The Monarchs watched the battle in the sky with solemn expressions on their faces.
Zia said that he wouldn’t give them any orders and left the command of the Wanderers to Renz.
It was to make it known that the leaders of humanity had played an active role in the war, using their own strength and resources.
"Grand Marshal, please take the lead," Renz said in a respectful tone.
As the oldest Monarch and the one who had established the Central Government from scratch, Lawrence was a person everyone looked up to.
Thanks to his initiative, not only did the Monarch Clans fail to turn the entire world into their domain, but they couldn’t wrongfully take advantage of the common people as well.
Everyone viewed him as the leader of the army who protected the common people, so other than him, there was no one else suitable to lead the Wanderers to war.
Lawrence shouted as he raised his sword and pointed it at the Jinn Alliance in the distance.
"Raise your heads and look at the sky. That sky does not belong to the Monarchs. It does not belong to the Dragonkin. It does not belong to the Jinns."
"It belongs to every living being on this earth!"
"Look at the ground beneath your feet! This land, this world—it is the cradle of our ancestors and the home of our children yet to be born!"
"But today, those who crave power march upon it with greed in their eyes, caring not for the ashes they will leave behind. They do not see a world worth saving. They see a world to conquer."
"Are we to stand idle while they turn this world into their plaything?!"
"They call us ’Wanderers,’ as if we have no roots," Lawrence shouted. "But that is their greatest mistake. For we are not bound to walls or bloodlines, but to humanity itself. We carry this world on our backs—not with banners, but with the weight of our duty."
"We fight for the farmers who have no swords. We fight for the children who have no shields. We fight for the countless souls who dream of a tomorrow free from chains."
"Today, we are not fighting for glory. We are fighting to save the world itself."
"If we fall here, this world will become a wasteland where only tyrants breathe."
"But if we stand—if we fight—then even the heavens will remember that humanity does not kneel!"
The Grand Marshal’s sword shone in golden light, acting like a lighthouse that guided those who were lost within a stormy night.
"Our journey has just begun!" Lawrence declared. "So march, Wanderers! For every voice that cannot shout! For every life that deserves to bloom! Let us carve a future where the world belongs to ALL, not a chosen few!"
"WANDERERS, ADVANCE!"
"DEATH TO OUR ENEMIES!"
"""DEATH TO OUR ENEMIES!"""
"""DEATH TO OUR ENEMIES!"""
"""DEATH TO OUR ENEMIES!"""
Zia gave the Grand Marshal a thumbs-up in her heart.
Clearly, Lawrence didn’t make that speech on the fly. He must’ve written and memorized it properly to raise everyone’s morale.
His impassioned words reached everyone’s hearts, making those with fear in their hearts regain the will to fight!
As the High-Ranking Jinns advanced past the base of the mountain, battling against the Blister Beetles who were fighting tooth and nail with them, the Jinn Army heard the shout of the Wanderers.
The deafening war cry of the Wanderers thundered across the battlefield, shaking the hearts of all who heard it.
With every shout of "death to our enemies," the air grew heavier, not with despair but with an overwhelming surge of human will.
For centuries, the Monarch Clans had hoarded power.
The Dragonkin had soared through the skies with pride.
The Jinns had schemed from their hidden sanctuaries.
But now, the Wanderers marched.
With Lawrence at the front, his golden sword illuminating the path, the army surged forward, not as scattered mercenaries but as a tide united by blood, sweat, and purpose.
"Follow the Grand Marshal! Don’t fall behind!" Renz roared as he led a battalion of elite fighters, each wearing the insignia of the Central Government.
The air seemed to crack as countless flying avatars took off to the skies at the same time.
What the Wanderers lacked in supernatural bloodlines, they made up for with grit sharpened through centuries of surviving against the odds.
Zia watched from a vantage point, her eyes glinting with a rare sense of pride.
"This... this is humanity at its finest," Zia murmured.
"Zia, we’ll go ahead," Renz’s voice echoed through the black beetle on Zia’s shoulder, which they were now using as a substitute for communicators. "See you on the frontlines."
Zia chuckled. "Don’t go dying on me, Renz. You’re still the one who’ll handle all the paperwork after this war."
"Then make sure you leave me a world worth managing," Renz replied in a helpless tone.
As the Wanderers joined the battle in the sky and intercepted the Jinns that were starting to climb up the mountain, the Skavari also made their move.
The ground trembled as countless Skavari warriors descended on the mountain, riding on their war beasts, joining the Wanderers in battle.
For a moment, it felt as if the earth itself would split when the two forces collided in a brutal, primal clash of steel, claw, and magic.
In this battle, the Skavari highlighted their battle formations, forced through countless campaigns, where improvisation and camaraderie mattered more than noble bloodlines.
"Strength beyond Death!" General Varrak shouted as he led his race to war.
"""Strength beyond Death!"""
"""Strength beyond Death!"""
Heavily armored assault units, the "Breakers," smashed into the flanks of the enemy lines, creating openings that were immediately exploited by agile strike teams of the Wanderers, who were mounted on their flying Avatars.
The Grand Marshal was at the heart of it all, his golden sword cutting a radiant arc through the battlefield, serving as a symbol of hope and defiance.
"Hold the line! Advance step by step! Let them taste what it means to steal a world from its people!" Lawrence bellowed, his voice cutting through the chaos.
Zia’s insect army continued its relentless bombardment, thinning out the enemy numbers, while aerial dogfights above painted the sky in streaks of blood and light.
"Gramps, make sure that the Grand Marshal doesn’t croak today," Zia said to the black beetle, to which Arthur replied with a mere indignant harrumph, making her smile.
The battle had just started.
But as long as the Wanderers still drew breath, they would not stop fighting.
Because they were not fighting for their own interests.
It was a fight for the sake of humanity.
And the world would remember it, as well as the God of Wanderers, who looked at its people with pride.
’Finally, the Wanderers are no longer lost,’ The One thought. ’Good job, Thirteen. You have done well.’
The God of Wanderers had given humanity the power to fend for themselves, and seeing them fight at the front lines using the powers it gave them made the God of Wanderers finally decide on what it planned to do next.