The holy standard of Everbright fluttered in the wind as the golden-armored host crested the hill overlooking Durnvale—one of the Elysium-controlled supply town west of Hyparia.
It wasn't just a trade post. It was the King of Elysium territory for feeding his advance camps, housing not only weapons and rations, but artificers, beast tamers, and summoners.
Though, not the only supply town, but it was enough to disturb the wave of war for now.
His forces here weren't green conscripts either. They were elite and fortified.
A normal army would have retreated.
But Saintess Marienne wasn't a normal commander.
Her white cloak fluttered behind her, pristine even with the mud clinging to her boots. She stood beside her senior knights, eyes scanning the enemy formation with chilling precision with a telescope in hand.
Thirty-five hundred Elysium troops, with beast riders and at least one summoner—heavily entrenched behind makeshift palisades and reinforced by magical barriers.
