The War Begins

The war with the Green Forest came very suddenly.

In the month of the Green Banyan's rebirth, Alan was training his group of cannon fodder subordinates when a knight under his father's command, Turner Shorien, rode over on a warhorse and shouted, 'The Davis Family has launched an attack. The lord orders you to go to Black Raven Dunes immediately!'

'Yes, sir!'

Alan struck his chest with his fist and looked at his bewildered subordinates, commanding, 'What are you standing around for? Equip yourselves immediately, we're going to war!'

With this command, all the cannon fodder showed poor expressions.

However, due to the training and obedience instilled in them over these days, they knew who to listen to. With squad leaders like Sanchez and Grimm urging them on, they quickly stabilized.

'My lord!'

Eight Fingers approached Alan at this moment, wearing a tattered iron helmet from who knows where, with no other armor. His face, covered by a bushy beard, showed a tinge of bitterness: 'Can we... win?'

'We must win!'

Alan replied solemnly. As a member of the Sothos Family, the consequences of defeat were too terrible to imagine.

Thinking of this, he cursed his golden finger for being useless.

Over these days, through daily Dream Entry, increasing energy or mysterious units had already strengthened the dream consciousness's power.

At least, he could move faster and perceive more.

But... in the real world, Alan didn't even feel a bit more mentally energetic...

Indeed, transferring the power from dreams to this world was extremely difficult.

Suppressing his thoughts, Alan led his team to Black Raven Dunes.

This dune was situated at the junction between the upper and lower Green Forest, surrounded by a useless sandy wasteland, perfect for a battlefield.

'This timing is rather strange!'

Alan pondered while looking at the farmland on both sides of the road.

The Green Forest people had a very primitive way of keeping time, dividing the year into several months based on plant growth stages.

The number of months was vague because their timekeeping had huge errors, to the point where setting leap years or months couldn't adjust it, so they loosely followed nature, especially the state of [Green Banyan Tree Matriarch].

In the Sothos territory, there was a green banyan tree designated as a 'Divine Tree,' and the months were determined by its state.

Of course, because banyan trees are evergreen and don't shed leaves, the concept of autumn in the Sothos territory was very vague...

Right now, it was the season of growth for all things!

In ancient times, this was the farming season!

Both lords had a standing force of only about a hundred soldiers, and war required the conscription of militia. Fighting like this would delay production and lead to famine next year!

'The Davis Family can't be that stupid, right? Or... have they stored enough grain and want to provoke the Sothos Family into fighting in spring, delaying sowing? If they drag it out till next year, the Sothos Family would crumble without a fight?'

'This could explain why they are the ones who instigated the war...'

Alan thought of a possibility and became more vigilant, knowing that the Davis Family also had ambitions and plans for the complete Green Forest.

Black Raven Dunes.

At this moment, it was divided into northern and southern parts, with camps set up.

By Alan's estimation, the Sothos territory had an army of roughly 1,800, while the Davis Family had nearly 2,000!

'This is no longer a village brawl for wild boars; it's at least a regional conflict!'

Alan, dressed in fine Leather Armor, walked through multiple camps and entered the main tent.

Theodore and Colin were both clad in fine armor, flanked by several knights. Upon seeing him, they all smiled.

'Father!'

Alan stood straight, his face resolute, fist knocking against his chest.

'This is your first war, follow Knight Alfred; he will teach you well.'

Theodore, for once, did not send his son to his death, pointing to a knight with graying hair and a giant flail in his hand.

'Yes, my lord.'

Alan knew this elderly knight was a battle-hardened veteran with rich experience. Being by his side was safer, though not as safe as being with Colin.

Ooooh!

With the mournful sound of horns, Alan followed Knight Alfred to a higher part of the dune.

Nearly 4,000 people formed two different formations, creating a massive battleground around the dune. The dark green and blue banners seemed to divide the earth into two camps.

Among them, the Sothos Family's banner had a dark green background with a branching banyan tree emblem.

As for the Davis Family's crest, it was a lone vertical eye.

'Remember, don't panic on your first battlefield. Remember your family's motto.' Alfred glanced at Alan and instructed.

'Unwavering determination!'

Alan recited the family motto, remembering the Davis Family's motto—'Perceive All.'

'Good. It's starting!'

Alfred said faintly.

At this moment, Alan saw the enemy's formation slowly advancing.

At the forefront were ragged, poorly armed peasant soldiers, their expressions panic-stricken as they were driven forward by regular soldiers and knights behind them, making an attack on the Sothos Family!

'Archers, release!'

In the middle of the formation, Mark, who was in charge of the archers, roared and waved his hand.

A rain of arrows fell, hitting many unlucky ones. They fell, some still groaning from non-lethal wounds.

But it was useless! Their comrades behind them were swept forward, trampling over them until no sound remained.

Boom!

Both armies charged, with arrows flying for only a few rounds before the two forces clashed like torrents.

'Charge!'

Alfred roared, riding his warhorse like a moving metal fortress.

Alan's position was on the Sothos Family's right wing. He commanded, 'Charge formation, advance! Advance!'

Though fearful, Eight Fingers and other squad leaders executed the orders well, making their small team of dozens a part of the war.

Boom!

As Alan charged a short distance, darkness suddenly loomed, a hint of blue appearing ahead.

The enemy had arrived!

'Kill!'

He swung his Cross Sword without hesitation.

The enemy peasant soldiers were originally farmers. Despite a few days of training and murderous intent in their eyes, their poor equipment resulted in their pitchforks being cut in half by the Cross Sword, slicing their upper bodies off and spilling their entrails everywhere.

'Somewhat unwise!'

Alan retracted his Long Sword, taking a defensive stance, vigilant of enemies all around him. He furrowed his brows slightly: 'Facing these militia without armor, there's no need to use a Cross Sword; a rapier will suffice. I must conserve my energy... whether for retreat or pursuit afterward!'

(End of the chapter)