Extraordinary Rise: Starting Contract with the Silver Dragon Countess

Upon hearing the unit designation "Golden Lion Guards," the air in the command tent seemed to freeze. A senior staff officer exclaimed in shock:
“The capital garrison has been dispatched; Gaius is risking the nation’s fate to fight us to the death.”

Another general immediately chimed in:
"The capital city of Quesaon must be vulnerable right now. Should we immediately send a message to our allies and order a cavalry regiment to launch a surprise attack on Quesaon?"

Just as everyone was arguing fiercely, a deafening roar that seemed to tear the heavens and earth apart suddenly exploded.

The entire command tent shook violently, and the flags on the sand table were shaken off.

Almost simultaneously, all the communication crystals emitted a blinding red light, and urgent battle reports from the front-line troops flooded in:
"A large number of ambushes have been discovered on both sides of the cliffs of Eagle Beak Canyon, and they are using falling rocks and fire spells to block the retreat!"

"At least five heavy infantry divisions have emerged from the barren hills! Our right flank has been completely cut off!"

"The enemy is flying a red flag with gold stripes—the Blood Leopard emblem of the Kingdom of Serene!"

This time, before Ulrik could give the order, Master Wool had already transformed into a shadow and darted out of the tent.

When the legendary mage reappeared, his robes bore rare scorch marks, and he brought news that nearly suffocated the officers in command:

"The Kingdom of Serene has joined the war."

Marshal Zane Griffiths’s personal guard was on the east side of the canyon, while Cyril Lincoln’s troops were closing in from the west.

The surrounding area was surrounded by a dense array of crossbows; they had been lying in ambush for at least three days, waiting for our entire army to enter the canyon.

"Serene has joined the war!"

A young staff officer lost his composure and knocked over an ink bottle:

"Impossible. Why would Serene interfere in our feud with Ceylon?"
The Thranan royal family has always maintained neutrality between us and the Kingdom of Windbreak!

Another elderly general, his hair and beard now white, suddenly turned pale and pointed at the military sand table in front of him:
"Unless... unless it was a scheme orchestrated by Ceylon and Therein that began with the defeat at Ash Keep!"

They deliberately opened the border to let our troops penetrate deep into our territory, precisely to complete the encirclement here!

The entire command post was in an uproar; panic inside the command tent exploded like boiling oil.

The officers' faces were filled with disbelief and panic.

However, General Ulrik, standing before the sand table, unusually revealed a cold smile:

"They're finally here!"

Ulrik's voice was eerily calm, like the stillness before a storm.

These words struck like a thunderbolt, plunging the entire command post into an eerie silence. All the officers stared in astonishment at their commander.

The next second, Ulric suddenly looked up, his eyes flashing with a sharp, cold light, and roared angrily:

"Master Wool, check who has communication activity on them!"

Before he finished speaking, a middle-aged staff officer standing in the southeast corner of the sand table suddenly turned pale.

His fingers unconsciously reached for a talisman that shimmered faintly at his waist, and his body trembled slightly as he stepped back.

Master Wool's gaze instantly fixed on this person, and the legendary mage's aura caused the magic in the air to freeze.

Knowing that his plan had been exposed, the middle-aged staff officer decided to stop hiding it and immediately unleashed his extraordinary aura at the peak of the ninth rank, turning around and rushing out of the tent.

But it was all in vain. He had only taken two steps when an invisible magical shackle wrapped around his limbs.

In the face of a legendary mage, a peak ninth-tier mage has absolutely no chance of resisting.

The officers inside the tent finally realized what was happening.

One hot-tempered cavalry commander even drew his sword and glared at the enemy.

Without a doubt, anyone making a move at this time is an enemy spy!
Ulric's gaze slowly swept over the familiar yet unfamiliar face before him—his staff officer Porter, who had followed him in battle for nearly five years.

The voice was unusually calm, yet carried an immense weight:

"Potter, I won't ask you why you betrayed us, or when you betrayed us."

I'll only ask you one question: are you from the Black Tomb or from Serene?

Staff Officer Potter, who was firmly bound by magical shackles, suddenly raised his head, a fanatical expression almost manic appearing on his face.

His pupils suddenly contracted into vertical, reptilian-like pupils, and his mouth twisted into a bizarre, inhuman arc:

"Long live the Duke of Walif! The glory of the world shall surely belong to King Solomon!"

Before he finished speaking, Potter's body suddenly erupted with a terrifying blood-red light.

The surface of his skin was covered with countless demonic runes, and his whole body began to melt violently like a burning candle.

Crimson flames erupted from his seven orifices, and the air was instantly filled with the stench of sulfur and rotting flesh.

"Soul communication?"

Master Wool's face showed surprise. He waved his staff lightly, and pure arcane light shone out, intercepting the communication that was about to be sent out.

The voice then became much more serious:
"Higher Mimicry Demon!"
He is no longer Potter; this is a demon transformed into Potter.

"What a brilliant transformation technique! It even managed to fool the holy light detection of the accompanying chaplain."

Ulric stared intently at the humanoid figure twisting and deforming in the flames, and said in a deep voice:

"Grand Duke Valefort, ranked sixth among the seventy-two demons of Solomon, a powerful deity who wields the secret arts of medicine blending and transformation, the demon god Valefort!"

"As expected of the Black Tomb's handiwork. Only those scum who worship demons and gods would use such blasphemous evil magic."

As everyone knows, behind the Black Tomb stands one or even several demon gods.

Before turning to ashes completely, the humanoid figure suddenly let out a final, piercing laugh:

"The day our Lord returns will be the day we are resurrected!"

Ha ha ha ha……"

Ashes scattered, and the tent fell into a deathly silence.

All the officers were drenched in cold sweat; they had been fighting alongside a demon who could perfectly disguise himself as a human for years.

Even more chilling is that the Black Tomb's conspiracy has already infiltrated the very core of the command center.

Ulric slowly walked to the assembled officers, his voice returning to its usual calm, as if the terrifying manifestation of the demon just moments before was nothing more than a trivial incident:

"Alright, this is just a little trick by the enemy."

Do not panic, everyone. His Majesty had already anticipated Serene's intervention.

From the moment we crossed the border, everything went according to plan.

We're playing a long game!
What we need to do now is neither to launch a rash attack nor to retreat hastily, but to hold our ground.

"Wait for our reinforcements to stab Serene in the back!"

A young intelligence officer couldn't help but blurt out:
"But Commander, the main forces of Ceylon, Seren and our Windbreak Kingdom are all here on this battlefield."

Who else could provide reinforcements, and who else was capable of intervening in a battle of this scale?

General Ulrik suddenly laughed and slowly said:
"A person who keeps creating miracles!"

……

Deep within the main camp of the Effie army, in a command tent shrouded by a magical barrier, Cohen stood before a floating panoramic strategic sand table.

When the messenger reported "the demon god Walif," he slowly turned around, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes, and repeated:
"Commander Ulric is referring to Valifusa, the sixth of the seventy-two demons of Solomon?" the mage replied.

"Yes, Your Majesty, that's what Commander Ulrik said."

Cohen narrowed his eyes and said in a deep voice to the messenger mage:
"I understand. Tell Commander Ulric to ignore the Black Tomb people and have him carry out positional warfare in Eagle's Beak Canyon as planned, keeping Serene's main force firmly pinned down."

"I'll make my move once all of Serene's men have committed."

After the messenger bowed and withdrew, Cohen turned to face the two generals standing solemnly to the side.

His gaze first fell on Farrell Langdon:
"General Farrell, Cyril Lincoln on the west side of Eagle Beak Canyon is now in your hands."

This spoiled brat who rose to power by sacrificing his colleagues would be a perfect medal for your official promotion.

Then, he looked at Sylvia Ain, whose eyes burned with fighting spirit:
"Shervia, you are in charge of supporting Commander Ulrik who is holding the line."

Gaius has mobilized the entire capital garrison; it seems he's going all out. Go and help the Windbringers hold the line until we complete the encirclement.”

General Farrell's expression shifted slightly upon hearing this, and he couldn't help but step forward:
"Your Majesty, are you going to personally deal with Griffith's main force?"

Cohen said with a faint smile:

"Of course, it's been a long time since I've seen my old friends from Black Tomb, so I can't miss this opportunity!"

……

High on the withered tree hills southeast of Eagle's Beak Canyon, inside a commander's tent fluttering a red flag with a blood-red leopard design.

Marshal Zane Griffiths was staring at the battle line that had been completely surrounded on the sand table.

His Serene main force has trapped the 200,000-strong Windbreak Expeditionary Army like a tightening iron clamp at the border between the canyon and the plain.

In just one hour, the allied forces' encirclement had been compressed to a suffocating degree.

Just as Griffiths was about to give the order for the final assault, the shadows inside the tent suddenly twisted.

A figure clad in a pure black mage's robe appeared silently, revealing Naxtos Warren's pale face beneath the hood.

Several generals who were discussing matters subconsciously gripped their sword hilts, and the atmosphere in the tent instantly plummeted to freezing point.

Marshal Griffith's eye twitched slightly. He suppressed his disgust and spoke in as calm a tone as possible:
"Master Naxos, has something changed?"

The old general had no good feelings toward the "supervisor" sent by the three tomb owners.

Not only did Nactus observe his command and deployment with a cold eye throughout, but he also frequently glanced at the generals in the tent with the same look he gave them as if they were being examined as experimental subjects.

If it weren't for the terrifying strength of the other party's legendary dark mage and the enormous power of the "Black Tomb" behind him, Griffith would have sent this gloomy fellow back to Toringard long ago.

Nactus seemed completely oblivious to the wary gazes of the generals inside the tent.

He slowly raised his withered hand, and a crystal ball shimmering with an ominous red light appeared in his palm.

Nactus said coldly:

"I have some bad news to report to the Marshal: the spy I planted in the Windbringer's command headquarters has been killed."

Griffiths put down his baton, a hint of perfunctory sorrow on his face, and said slowly:
"This is indeed a heavy loss. Please accept our condolences, Master. Once the general offensive begins, we will surely use the blood of the Windbringers to pay tribute to this warrior."

Nactus's lips twitched slightly, and his black robe suddenly rippled with an invisible magical energy. He said in a deep voice:
"Marshal, you seem to have misunderstood the gravity of the situation. I mean, one of my spies, a spy who had been infiltrating Ulric's inner circle for five years, was discovered by the Windbringers five minutes ago!"

Griffith narrowed his eyes slightly, his tone remaining calm characteristic of a soldier:
“Master, your understanding of the frontline battles may still be at the theoretical level.”

He raised his hand and pointed to the military camp outside the tent, its banners fluttering in the breeze, and said slowly:
"War is a game of mutual infiltration. If we can develop spies in the Windrise Palace, the Windrise people can naturally find our spies as well."

It's perfectly normal for a spy's identity to be exposed. Even if your spy really had some information, and was tortured into revealing all the intelligence, it's meaningless now.

The Windbringers are completely surrounded. Unless the gods descend, I can't think of anyone who can change this inevitable annihilation.

Nactus took a deep breath, suppressing his anger, and said in a cold voice:

"Don't confuse those idiotic spies in your army with the secret agents carefully trained by our Black Tomb!"
I am certain that unless my spy reveals his identity, even legendary-level detection spells will not be able to see through his disguise.

But now that he's been exposed, it can only mean one thing.

He intercepted top-secret intelligence that could overturn the course of the war, so important that he was willing to ignite his soul's fire to send the message back, which is how his identity was discovered.

Now, as the Supreme Commander of Serene, please tell me, what kind of intelligence is worth a top-tier spy who has been undercover for five years risking his life to deliver it?

Marshal Griffiths's expression changed slightly, and it was at this delicate moment that hurried footsteps came from outside the tent.

A messenger, panting, presented the latest battle report:
"Marshal, the besieged Fengxi Army shows no signs of breaking out. They are cutting down trees to reinforce their camp and even laying spike traps in front of their positions."

This doesn't look like a trapped, isolated army at all; it's more like... more like they're waiting for reinforcements!

Reinforcements?

He is now deep in the heart of Ceylon, with no reinforcements available. Does he expect the Ceylonians to defect?
Ulric's unusual behavior immediately aroused Griffith's suspicion.

Based on Nactus's intelligence, Marshal Griffiths immediately felt a vague unease.

He suddenly pressed his palm against his throbbing temple. Years of military experience told him something was wrong. He roared at the stunned messenger:

"Immediately order all legions to halt all offensive operations."

"Dispatch all reconnaissance teams to focus their search on the northwestern deadwood hills and the eastern swampy area..."

Before the words were even finished, a piercing alarm blared from all directions, and a mage scout, nearly scared out of his wits, stumbled into the military camp, exclaiming in alarm:
"Marshal, Marshal, enemy forces... enemy forces are everywhere."

Orcs! It's Eifine's orc army!

They rushed out from all directions!

bang-

An officer accidentally knocked over a lamp stand next to the sand table.

Griffith felt a sudden darkness before his eyes, and the taste of blood rushed to his throat. He staggered and grabbed the table to steady himself.

Marshal Griffiths braced himself, but his voice trembled without him even realizing it:

"Nonsense! The Efein people are separated from the Ash Plains by more than half of Ceylon. Did they fly here with wings?"

Even if they flew over, how could our air patrol have arrived without any warning?

Soon, the fleeing scouts shattered his last hope—tens of thousands of orc heavy infantry poured out of the Deadwood Hills, and a large number of Efein troops surged out of the Silent Swamp…

One piece of bad news after another arrived, and the entire command center instantly descended into frantic chaos.

Effie!
The name is terrifying. The two great empires and the Black Tomb joined forces and were defeated head-on, not to mention that their king is now the consort of the strongest empire in human history.

It created an unprecedented history at the Noble Martial Arts Festival and received the favor of the chief god.

No one wants to confront this terrifying and mysterious country.

Marshal Griffiths took a deep breath, slammed his hand on the trembling table, and roared angrily, drowning out the chaos inside the tent:

"What's the panic? We have hundreds of thousands of troops here. Do you think we're going to worry about a mere Effie?"

He grabbed the trembling messenger by the collar:

"Immediately notify Vice Commander Cyril Lincoln to cease all offensive operations against the Windrise Army, and for the entire army to converge towards our main force and form a circular defensive formation."

Tell Cyril that if he doesn't want his escape route completely cut off, he'd better get over here as fast as he can! (End of Chapter)