Two months.

Two months of marching, preparation, and growing tension.

And finally—

The southern coalition reached the western frontier of Elarion.

The first scouts arrived before dawn.

Riders emerged from the snowy tree lines overlooking the northern valleys before immediately retreating southward again.

By midday—

The horizon itself began moving.

Long columns of soldiers emerged through the mountain passes beneath countless noble banners snapping violently in the freezing wind.

Mana cavalry rode beneath enchanted standards glowing faintly through the snow while ranks of mana-armored infantry marched in disciplined formations across the valleys below.

Behind them came:

siege engines,

supply caravans,

artillery beasts,

mage detachments,

and tens of thousands of infantry levies.

The coalition army spread across the frontier like an ocean of steel and banners.

It was enormous.

And the southern nobles loved every second of it.

Trumpets echoed across the valleys as the army established massive encampments within sight of Elarion’s defensive lines.

Rows upon rows of campfires soon covered the snow-covered plains while soldiers erected command tents and siege positions.

The coalition commanders gathered atop a ridge overlooking the northern frontier shortly afterward.

And for the first time—

They saw the trenches of Elarion in full.

Long defensive lines scarred the frozen valleys. Razor wire stretched across killing fields hidden beneath snow. Artillery bunkers overlooked the mountain approaches. Layered trenches connected through tunnels and reinforced strongpoints.

One younger noble frowned slightly.

"...That is a lot of fortifications."

Another immediately laughed.

"They dug holes."

Several surrounding nobles chuckled openly afterward.

One mana knight scoffed while looking toward the trench systems below.

"Cowards hide underground."

Another noble pointed toward the razor wire.

"What even is that supposed to accomplish?"

"Stop rabbits perhaps."

Laughter spread again.

The southern aristocracy simply could not take the defenses seriously.

Because to them—

Wars were won through:

knight charges,

mana superiority,

elite cavalry,

overwhelming numbers.

Not dirt walls and steel wire.

Then the discussion shifted toward rifles.

And somehow—

The arrogance became even worse.

One southern commander adjusted his fur cloak dismissively while staring toward the northern trenches.

"So these are the famous rifle armies."

Another noble smirked.

"Flintlock peasants."

Several officers laughed immediately.

One mage commander shook his head.

"I watched one during testing months ago." "Slow reload." "Smoke everywhere." "Poor accuracy."

Another noble added mockingly:

"They miss half their shots beyond proper bow range."

More laughter followed.

To the southern nobles, rifles still looked primitive.

Unrefined.

Inferior to:

mana-enhanced archers,elite knights,magical warfare.

One cavalry commander snorted openly.

"They rely on noise and fear."

Another nodded confidently.

"A mana barrier alone reduces half their threat."

Then one older noble spoke dismissively:

"Yes, perhaps rifles are troublesome now."

His gaze moved toward the trench systems.

"But if this is their greatest weapon..."

He gave a cold smile.

"...what happens when they face real armies?"

Agreement spread immediately afterward.

The southern commanders simply could not imagine firearms evolving further.

To them—

Rifles had already reached their limit.

Loud. Crude. Inaccurate.

Nothing more.

One noble even laughed while looking toward the distant trenches.

"If these weapons truly improve someday..."

He waved dismissively.

"...then perhaps they become dangerous in another century."

More amusement followed.

Because none of them understood.

They still viewed rifles as strange support weapons.

Not the future foundation of warfare itself.

Only Kassian Valcriox remained silent.

The ducal heir stood slightly apart from the others while observing the trenches carefully through his spyglass.

Unlike the others—

He noticed details.

The overlapping firing positions. The hidden artillery placements. The suspicious silence from the trenches themselves.

No panic. No scrambling soldiers. No visible confusion.

Just calm preparation.

That unsettled him slightly.

One allied noble noticed his expression afterward.

"You seem unconvinced, Lord Kassian."

Kassian lowered the spyglass slowly.

"I think Lucien prepared more thoroughly than you realize."

Another noble snorted dismissively.

"For trenches?"

"For war."

Silence followed briefly.

Then the same noble laughed openly.

"War?" "He has flintlocks and factories."

Kassian’s gaze remained fixed northward.

"Yes."

The noble smiled arrogantly.

"And we have armies."

That single sentence summarized the southern coalition perfectly.

They still believed:

manpower,noble lineage and traditional military superiority

would overwhelm everything else.

Even now—

They did not truly understand what Elarion had become.

Far across the frozen valleys, Elarion observed the southern encampments from fortified ridge positions.

Thousands upon thousands of enemy campfires now filled the horizon beneath the snowy darkness.

One young rifleman stared quietly from the trench walls.

"...There are so many."

Beside him, another soldier calmly adjusted ammunition belts for a nearby machine gun nest.

"Good."

The younger soldier blinked.

"...Good?"

The veteran nodded toward the southern camps below.

"They packed themselves tightly."

The younger rifleman slowly looked toward the machine gun position.

Then toward the artillery bunkers above the valley.

And suddenly—

He understood.

Inside the central frontier command bunker, Lucien stood beside the operational maps while reports continued arriving.

"Enemy encampments completed."

"Mana cavalry concentrated on the eastern valley." "Siege forces preparing deployment positions." "Assault formations expected tomorrow morning."

Cedric folded his arms nearby.

"They’re confident."

Lucas gave a dry laugh.

"They think trenches are weakness." "And rifles are toys."

Far below the bunker, another machine gun test echoed faintly through the frontier lines.

Lucien remained calm afterward.

"Arrogance shortens wars."

Malen slowly nodded.

Because honestly—

The southern coalition had already made its first major mistake.

They looked at Elarion’s defenses and saw fear.

They looked at rifles and saw crude weapons.

They looked at factories and saw strange northern experiments.

Instead of understanding:

The old world stood at the edge of extinction—

And tomorrow morning it would begin dying in the snow.