the same followed. It was the fire-type spell, Fireball. Black smoke began rising from various parts of the expedition’s encampment, but the smoke quickly dissipated. The mages from the imperial magic tower had been prepared. They began chanting their counter spells, as if they had been waiting for this moment.

"Unfold, wall of water. Aqua Wall!"

"Let the falling rain soak the earth! Rain of Gallantros!"

In an instant, the flames were subdued, and soldiers burst out of their tents.

"It’s an ambush!"

"Prepare for battle!"

Their response was astonishingly swift. The soldiers were already armed, and the mages’ reactions were immediate. The way they reacted indicated that they had been thoroughly prepared.

Sir Etiel, commander of the second squad, drew his aura blade and shouted, "There they are! Pursue them!"

The aura users at the front charged into the forest in unison. Soon, they caught sight of figures frantically fleeing to the other side of the forest. They were mages from the Tower of Dawn, the ones who had launched the fireballs.

"Hmph!"

"Think you can hit us and run?"

In terms of mobility, aura users far outmatched mages. In an instant, the Kretas knight order caught up with the mages. It was then that a group of swordsmen appeared on their left flank.

"Hey!"

"Leave those weak mages alone and come play with us instead!"

Unlike the uniformly armored Kretas knights, these men wore mismatched armor of all kinds. But they shared one thing in common. Each held a radiant aura blade in hand. They, too, were all aura users.

"It’s been a while, Martun!" A man in his forties, with a long scar running across his face, swung down his blue aura blade, his voice filled with murderous intent. "This scar you gave me still aches, you bastard!"

It was Frederick, one of Desteran’s trusted lieutenants and an executive of Search Black. He was a blue knight.

Facing the menacing figure, Martun also drew his aura blade and took his stance. "It still aches? How long ago even was that? Or are you just getting old?"

Frederick shouted back. "Why don’t we find out once I’ve cut you down!"

Their aura was perfectly matched, and the clash sent blue sparks flying in all directions. The situation was much the same everywhere else. Search Black’s aura users and the Kretas Order’ aura users clashed throughout the forest, drawing their aura blades as they fought.

"This time, I’ll take your head, Rals!"

"That’s my line, Joran!"

"How dare a lawless criminal run his mouth!"

Aura met aura from every direction. Each time aura blades struck, brilliant beams of light shot through the darkness between the branches. Movements that transcended human limits continued without pause, red and blue shockwaves tracing dozens of concentric circles through the air.

With each clash of strength between the two groups, trees shattered, leaves scattered, and explosive plumes of smoke rose. Before long, the entire forest became a stage for a thunderous dance of light and sound.

It wasn’t until dozens of silvery chains appeared that the fearsome battle was brought to a halt. With a metallic clatter, chains of aura crashed down between the combatants.

Seeing the wielder of the chains, a Kretas knight shouted, "It’s Desteran!"

Desteran roared at his subordinates, "The ambush failed! Scatter!"

As if waiting for this command, Search Black’s aura users leaped away into the depths of the forest. The knights, eager from the heat of battle, was about to give chase.

However, a deep, commanding voice stopped them. "All units, return to camp."

It was Magnus, a burly man in his mid-forties with a stern expression. He was the vice commander of the Kretas Order and Dreltein’s closest confidant. He was a silver knight, just like Desteran.

"His Excellency has already given his orders." Calmly reorganizing the lines, he continued coldly, "There is no need to dance to their tune."

***

Even after entering the Pellantia Mountains, Dreltein did not divide his forces. Despite the narrow mountain paths and cramped terrain, he continued to operate the troops as a single unit. Doing this eliminated the risk of being defeated after being separated, but it also completely killed their mobility. It meant they could not counterattack if Diogres’s forces launched an ambush. But that didn’t matter.

"I never intended to chase them anyway," he said.

Before entering the mountains, he had given his subordinates an order. If they were ambushed, they were to hold the defensive line and not pursue the enemy.

He had given the order because the enemy’s intentions were obvious. Guerrilla tactics were not employed to annihilate the enemy’s forces. Their sole purpose was to strike at the enemy’s core through sudden raids. Outside of that, such tactics had little use.

It meant they had to lure out Elezar, Dreltein, or the truly strong members of their command, isolate them, and defeat them one by one to achieve their objective. But for this to succeed, there was one absolute condition: Their base of operations must remain hidden.

Guerrilla tactics were effective only when the enemy could not pin down one’s location. If their base was discovered? From that moment, it was no longer guerrilla warfare but simply mountain combat.

Dreltein recalled the days when he was still called a hero of humanity and let out a bitter smile. When Lord Tesranach used these methods on us, there was nothing we could do.

No matter how large an undead army was, it did not require a base. A few tents for the necromancers controlling them were all the base they needed, and in the vast mountains, who could possibly find them?

It would have been easier to find a needle in a haystack. But now? They were dealing with an army of a thousand living soldiers. Even if they tried to hide their camps, the area would span hundreds of meters. They would need to light dozens of fires to keep warm and cook.

No matter how vast the Pellantia Mountains were, there was no way to hide that. It was simply too large. Whether through magic or scouts, it would be easy to find them.

"Field camps can last a day or two at most. You can’t maintain morale any longer than that." Rubbing his chin, Dreltein grinned. "Three days is all I need to find them."

***

Three days passed. There were two more ambushes. As usual, they held the line without pursuit and focused all efforts on locating the enemy’s camp. But something was wrong. They still could not find the enemy’s camp.

It wasn’t a matter of lacking scouting ability. The enemies numbered a thousand. Unless they were blind, there was no way they couldn’t find such a force. Could they possibly be hiding in groups of ten or twenty, scattered separately? Was that why they couldn’t be found?

Impossible. Even if they were in groups of tens, that would be a hundred separate groups, and even in groups of twenty, it would still be fifty groups. Such a number, spread out, would still be too large to go unnoticed.

Dreltein simply could not understand. "Where the hell are these bastards hiding? Are they really sleeping on bare ground out there?"