Chapter 992: The March of Ten Million
The Eastern, Southern, and Western Regions had all begun mobilizing.
Countless players were converging on the border of the Northern Frontier Region. To get there, they had to cross almost the entire territory of Dragon City. The Southern Region had the longest journey, forced to circle around Dragon City itself before reaching the front lines.
Fortunately, the three regions had prepared for this long ago.
Everyone knew a confrontation with the Renegade Alliance was only a matter of time.
Because of that, they had established a forward operations camp roughly a thousand miles from the Northern Frontier border. Around fifty thousand players were permanently stationed there, rotating in and out as needed for leveling, raids, and other activities, but the camp always maintained a force of fifty thousand.
Among them, thirty thousand were Warlocks.
The reason was simple.
Warlocks could open summoning portals. With the assistance of two other players to channel the spell, a portal could be established that allowed them to summon a player from anywhere in the world.
The moment news arrived that the Renegade Alliance had gathered at the border, the entire camp sprang into action.
Thirty thousand Warlocks opened portals simultaneously. In an instant, another thirty thousand Warlocks arrived.
Those newly summoned Warlocks immediately began opening portals of their own.
Sixty thousand became ninety thousand, ninety thousand became hundreds of thousands.
Each summoning portal had a five-minute cooldown, but the numbers continued to snowball. Before long, over five hundred thousand Warlocks had assembled inside the camp.
After that, the process became routine.
Cooldown finished. Summon another player. Again and again.
The incoming reinforcements included every class imaginable.
By the time Ethan left Dragon City’s palace, the coalition forces had already reached staggering numbers.
At the front of the combined army stood a man whose equipment was completely concealed beneath a cosmetic transmog set. His actual gear was impossible to identify, but the massive dark-gold greatsword planted beside him revealed his class immediately.
A Warrior.
Weapon Master specialization.
One hand rested casually on the sword’s hilt as he looked toward the gathering forces.
"How many?" he asked.
A woman standing beside him checked the reports before answering.
"About 6.6 million combat personnel. Including the Warlocks, we’re almost 10 million."
"Only 9.6 million?" he replied with a frown. "That’s it?"
A trace of dissatisfaction appeared on his face.
This man was the coalition’s appointed commander for the Northern campaign.
The position had originally been little more than a symbol meant to unite the three regions, but that didn’t mean he was unqualified. In the Western Region, his reputation and influence were comparable to Ethan’s standing in the North.
His character name was OneSwordBreaksArmy.
In Ethan’s previous life, he had been a genuine legend. He had played a major role in the war against the Carnage Faction and possessed two Divine abilities. Later, Zachary Steele orchestrated his downfall and forced him out of the game. Before the time Ethan was reborn, most players had already forgotten his name.
After hearing the report, OneSword remained silent for a moment.
The woman added, "This was everything we could gather on short notice. Most guilds are still in the middle of raid schedules. Their elite teams haven’t arrived yet."
"Hm."
OneSword nodded, and the annoyance from earlier disappeared almost immediately.
"Pass the order. Everyone except the Warlocks moves out now."
He pulled the dark-gold greatsword from the ground and swung it onto his shoulder.
The woman blinked. "Now? Shouldn’t we wait for the rest of the reinforcements?"
"Wait?" OneSword looked at her as if she had said something ridiculous. "We have 9.6 million players facing 400,000 enemies, and you’re suggesting we wait?"
"I just think..."
"You don’t need to think. Do your job."
His voice turned cold.
A sharp whistle sounded through the air. Moments later, a gryphon descended from above.
OneSword jumped onto its back in a single fluid motion. The creature’s wings spread wide, each one large enough to cover a small house, and with a powerful beat it launched itself into the sky.
Within seconds, he was already climbing higher and higher above the camp.
The woman remained where she was, her displeasure obvious. She had wanted to report something important.
The Renegade Alliance officially had around 520,000 members, yet only 400,000 had appeared at the border. The reason wasn’t that they had failed to mobilize. Shortly before assembling, the Alliance had carried out a massive internal purge. More than forty thousand players had been expelled from the guild, and every single one of them had been a spy planted by the three regions. Not one had escaped detection.
She had expected OneSword to ask why the Alliance’s numbers were lower than expected, but he never did. The only thing he had asked was how many troops they had, then he had ordered the march.
To her, the situation felt wrong.
A force capable of identifying and removing every spy just before a major mobilization clearly wasn’t acting without a plan. Even with 9.6 million players on their side, she couldn’t shake the unease in her chest.
The coalition outnumbered the enemy twenty-four to one. Logically, there was nothing to worry about, yet the feeling remained.
Maybe she was overthinking things. Or maybe being dismissed so casually had left a bad taste in her mouth.
Either way, she glanced once more at OneSword’s shrinking figure in the sky before turning away.
She wasn’t the commander. Whatever happened next would no longer be her decision.
Moments later, an army of more than nine million players began moving.
The earth trembled beneath countless footsteps as an endless sea of armored figures advanced toward the Northern Frontier.
Above them, nearly one hundred thousand flying mounts rose into the air and formed up behind OneSword.
Despite leading the aerial force, he showed no urgency. Rather than racing ahead, he maintained a steady pace, matching the movement of the ground army below.
---
Meanwhile, Ethan had rejoined Victor and the others.
Descending from the sky, he shifted from Eagle Form back into his human body and landed atop the two-hundred-meter-tall fel war machine.
Waiting on the massive platform were familiar faces.
Slashblade. Skyblade. SeraphWarrior. GetRichQuick. The Mad Engineer.
The moment they saw him, everyone brightened.
"Boss!"
Their voices rang out almost simultaneously.
"Everyone’s here? Good." Ethan smiled as he looked around. "Let’s move."
No speeches and no unnecessary discussion. There wasn’t time.
"You got it!"
Leo looked as though he’d been waiting forever to hear those words.
Without hesitation, he jumped straight off the side of the two-hundred-meter-tall war machine. A powerful gust of wind followed, and his falling body suddenly slowed before being pulled back upward. A white tiger with green stripes swept beneath him, catching him effortlessly in midair.
Ethan blinked. ’A flying mount?’
For a moment, he almost forgot. The situation was different now. Many players had already reached level 100, and the flying mount system had been unlocked.
Even so, flying mounts remained relatively rare at this stage of the game. If the coalition had managed to gather large numbers of them, the battle ahead would become far more complicated.
The thought made Ethan’s expression grow serious.
The combined population of the Eastern, Southern, and Western Regions was simply too large. With that many players available, how could they not have accumulated a significant number of flying mounts by now?