Ashen Dragon-Chapter 118 - 48 War (12)

Seeing the rising fire wall and the enemies scattering in all directions, Dolores snorted white smoke from his nostrils, gripped his axe, and was about to charge into the enemy lines.

But Ramp stopped him.

"It’s time to retreat, Captain Dolores."

Dolores turned his head in confusion, his blood-red eyes filled with resentment, "Ramp, in such a situation, you want me to retreat? Did you take those humans’ gold coins?"

Ramp replied calmly, "This is the master’s order. Do you also want to defy it?"

Dolores spat on the ground and said viciously, "Ramp, don’t be too pleased with yourself, I will report all your inaction in this war to the master truthfully."

"Hmph, let’s go!"

Then, the Goblin Chieftain gathered his troops, preparing to return to the northern pass.

Dolores, in the end, had not completely lost his mind in the frenzy of battle. He knew there was a reason for Ramp’s certainty.

Ramp no longer paid attention to the furious Goblin Chieftain. Instead, he took out a special Green-Footed Dragon-Serpent Horn from the dimensional bag, covered with magic runes.

He easily activated it. Find your next read at novelbuddy

Immediately, the majestic voice of the Red Dragon, recorded by magic, thundered across the battlefield.

"Ashen Nest kin—"

"Heed the command, full retreat!"

Ramp followed with a loud shout:

"This is the master’s order, the will of the great Red Dragon!"

The Ogre, who had been smashing soldiers into pulp, raised his head, the Chimera with its three heads turned in confusion, the Lizardfolk withdrew their bloodied bone spears, the Wyvern that had been diving and spewing fire spread its wings and slowly ascended...

Although the Ashen Nest kin didn’t understand why they had to retreat, the command of the Red Dragon was unquestionable.

So, even though they were fighting fiercely, they reluctantly left the battlefield, following orders to withdraw from the front lines. The Ogres and Great Goblins ran, the Land Dragon Beasts moved slowly, the Wyverns and Chimeras flew in the sky, all heading towards the kin camp north of the Throat of Triel.

Soon, the ground was left with only blood, human and monster corpses, and burning embers.

"Am I dreaming?"

"They... left?"

"The Gods be praised, these monsters retreated!"

"I... I actually survived..."

"My God—"

The Allied Soldiers, having just endured a brutal battle, stood in place, dazed. Most were covered in wounds and blood, muttering to themselves as if in a dream.

This inexplicable "victory" didn’t make them cheer as usual; they felt a sense of surviving a catastrophe.

...

The staff officer rode up, panting, and reported, "Sir, Sir! All the Ashen Nest kin have retreated!"

Robert wiped the sweat from his forehead and exhaled deeply. At least he no longer had to worry about being attacked.

But faced with the situation, he still felt puzzled, "They clearly had the absolute advantage, why retreated?"

Sir Schroeder, the "Grey Hawk," who had also withdrawn from the front line, stood by and pondered for a moment before saying in a low voice, "The Red Dragon is a greedy and stingy creature that rarely bestows goodwill. Perhaps the power of these monsters isn’t granted. And any power comes with a price."

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"In other words, it’s possible they’re burning their own life force."

Robert mused for a moment before speaking, "So you mean..."

"Ashen Nest fears prolonged warfare?"

Schroeder’s voice was hoarse, "It’s just a reasonable guess."

"I can only say... maybe so."

Robert stepped out of the tent, gazing at the backs of the flying Wyverns in the sky, finally gritting his teeth and making a decision.

"Then pursue!"

"This is the Allied Forces’ last chance."

"We must not let them recover!"

The loud sound of the charging horn blew. At Robert’s command, the Allied Soldiers continued to advance, reclaiming their former positions, but their progress was slow.

The soldiers moved sluggishly, step by step, and even the warhorses let out exhausted neighs.

"Soldiers, victory is within sight!"

"These monsters can’t hold on much longer!"

"You will become heroes maintaining the Northern Order!"

The Military Governor officers shouted passionately, but the soldiers only looked on coldly.

"Victory? What a joke."

"Has this guy ever seen the fangs of a Wyvern?"

"Has he ever been hit by an Ogre’s club?"

Discontented whispers rose among the ranks.

These soldiers, who had endured brutal combat, were already weary and reluctant to fight, only avoiding desertion out of self-preservation. Despite the Military Governor officers’ repeated emphasis on the monsters’ retreat, the soldiers still followed at a slow pace, afraid of catching up too quickly.

And using this passive resistance, even the Military Governor couldn’t punish them by military law.

...

North of the Throat of Triel.

Ramp stood halfway up the mountain, overlooking the slowly pursuing Allied Forces, a hint of an expectant smile appearing on his ugly face.

"You people of the North,"

"You finally come to meet your doom..."

Surrounded by Ogres, Great Goblins, Kobolds, Lizardfolk, and other Ashen Kin, even the captured nobles were brought here.

They were noisy and boisterous, the frenzy of battle not yet fully dissipated.

"I killed twelve humans with my hammer."

"Haha, I crushed them alive."

"It’s a pity, I wanted to taste their blood again."

"Tsk, tsk, here you go."

As they spoke, their greedy eyes couldn’t help but glance at the noble captives.

Viscount Luton, terrified by the nearby monsters, nervously asked the Tiefling, "Sir, you brought us here for what?"

"Please ensure our safety."

Mezulash smiled without answering.

"I was fighting so well, why did we retreat?"

"Yeah, I only gained six hundred contributions."

"Is the war over?"

"Is there a final mission?"

"No cinematic?"

The players, following the quest lead, also arrived at the camp halfway up the mountain to watch the spectacle.

Seeing the approaching Allied Forces in the distance, Ramp raised his Magic Wand.

[Stone Wall Spell]

They heard a rumbling sound from the ground.

A thick stone wall slowly rose, completely sealing off the last exit of the Throat of Triel, trapping nearly ten thousand Allied remnants in the Triel Valley.

"This is what the master means by ’catching a turtle in a jar’."

Ramp looked down at the uproarious Allied Forces below, mumbling to himself.