"So, these structures are relics from the previous era... and the wills moving within them belong to that same time. Then the question is, what is their purpose?"

After exchanging a few words with Johnson and Ceylon, Edward frowned, lost in thought. He already grasped the general situation; what remained uncertain was the purpose of those bygone existences that had begun to stir within ruins scattered across the world.

"What makes Aleisterre so... unusual? Or rather, what has changed in recent times?"

Tracing the threads through several crucial points, Edward soon found a possible clue. If the war between Selwyn and Aleisterre was only one link in a greater plan, then the next step was simple: find whoever had set that plan in motion.

"Donatien Charlemagne... and behind him, the Royal Astrologer Selene. When Wang Yu slew that woman who had been manipulating Donatien from behind the scenes, he told me that they were plotting to create a utopia. Could that be what has summoned all these existences...?"

Step by step, Edward followed the line of thought to a tentative yet plausible conclusion. It wasn't difficult to imagine.

"Enough thinking for now. The ruins on the tundra are shifting. Something's coming."

A hand settled firmly on Edward's shoulder. The shockwave from the anomaly would soon reach Winterhold. They had to deal with it first. Only afterward could they afford to ponder.

"Understood, Uller."

Edward nodded, his gaze fixed on the boundless white plain wreathed in a blizzard. Beyond that veil of snow lay the ancient ruins buried deep within the St. Anna Peaks. At this moment, only the eternal howl of the wind and a deep, rumbling tremor broke the silence. As Uller had said, something was indeed coming.

"All soldiers, hear my command! To the walls! Drag out every ballista and cannon you can find. Prepare to fire!"

The Grand Duke of Lionheart, Leon Leonardo, had, upon his arrival at Winterhold, assumed undisputed command. Every soldier and warrior present now moved according to his orders.

The city guard and the troops who had returned with Edward sprang into action, hauling ballistae into position and loading alchemical cannons and mana-charged explosives from the armory. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

Only a hundred warriors remained outside the gates—Leon, Uller, Edward, and their elite retinue. As the mechanical gates groaned open, they stepped out into the blinding snowstorm.

Uller drew a banner of gold and crimson from his back, upon which a lion's head was emblazoned. With a mighty thrust, he planted it at the forefront of their formation. At once, fighting spirit surged from within him, bursting outward in a storm of energy that enveloped the surrounding air.

The wind that had cut like blades now softened. The ice crystals that had scoured their armor began to drift gently. The biting storm turned docile, and ice mana itself circled their formation in protective arcs, as though saluting a knightly host.

The rest of the warriors roared in unison. Their fighting spirits flared, interlinking through a practiced martial array.

The energy of each man wove into the next until all converged upon Uller, whose awakened inner potential magnified their power a hundredfold.

Uller's potential, Heart of the Wild, was a technique unimpressive in weak hands, but devastating when wielded by a true grand knight. It made the very world around its bearer grow "friendly." Beneath Uller's command, even the blizzard itself seemed to succumb to his might.

The storm ceased within their ranks. Though snow and wind still ravaged the world beyond, around Uller's banner lay a tranquil zone of calm, a windless eye within the tempest.

The power of this potential extended far beyond what was visible. It was precisely this gift of command that had earned Uller his place as Grand Marshal of the Royal Guard.

"Stay sharp," Uller said, his eyes narrowing. "The enemy approaches. These are magical creatures each as strong as a mid-tier knight or greater. And another force is gathering... if I'm right, it's the mental strike those guides mentioned."

His perception swept far into the distance, sensing every disturbance on the tundra.

"I'll handle the mental assault," said Edward, his voice calm. "Father, Uller,you can focus on the creatures themselves."

He narrowed his eyes. Through the swirling snow, the silhouettes of frost-helmed giants marched forward, their steps shaking the ground. Fighting spirit ignited within him as his potential, Bastion, manifested. His soul reached out to the God of Light and the Lady of the Night in unison.

"Defensive formation!" Leon commanded. "City guards, by my order, open fire!"

Acknowledging Edward's readiness with a curt nod, the Duke unsheathed his sword and leveled it toward the approaching frost giants.

The first volley erupted.

From the walls, the city guard unleashed everything they had: bolts from giant crossbows, flaming shells, blazing mana beams, all screaming through the air toward the oncoming tide.

The sky above the battlefield lit up with explosions.

Yet the frost giants did not falter. As the bombardment rained down, immense torrents of ice mana surged around them, coalescing into a colossal crystalline barrier. The shield rose to meet the barrage, intercepting each impact with a deafening chain of detonations.

Blinding blossoms of flame and frost lit the storm. Shattered ice cascaded from above, only to be seized by the howling winds and reforged midair into blades of spinning frost.

"In the snowfields, they hold every advantage," Edward muttered. "The endless storm is their source of power. That shield doesn't need to block everything. It's just enough to trigger the blasts early. It's all they need to survive our barrage."

He could already tell that these were no mindless beasts. The frost giants fought with coordination and tactical intent. And once the enemy began to think, the battle ahead would be far harder than anyone wished to imagine.

"There's movement beneath the snowpack. Something's coming. And many more are converging from the flanks. The frost creatures advancing from the front must be a diversion."

Uller's warning rang out sharp and clear. His heightened perception traced the unseen movements beneath the frozen field, sparing their formation from an ambush. Even so, the situation was grim. The city's artillery could offer little aid to the Grand Duke's army now.

"In that case," said Grand Duke Leon, his tone steeled with resolve, "ready for close combat. Their supply of energy is endless. Defending or stalling will only doom us. Edward, we're counting on you."

Having settled on their strategy, Leon began to gather power for his own potential while entrusting the rest to his son.

Edward drew a deep breath. Then, he invoked his bulwark. Divine magic from both the Lady of the Night and the God of Light flared. The invisible fortress expanded, its protection extending to every soldier in the field, even those manning the walls.

A wave of psychic force, vast and terrible, erupted from the depths of the snowfield, only to be intercepted by Edward's barrier.

The overwhelming mental impact surged into his soul, colliding with the radiant gold of divine power within him. Light and mind clashed—and light prevailed. Compared to the godly terror Edward had once endured in the capital, this psychic assault was feeble. Within seconds, it was reduced to nothing.

Then the Lady of the Night's power arrived, a torrent of divine darkness pouring down from the heavens. It unfurled into a vast black canopy, falling like a curtain between the two armies.

To the creatures of frost, the sight was baffling: a seamless wall of shadow had suddenly swallowed the battlefield. Behind it, Winterhold and its defenders vanished from their senses. They could sense no sight, no sound, no trace of life.

Their momentary confusion turned to chaos when explosions blossomed among their ranks.

One frost behemoth's chestplate erupted in a violent burst of light and flame. The city's heavy weapons, crude but devastating, rarely struck true—but when they did, even the mightiest could be maimed.

The creature stumbled backward, its armor shattered, the hollow ice core within it exposed. Though its expression remained hidden, it was plainly bewildered.

Before its kin could react, another fell, pierced clean through by a massive ballista bolt. Detonations thundered one after another, rending their formation apart.

It was an invisible bombardment. As the defenders' attacks crossed the dark veil, the Lady's power cloaked them in shadow, rendering every missile unseen and untrackable. To the frost legion, it was as though death itself had descended without form or warning.

After several precious moments of panic, their shared will reached a decision: charge. They would break through the strange curtain and strike the defenders directly.

With a deafening boom, a wall of ice surged from the ground ahead of them, an enormous barrier driven forward across the snow. Beneath it, concealed within the buried drifts, scuttled an entire vanguard of frost scorpions, their bodies sculpted from solid ice. They advanced as living siege engines through the storm of fire.

Even with the wall as their shield, the frost giants were battered by blasts and shockwaves. Yet they pressed on, aided by the endless blizzard, nearing the black veil that marked Winterhold's defenses.

Then, before the scorpion vanguard could breach the curtain, a crimson blade of fighting spirit carved through the darkness. The slash ripped the ice bulwark apart as if it were paper, obliterating both barrier and beasts in a single blazing stroke. The frost scorpions shattered into drifting shards of snow.

Another explosion thundered, this time from within the black veil. Out from that darkness charged a host of armored knights, their forms gleaming with red radiance. Upon their ranks shimmered the spectral image of a lion's head, fierce and proud.

That crimson light enshrouded each warrior, reinforcing their strength until they became an unstoppable tide. Their charge tore through the enemy like a storm unleashed, the frozen battlefield trembling beneath their advance.

The potential of the Grand Duke of Lionheart, Path of Glory, was unveiled in full. This was the power that had made the Lionheart Knights the strongest order in Aleisterre. "For the road we tread is the road of kings—and our journey's end lies far beyond this field."