Roen’s gaze had locked onto the kneeling Wanderer in the distance.
His target was Cristopher, but there wasn’t much he could do with Princess Fiora risking her life to stop his advance. He naturally didn’t mind. After all, they both understood that it was only a matter of time before the Dragonkin Princess was defeated.
"You’re just delaying the inevitable," Roen sneered. "Just die already, woman!"
Princess Fiora didn’t reply, not wanting to waste her breath and strength in meaningless talk.
The Dragonkins’ morale had risen greatly, so even though Roen had forcefully rallied the Artemians, the difference in momentum was still glaringly obvious at a glance.
Countless warcries, screams, and dying grunts spread on the battlefield, as the ground was soaked with blood.
The Dragonkins pushed forward, slaughtering as many as they could, while the Artemians were forced to go into a defensive position.
Princess Fiora knew that if she were to fall then and there, the hard-won advantage Cristopher got for them would crumble like a house made of cards.
So despite the exhaustion and toll on her body, she continued to wield her sword and shield, standing as the pillar at the frontlines of the Alliance.
But a few minutes later, Roen finally found his chance and managed to break past the princess’ defenses, burying his sword in her shoulder.
The princess gritted her teeth, refusing to let any sound of pain and weakness escape her lips.
"You fought well. Now die!" Roen growled like a beast who had finally pinned its prey, about to deliver the killing blow.
Suddenly, the sound of the whistling wind reached his ear, forcing him to back away in haste.
A spear pierced the spot where he had stood earlier, which bought Princess Fiora some breathing space.
"You dare hurt my sister!" Prince Aurelion descended from the sky, standing between Roen and Princess Fiora.
The Dragonkin Prince then took his spear and lunged at the Captain of the Artemian Guards with fury.
Thirteen, who had told Prince Aurelion about her sister’s situation, finally appeared beside Cristopher and checked his condition.
"You’ve done well, Cristopher," Thirteen said. "Leave the rest to me and get treated inside Rocky’s Mobile Fortress."
"Thank you, Young Master," Cristopher replied.
Rocky then appeared and swallowed the young man who had played a crucial role in the war.
If Cristopher hadn’t defeated the enemy’s general, Princess Fiora might have also died, crashing the morale of the allied armies.
Princess Fiora approached Zion and asked about Cristopher’s condition.
"He is seriously injured," Thirteen lied, his face hidden by his plated helmet. "But even as his consciousness was fading, he kept on asking if you were fine."
"R-Really?" Princess Fiora asked, her warrior’s expression softening a bit.
"Yes," Thirteen nodded. "If I didn’t force him to rest, he would have stayed to protect you, even at the risk of fainting in the middle of the battlefield. This retainer of mine is a foolish child through and through."
Pica and Pico glanced at each other, unanimously deciding to keep their beaks silent.
But deep in their hearts, they were giving Thirteen a thumbs up for being Cristopher’s wingman.
"Will he be okay?" Princess Fiora asked, concern showing on her beautiful face. "He fought a very strong Archon. Also, I don’t know how he summoned that powerful Avatar, but he must have paid a price for it, right?"
"Cristopher said that no matter how great the sacrifice, it will be worth it as long as you are saved," Thirteen replied. "So, after this war ends, make sure to at least thank him with your body—errr, thank him sincerely, okay?"
Princess Fiora nodded, her face reddening a bit as she pretended to not hear some of the words Zion had said.
She then pressed her lips together, forcing herself not to smile despite the heat rising on her cheeks. "I... will thank him properly,"
Her words were spoken too softly, almost impossible to hear, but Zion heard her well.
"Good," Thirteen replied, his voice calm but firm. "That will be the best medicine for his recovery."
Before Fiora could respond, another tremor ran through the battlefield.
Prince Aurelion’s spear clashed against Roen’s blade, sparks flying as the two figures moved like blurs among the carnage. Each impact shook the air, forcing soldiers on both sides to stagger back.
"Your army falters, Artemian Scum!" Aurelion roared, his voice booming above the cries of war. "Withdraw now before I end your miserable life!"
Roen’s lips curled into a savage grin, blood dripping from a shallow wound on his arm. "Withdraw? Boy, this is only the beginning. I’ll carve your heart out and show your kin what it means to defy Artemia!"
Their duel reignited the fervor of the battlefield.
Dragonkin soldiers surged forward with renewed courage, rallying to their prince’s banner.
The Artemians continued to be pushed back step by bloody step.
Thirteen glanced at Princess Fiora, who was still clutching her wounded shoulder.
"Princess, rest for a moment. Your people draw strength from simply seeing you alive. Don’t squander that hope," Thirteen stated.
Fiora wanted to protest, but the trembling fingers around her sword’s hilt betrayed her intention.
At last, she gave a reluctant nod, stepping back to allow her brother to hold the front.
Pica and Pico decided to return inside Rocky’s Mobile Fortress. Things were now about to get more dangerous on the battlefield.
Thirteen thought of sending Princess Fiora inside the Mobile Fortress, but ultimately didn’t do it, believing the morale of the troops might fall with her absence. Follow current novels on novel[f]ire.net
As an alternative, he settled on giving her potions that would help her recover from her injuries.
Although its effect would be decreased due to the Majin Princess’ rank, this was the only thing Thirteen could do for her right now.
Meanwhile, somewhere in the battlefield, Azoh’Dar, Erasmus, and Vannaroth were reaching their limit.
Their opponent, Norton, was finally able to cut down the Undead Wyvern King’s wing, forcing the latter to fight on the ground.
Azoh’Dar was also bleeding on his chest, but thanks to its fast regeneration, the wound had already closed.
Still, no matter how fast he could regenerate, there was a limit to how many times his body could take it. Every injury he received only brought him closer to his breaking point.