Chapter 625: Battle Plan—March on Red Maple
The tactical map hung before Gawain’s eyes. Each coordinate, every place name, every river and marshland was precisely marked in its correct position.
The Gorgon River, Red Maple City, Boulderhold, the battle zone boundaries, the main force positions of the Cecil Legion, the direction of advance… The advanced tactical concepts and efficient information transmission made this map so information-dense that any strategist of this era would be astounded. It also allowed Gawain to quickly calculate most variables for a forced march.
Given the Cecil Legion’s speed—already incredibly fast—Gawain’s main force couldn’t reach Boulderhold in time. After all, ground troops couldn’t match Maggie, a flying unit, in speed. Even if they forced a march and arrived within two days, an exhausted army wouldn’t stand a chance against the already formidable Crystal Cluster Legion. That area was the heart of the contamination zone, and the Crystal Cluster giants stationed there were elite.
But he could strike directly at Red Maple.
Red Maple lay due north of the legion’s main force, separated only by a stretch of relatively flat riverbank plains. Scouts had already reconnoitered the route, and the entire path was within the artillery support range of the Cecil inland naval fleet. Even Red Maple itself was close enough to the Gorgon River that when the Pioneer reached the western river channel, nearly a third of the city would be within bombardment range.
Considering the unique organizational structure of the Crystal Cluster giants, they valued their “command centers” even more than human armies. Once Red Maple came under heavy attack, Gawain was absolutely certain that all nearby Crystal Cluster giants would rush to reinforce it—including the group currently assaulting Boulderhold.
This was Gawain’s version of “besieging Wei to rescue Zhao.”
Maggie quickly grasped his plan and realized it was probably the most feasible option at present.
“When our shells hit Red Maple’s walls, the Northern Legion will be mostly safe,” Gawain said, standing before the map, his finger sweeping between Red Maple and Boulderhold. “The Crystal Cluster giants have a degree of telepathic ability—they’ll sense danger at their base immediately and return to assist. After that, two possibilities arise. If we can completely destroy Red Maple’s command center before the reinforcements arrive, the Crystal Cluster legion, now leaderless, will fall into disarray and lose control. They’ll retreat to their base driven by their prior obsession, but their combat effectiveness will be greatly reduced. We can then set up defensive positions and easily wipe out those beasts.
“If the enemy reinforcements arrive before we break through Red Maple’s defenses, we switch to mobile warfare. Our mechanized units have superior mobility and endurance compared to the Crystal Cluster giants. Using that advantage, plus naval artillery support, we can annihilate those monsters on the plains before Red Maple.”
Gawain finished outlining his tactics. Then Philip and the staff began revising and supplementing the plan. Maggie watched the orderly scene in the command post, slightly dazed. It suddenly felt as if the Cecils were treating this war like operating a machine: every action planned, every contingency accounted for. Soldiers, weapons, supplies, even enemy resistance—all parts fitted into the massive war machine the Cecils had built…
The inevitable chaos and unpredictability of war, and the army’s need for flexible tactics, were supplemented by the cleverness of these clearly defined officers.
At that moment, Gawain’s voice interrupted Maggie’s thoughts from beside her. “Also… I have an idea. Miss Maggie, maybe you can add some flexibility to our tactics.”
“Me?” Maggie blinked, then nodded eagerly. “If there’s anything I can do, I’ll cooperate!”
“You’re a dragon, so you must be better at flying than a griffon or giant eagle,” Gawain’s mind brightened. Having noticed Maggie’s draconic nature, some tactics he’d long considered but couldn’t implement yet naturally surfaced. “How much weight can you carry while flying?”
“I…” Maggie hesitated, a bit embarrassed. “Actually, I’m not very good at flying…”
Gawain’s brow twitched almost imperceptibly.
He recalled the oddly malformed wings he’d seen before, and Maggie’s too-skinny frame in her black dragon form.
It seemed the physical issues this dragon living among humans faced were worse than he’d imagined. That abnormal body and those wings… definitely some serious deformity.
Maggie lowered her head. “Sorry, I can’t help much in this situation…”
“No, it’s fine. Just a backup plan,” Gawain said, letting the idea inspired by Maggie’s presence continue to develop. A thoughtful expression crossed his face. “And I have a backup for the backup plan…”
As he spoke, he rubbed the mithril ring he always carried.
Since he’d established a “friendship” with the great dragons, why not give it a try? Now might be the perfect time…
The magical construct inside the ring activated, gradually warming. Moments later, Melita Pernia’s voice sounded in his ear: “The Mithril Treasury is always at the service of our important clients—Greetings, Your Grace.”
“You’re nearby, right?” Gawain was already familiar with her polished official greeting, his tone casual. “Can you come over?”
There was a brief pause on the other end before she replied, “How did you know I was nearby?”
Gawain’s voice held a faint smile. “Is there anything more worth ‘your’ attention than this war?”
“…Indeed,” Melita chuckled softly. “Please wait a moment. I’ll be there shortly.”
The call ended. Gawain glanced at Maggie beside him—he suddenly grew curious about how the blue dragon from the Mithril Treasury would react upon seeing this black dragon living among humans.
Hopefully, it wouldn’t turn into some ridiculous brawl between two dragons in camp…
Meanwhile, deep in the camp’s warehouse district, Melita Pernia, dressed in a pale purple gauzy dress with a sheer veil, rose from the storeroom she’d been “lodging” in. She tidied the bedding and the pots and pans—borrowed from nearby supplies—then strode out of the Cecil granary with her head held high.
She’d been freeloading meals all the way from the southern border to the Great Wood Gate like this. As long as that strange half-elf didn’t catch her, Melita’s dignity as an arcane dragon remained intact. After all this time, the quartermaster hadn’t noticed anyone stealing army rice…
Gawain had expected Melita nearby and figured she’d arrive soon, but he never imagined “soon” would be less than ten minutes.
When Amber came in with a strange look to report that the Mithril Treasury agent was already outside the barracks, Gawain half-suspected the blue dragon had been living in his camp all along…
Melita Pernia entered the command tent, ignoring everyone else, and walked straight to Gawain. But after two steps, she sensed something that caught her attention. Following the feeling, she spotted the black-haired maid standing not far from Gawain.
The maid’s expression was complicated—nervous, restrained, with a hint of wariness.
The Mithril Treasury agent raised an eyebrow slightly. “A genetic defect?”
Then she nodded lightly to Maggie and said calmly, “Hello.”
For a moment, Maggie seemed to have a thousand things to say. She opened her mouth, her eyes full of complex emotions, but in the end, she only nodded slowly. “Hello.”
Gawain observed everything carefully.
He was deeply curious about how dragon society functioned, what it meant for a dragon like Maggie to have such deformities, how a healthy dragon like Melita viewed her, and why dragons lived among humans. But he knew this wasn’t the time to ask.
He waved away the unrelated personnel, leaving only himself and the two dragons.
Gawain pointed to Maggie. “She’s a dragon too. She should be able to hear our conversation, right?”
“Yes,” Melita glanced at the black-haired maid. “All dragons know the secrets behind the Mithril Treasury—including… those like her.”
“Then let’s speak openly,” Gawain exhaled. “I have something I want to ask for your help with.”
“Let me guess…” Melita’s pale purple eyes sparkled faintly. “You want to use my power, or the Mithril Treasury’s, to deal with those mutated ‘monsters’?”
“…More or less. But I never thought of directly using the Treasury’s power—that’s probably impossible. I want to ask you…”
“Unfortunately, I can’t either,” Melita interrupted before he finished. “Dragons are forbidden from participating in continental wars. It’s our law.”
Gawain stared into Melita’s eyes. “But our war with the Crystal Cluster legion isn’t an ordinary war. It involves divine power, and might even trigger a magical tide.”
“That’s a debatable point,” Melita said calmly. “But only debatable. From the dragon collective’s perspective, the Crystal Cluster creatures you speak of can be seen as a new form of intelligent life. Maybe you don’t accept their origin, their behavior, or even their social structure, but from the dragon collective’s view… this war is no different in essence from any regime change on the continent.”
Gawain expected Melita wouldn’t agree easily, but he hadn’t anticipated such a firm stance and an argument so hard to refute. After a moment’s thought, he seized the key point in her words.
“You said, from the dragon collective’s perspective…”
“Yes, from the collective’s perspective,” Melita paused, exhaled softly. “But as an individual, I—and many other dragons—realize that the birth and spread of those Crystal Cluster infected is a disaster, one that should be stopped promptly. It’s just… as part of the collective, we can’t act so easily. You understand what I mean.”
Gawain looked quietly into Melita’s eyes for a few seconds, grasping the deeper meaning behind her words.
Offering a way out, so I can report back to my superiors.
He pondered briefly, then an idea struck him.
“Alright, let’s change direction,” he adjusted his seat, looking at Melita leisurely. “As far as I know, the Mithril Treasury also handles transport.”
“That’s true.”
“Then I want to commission you to deliver something to the Crystal Cluster commanders in Red Maple City…”
“What?”
“…Three tons of crystal bombs, airlifted, freight collect.”
Melita’s eyes widened as she stared at Gawain, speechless for a long moment.
Gawain grew a little worried. “Is there a problem?”
“My upbringing forbids me from swearing in such company, but I must admit, this is the most brilliant loophole exploitation I’ve ever seen.”
Gawain exhaled. “Then I guess it’s settled.”
“No, there’s still one more issue,” Melita interrupted Gawain immediately. “I don’t think… the target customers will pay after receiving the goods. This is a very important problem.”
Gawain blinked, but he saw no hint of joking on Melita’s face. So he had to think seriously for a moment and then said, “Remember that ‘metal of the gods’? If you’re still interested, I can give you a piece even bigger than last time. We just unearthed it recently.”
He was referring to those “Celestial Relics” found in the Defiant Fortress. As far as he knew, the dragons had been collecting similar artifacts. Those ancient device fragments were hard currency to them—harder than gold, silver, or gems.
And he had half a warehouse full of them.
Melita’s breath quickened involuntarily. She wanted to refuse again—after all, this deal was skirting the edges of the High Council’s rules and could easily get her punished. But…
“Deal.”
Though Cecil’s price was too high.
After the deal was sealed, Gawain finally exhaled and casually said, “Your raid—I mean, your delivery—will be a covert operation. I’ll have the ‘goods’ prepared in advance on the hill west of the camp. You’ll pick them up yourself.”
“I understand,” Melita nodded, but then her expression grew serious. “Just a reminder: this is probably the only time I can step in to help during this entire war. And even this is exploiting a loophole in the rules—you picked a good moment. If it had been earlier, I might not have considered those crystal cluster infected so dangerous. If it had been later… the Council would have their eyes on this continent, and they wouldn’t allow me to pull a fast one right under their noses.”
The Council… sounded like the dragons’ ruling body?
Gawain silently filed away this potentially useful information. Before Melita left, he asked out of curiosity, “You said dragons aren’t allowed to participate in wars on the continent, right?”
Melita nodded. “That’s what I said.”
Gawain gestured toward Maggie standing nearby. “What about her?”
Melita glanced at Maggie with a complicated look, then met Gawain’s eyes. “She and her people are the exception.”
“She’s from the Holy Dragon Principality, descendants of the Exiles.”
After saying this, the blue dragon lady seemed unwilling to linger and turned to leave the room.
“What does ‘descendants of the Exiles’ mean? If that question offends you, you don’t have to answer.”
After Melita left, Gawain looked up at the silent black-haired maid standing beside him.
Maggie’s mood had calmed. She took a gentle breath and spoke in an even tone, “It’s not offensive—everyone knows the people of the Holy Dragon Principality call themselves Dragonborn, but few know there’s a reason behind that claim.”
“The rulers and some nobles of the Principality are indeed dragons—banished from the dragons’ homeland, Talrond, due to genetic degradation and some unknown ancestral mistake.”
She smiled wryly, shaking her head. “So no matter how the years pass, no matter how kingdoms rise and fall, these poor souls will never leave those bitter, towering mountains. They’ll always call themselves a ‘Principality,’ never a kingdom or empire…”
Gawain listened with some surprise to this unexpected intelligence, then suddenly realized something. “So… you’re a noble of the Holy Dragon Principality? Or the dragon-blooded duke’s…”
Maggie cut him off with some resistance. “Sorry, just a disregarded minor family. And that’s all in the past—I don’t want any ties to that place anymore.”
“I understand,” Gawain sighed. “Anyway, get some rest. We have just over an hour before we set out.”
…
The war machines roared to life, the warships weighed anchor, and Cecil’s engines of iron and fire resumed their relentless march.
On the Gorgon River, the Pioneer led the Aurora and Morning Star, along with several river warships converted from cargo vessels and two light gunboats, cutting through the waves. The arcane wing plates were covered with black cloth, engine noises muffled by sound barriers. The steel prows sliced the water as the fleet glided northward like silent ghosts.
On the eastern bank of the Gorgon, war wagons and various troop transports advanced along the route scouted by the steel rangers and giant eagle scouts, crushing rocky beaches and crossing ravines. Night-vision potions distributed to every soldier and dim-light filters installed on every war wagon made the army move through the dark wilderness as if on solid ground, pressing forward swiftly.
This was the 43rd day of the Month of Awakening.
Red Maple City—and the mountain corps trapped in Giant Stone Fortress—lay just ahead.
(End of chapter)