CHAPTER 35: CHAPTER 35 – BATTLE OF THE EXTRAORDINARY LEGIONS (PART 3)

Upon hearing Viscount Landa’s offer, Count Winter shook his head.

"Still not enough."

"That old bastard is as greedy as a dragon. Winning him over won’t be easy."

He was referring to Count Sauron. But he also made it clear to Viscount Landa that whatever Sauron got, he expected no less.

"One million gold coins, plus 300,000 kg of refined iron."

Landa stared at Count Winter as he spoke. One million gold coins—this was the same amount the Empire allocated annually to Northern Wind Province as development funding.

Three hundred thousand kg of refined iron was also highly valuable, though it was more obtainable in a mineral-rich province like this. The deal, then, wasn’t outrageous.

Count Winter looked at Landa.

"Do you know how much gold my Winter family spends each year on the army—especially on the flying wolf cavalry?"

"Do you even understand the cost when one of them dies?"

Count Winter was truly angry. Landa was only offering a million gold coins and 300,000 kg of refined iron?

"Six hundred thousand gold coins, plus 150,000 kg of wrought iron."

Landa countered—by lowering the offer. He stared Count Winter down.

"Each county gives you 600,000 gold coins and 150,000 kg of wrought iron. I’ll go convince the remaining counties. As for whether Viscount Hogg of southernmost Silver River County pays... that, I can’t promise."

Northern Wind Province had seven counties. That meant at least 4 million gold coins. The figure made Count Winter fall silent.

Each year, the Empire might give him a million in funding—but that sum was spread across every noble in the province. What ended up in the governor’s own hands wasn’t much.

Including taxes from Winter family lands and Northwind City, he might earn a million per year. In good years, maybe more; in bad years, they had to buy grain from the south.

And that was with his title as governor. Without it, he’d earn 200,000 to 300,000 less.

Four million—shared between him and Count Sauron—was a fortune. Enough to expand his flying wolf cavalry significantly. Potions from the Imperial Guild were outrageously expensive.

And on the empire’s frontier, strength is law.

"I’ll give you three days. Get those lords to sign the contracts. As for Viscount Hogg... leave him to me."

Count Winter knew a big secret—Viscount Hogg’s ancestors were illegitimate children of the Grand Duke Meyers’ family.

So if they missed out on Hogg’s 600,000—so be it.

"I’ll get them to sign. But the Black Ram warriors must be utterly destroyed. I don’t want to send you another million next year."

"Don’t worry. A noble’s honor will guide us to victory."

Count Winter said with confidence.

Three days later, Count Winter’s flying wolf cavalry and 50,000 troops, alongside Count Sauron’s heavily armored Dragonblood Warrior Legion and 3,000 cavalry, marched toward Golden Barley County, where the Black Ram warrior legion had arrived.

Half a month later, just as the orc army began its assault on Golden Barley County’s city, the two counts’ armies finally reached the battlefield.

A war between 300,000 orcs and nearly 100,000 human troops shook even veteran soldiers—many couldn’t help but tremble on the battlefield.

But soldiers who tremble in war are destined to die.

Three thousand flying wolf cavalry took to the skies like vicious birds of prey. Five thousand Dragonblood Warriors, clad in crimson heavy armor, formed a solid phalanx and advanced toward the heart of the orc army—straight at the Black Ram legion.

"Hahaha! These foolish humans have walked right into our trap!"

In the center of the orc army, a Black Ram chieftain—three meters tall, mounted on the largest, fiercest ram—laughed wildly. His vicious face was lined with razor-sharp teeth that glinted with a cold light.

"Charge! Slaughter every last human—the Northern Wind Province is ours!"

Tens of thousands of Black Ram orcs, along with 7,000–8,000 elite Black Ram warriors, charged toward the Dragonblood Warriors without any formation. Whatever intelligence the orcs possessed, it vanished once the bloodlust of battle took over.

Within a minute, the dark wave of orcs crashed into the Dragonblood phalanx. The collision of flesh and metal shook the battlefield. Roaring dragon cries echoed in the skies above.

Under the pressure of dragon might, the ordinary Black Ram foot soldiers behind the cavalry trembled in fear. Even the mighty rams beneath the warriors’ saddles began to shake—many collapsed outright.

The dragon’s aura was devastating for the orcs—but not without side effects. Chaos stirred among the human ranks as well.

At that moment, the power of extraordinary legions was revealed.

"Kill!"

Cold light flashed as spear tips pierced Black Ram warriors. But many orcs, even as they bled profusely, did not fall—instead, they went berserk, their blood loss driving them into a wild fury.

They fell from their mounts—but even on foot, their twin ram-horn scimitars found the seams in Dragonblood Warrior armor and stabbed deep.

Dark energy pulsed from the bodies of many Black Ram warriors. But the Dragonblood side surged as well—apprentice knights began to explode with power on par with full knights.

The Black Ram warriors outnumbered the Dragonblood Legion. Many of them still had their mounts and quickly surrounded the phalanx.

But just then, the flying wolf cavalry—initially affected by the dragon aura—shook off the pressure.

Massive flying wolves swooped from the skies with devastating force, their claws shredding through Black Ram flesh with ease.

The knights on their backs wielded spears longer than their own bodies, their strength piercing orcs through and through.

After only a few breaths, the wolves soared back into the sky.

This was their greatest advantage: they chose when to strike—from above.

Flying wolf cavalry were the Black Ram warriors’ natural nemesis. No matter how agile the orcs were, they couldn’t match humans in the air. Those dragged into the sky didn’t need finishing moves—just being dropped was enough to kill them.

They couldn’t catch the flying cavalry.

Count Winter knew this perfectly well. It was the reason he had agreed to send troops—he believed his flying cavalry would suffer minimal losses.

On the battlefield, the clash of the three extraordinary legions was the undisputed focal point. Their power—many times that of regular troops—kept even nearby orc and human conscript soldiers at a distance. Watching, many nobles felt their blood boil.

"If only I had a legion like that..."

The thought appeared in the minds of every noble present.

But just as everyone was lost in that dream, flying wolf cavalry began to fall from the sky. Screams rang out from their saddles.

Sharp-eyed nobles spotted something on the backs of the falling wolves—faint blue shadows, leaping nimbly from mount to mount and disappearing into the distance.

These figures had cat-like blue heads, but their limbs moved with grace surpassing any other orc. On their backs they carried slender rapiers.

"Assassins? Catfolk?!"

A noble cried out. Catfolk assassins in the orc army—who would have thought that these seemingly weak creatures had such deadly extraordinary warriors?