Lord: I have built a witch's sanctuary.

Chapter 214 The Final Preparations

The cold wind blew across the walls of Frostwolf City, making a sound like the low growl of a wild beast.

In the lord's manor conference room in the inner city, a huge map of the southern part of the kingdom was spread out on a long wooden table. Lorraine sat at one end, toying with a freshly polished mithril chip in his hand.

Anna stood quietly behind him, her black maid outfit making her figure appear even taller, though her fiery red hair rippled slightly with the surge of magic.

"The attack plan has been completed, Your Excellency."

Olivia pushed open the door and walked in, bringing with her a faint, cool fragrance.

She placed a thick stack of reports on the table and rubbed her slightly sore temples.

"That old guy Pym emptied his pockets of all the wealth he'd accumulated over the years, loading up thirty truckloads of magic potions and fire scale bombs, and piling them all up in the second-floor warehouse of the Tower of Babel."

He was just asking me whether the wealth he donated in advance after conquering the capital would be enough for him to continue as the governor of the kingdom's central bank.

Lorraine listened and couldn't help but chuckle: "That old fox, the war hasn't even started yet and he's already eyeing the positions in the capital."

"He's a smart man; he's always known to bet on you."

Olivia sat down on the chair next to him, her green eyes looking at Lorraine with a hint of unconcealed worry.

"However, the journey south will not be easy. The Violet royal family is moving faster than we expected. That Sersmir has gone mad, forcibly converting all the civilians in the three territories along the way. Now, the south is almost entirely the territory of monsters."

"If he were sober, he wouldn't be so easy to deal with."

Lorraine flicked his finger, and the mithril chips traced a silver line through the air before landing steadily on the map at the location of the royal capital. "Where's Lyra? How is she?"

"My lord, I am perfectly fine."

A crisp reply came from outside the door.

Leila walked in quickly, her originally somewhat thin body now appearing exceptionally frail.

Her heterochromatic eyes, one black and one gold, shimmered with an unusual brilliance, and behind her, faint golden threads of destiny intertwined in the void, only to vanish in an instant.

After being promoted to a fifth-order Fate Witch, she was radiant with energy.

"I've already foreseen my future." Leila walked to the table and slightly raised her chin.

"Although this trip south has been somewhat bumpy, I've tied all the good fortune to you now, my lord. I won't hold you back any longer."

Lorraine reached out and ruffled her hair. "It's good that you're alright. This time, we won't be on the defensive."

Victor, with his hand on the Wolf King Greatsword at his waist, strode in.

His heavy armor made a dull metallic sound as it clashed, and he was like an unshakeable iron tower.

"My lord, the White Wolf Knights and ten thousand elite infantry have all assembled on the first level of the Tower of Babel. They are ready to depart at any time."

Lorraine stood up, leaning on the table, and looked around at everyone in the room.

"Notify Ohm and Messiah to set the Tower of Babel in motion."

……

Outside Frostwolf City, a long line of refugees was still waiting to register.

Hans was hunched over, trying to glean something from the conversation of the guards in front of him. Just then, he suddenly felt the ground beneath his feet tremble violently.

"What happened? Was it an earthquake?"

"Look over there!"

A gasp of surprise erupted from the crowd. Hans looked in the direction everyone was pointing, and his eyes widened instantly.

Behind Frostwolf City, the black steel city that resembled a small mountain suddenly unleashed blinding blue-white magical flames from its four enormous mechanical legs.

"boom--!!"

A dull, deafening roar, like rolling thunder, echoed across the wasteland.

The giant mechanical leg slowly rose, and each time it fell, it caused the ground within a radius of several miles to tremble violently.

That massive steel city actually began to move on the ground.

"A miracle...this is a miracle!"

Countless refugees knelt down on the spot, frantically making the sign of the cross in prayer before the moving steel behemoth.

Looking at the towering, all-encompassing steel shadow, Hans felt as if his blood was about to freeze.

What kind of immense power could enable such a colossal creature to traverse the wasteland?

Inside the top control room of the Tower of Babel.

Ohm was jumping around excitedly in front of the console, his little hands constantly tapping in the air, creating patches of blue data light.

"Big brother! The power reactor output has reached 80%! The Tower of Babel is behaving very well now!"

Messiah stood beside her, his silver hair dancing in the wind. Her slender fingers rested on the metal railing, sensing the tremors emanating from the entire city, her expression remaining solemn.

"Lorraine, this battle has been very costly. Although we've collected a lot of magic crystals to support ourselves these past few days, if we can't resolve the battle within ten days, our energy reserves will plummet to a dangerous level."

Lorraine walked to the window, looking down at the rapidly shrinking Frostwolf City below, the hem of her trench coat fluttering in the wind.

"It won't take ten days."

He gripped the railing tightly and said calmly, "Tell the brothers to advance at full speed. We must flatten the royal defenses in the shortest possible time."

The massive Tower of Babel, with its heavy strides, carved a path a hundred meters wide through the swirling snow of the North, rumbling southward.

The capital city, deep within the palace halls.

A thin layer of dust settled on the thick, dark red plush carpet. The air was filled with a pungent smell of blood, mixed with a slightly cloying, rotten sweetness.

Thursmir donned a black royal robe trimmed with gold and sat on the throne, a symbol of supreme power. His fingers rhythmically tapped the jewels on the armrests, producing a dull thud.

Below the main hall, several heavily armored messengers knelt tremblingly, not daring to raise their heads.

Outside the palace, a low roar could be faintly heard. It was the howling of the demonized legion that had been forcibly transformed, its sheer number almost filling the entire military camp surrounding the capital.

"Tap, tap, tap."

A series of hurried footsteps broke the deathly silence in the hall.

A scout, covered in sweat and with his armor smeared with mud, stumbled through the gate and collapsed to his knees on the carpet. He was panting heavily from running so fast that he almost choked on his breath.

"Your Majesty! Urgent report from the North! The North!" The scout's voice was hoarse, filled with barely concealed terror.

Thursmir's fingers, which were tapping the armrest, paused slightly. He raised his eyelids and glanced indifferently down below. "What's the panic? Is Lorraine dead? Or has Frostwolf Castle fallen?"

"No...none of that!" The scout swallowed hard, his voice trembling. "Lorraine drove that mobile city...and left Frostwolf City!"

Upon hearing this, Thursmir's lips curled into a cold smile as he leaned back against the throne cushion.

"Left? Probably ran away!" he said casually, his tone full of disdain.

"It seems my army of 500,000 has already terrified this young count before even reaching the northern border. How many men did he take? Which direction does he plan to flee in? Is he intending to brave the snowstorm to the far north, or seek refuge at sea?"

In Thursmir's view, Lorraine had only stumbled upon an ancient ruin on the icy plains by sheer luck. Faced with the overwhelming military might of the royal family, they had no choice but to flee.

However, the scout kneeling on the ground trembled even more violently.

"Your Majesty... he didn't flee, nor did he go to the far north." The scout gritted his teeth and blurted out in one breath, "Their direction of travel... is due south! Heading straight for the capital!"

The hall fell silent instantly.

Thursmir's fingers, which were tapping the armrest, stopped completely.

He stared at the scouts below, the contempt in his eyes gradually fading, replaced by a hint of surprise.

"Even the king is coming?"

"Yes! They're incredibly fast. That steel behemoth makes no attempt to conceal its movements, crushing countless hills and forests in its path as it advances straight towards us!"

The scout, cold sweat pouring down his face, said, "Judging from their posture... they probably intend to fight Your Majesty to the death!"

Thursmir slowly rose from his throne.

He walked to the edge of the main hall steps, put his hands behind his back, and looked down at the empty hall.

"Good, very good." He suppressed his smile, a hint of appreciation flashing deep in his eyes.

"I underestimated him. I thought he would hide in the mountains like a stray dog ​​and eke out a living, but I didn't expect him to have the guts to come to me."

"Your Majesty, should we halt our march and set up an ambush at the pass?" a general couldn't help but raise his head and suggest.

"An ambush? Do we need an ambush to deal with a Frostwolf Earl?" Thursmir waved his hand, signaling him to shut up.

He walked to the window and looked out at the massive, demonic army that blotted out the sky.

"Since Lorraine was able to inherit the mobile city of the Golden Age, it shows that he does have some skills. To be able to integrate the Northern Territory in such a short time, he is quite a character, not just a coward who only knows how to hide behind women."

Thursmir straightened his sleeves, his tone calm yet carrying an air of superior control: "But he's far too arrogant. Does he think he can challenge the entire kingdom's foundation with just a moving lump of iron?"

"Your Majesty is wise. The barbarians in the north have no idea of ​​the King's true power," the general quickly echoed.

"Go and inform the three retainers to come to the main hall to see me."

Sersmir turned around, his expression cold: "Since he wants to die in front of the capital, then I will grant his wish. Tell the entire army that there's no need to rush the northern expedition. Just set up your formation outside the capital and wait for this Earl to walk right in."

The scout immediately kowtowed and hurriedly retreated.

Sersmir looked at the empty doorway and snorted coldly.

"Lorraine, your courage is commendable, but your foolishness will cost you and everyone in Frostwolf City their lives."

He raised his hand, and faint black demonic energy swirled in his palm.

In the time since he usurped the throne, he has completely seized control of this enormous power.

In his eyes, he is now the only savior of this country, while Lorraine is nothing more than a stumbling block to his great cause.

Since the stumbling block has rolled over on its own, let's just crush it underfoot.

The main entrance to the royal council chamber.

The heavy marble doors were slowly pushed open, making a dry, scraping sound.

Three figures exuding a powerful aura walked in side by side.

Walking on the far left was a woman dressed in a black robe.

She was tall and slender, her face hidden in shadow beneath her hood, with only her eyes, which gleamed with an eerie silver light, standing out starkly.

As she moved, the space around her seemed to ripple like water, creating extremely subtle folds and distortions.

This is Sharon, the High Priestess of the Royal Family and a Sixth-Order Space Witch.

The woman in the middle wore a heavy, yellowish-brown leather armor. She was plump and walked barefoot on the carpet. With each step she took, the dust on the ground would automatically move away.

She is the Second Priestess, a sixth-order Earth Witch, Brenda.

On the far right was a burly man over two meters tall. He wore heavy plate armor carved with thorn patterns, his hands resting on the hilt of the greatsword at his waist. With each step, the heavy armor clanged against itself.

He is a third-ranking priest, a sixth-ranking Templar Knight, Galahad.

The strong support of three sixth-tier powerhouses.

This is the biggest trump card that has allowed the Violet Royal Family to stand firm, and it is also the source of Sersmir's confidence to poison the old king and forcibly transform the monster army.

"His Majesty."

The three men walked up to the steps, bowed slightly, and spoke with respect, but more so with the arrogance of the strong.

"Gentlemen, the young count from the North has already set off in his toy car—heading straight for the capital," Thursmir said casually, pointing to the northern sky.

The Space Witch Sharon chuckled softly, her voice as clear as a silver bell, yet devoid of any warmth: "He drove here in a mobile city? It seems he's in a hurry to present that relic from the Golden Age to His Majesty."

"Don't underestimate them, Sharon," Brenda, the Earth Witch, said in a deep, muffled voice. "Anyone who can control a moving city must have considerable mental strength."

"So what?" Knight Galahad scoffed, his thick fingers clenching his armor with a sharp crack.

"Before my sword, neither iron armor nor city walls can be smashed to pieces. Your Majesty, if he dares to come, I alone can twist his head off."

Thursmir came down the steps and stood in front of the three men.

"I summoned you here not to hear your pledges of loyalty," Thursmir said slowly, looking at them.

"Since Lorraine dared to come, he must have been prepared to deal with my 500,000-strong demonized army. After all, we are all familiar with the firepower of mobile cities. Ordinary troop deployments may just be a war of attrition for him."

"But... what will he use to deal with the three of you?"

A hint of mockery flashed in Thursmir's eyes:

"Two sixth-tier witches and one sixth-tier knight. Faced with absolute rank suppression, any number of low-ranking troops is a joke. Even if he has fourth-tier or even fifth-tier witches, can he withstand the combined attack of the three of you?"

"Of course we can't stop it." Sharon slightly raised her chin, her expression aloof.

"The distance in space is an insurmountable chasm for low-ranking witches. If I wanted to, I could instantly appear in his command room and snap his neck."

"not to mention……"

Thursmir turned around and pointed in three directions deep within the capital city outside the palace.

There, three magnificent buildings, towering into the clouds, radiate different colors of light and are clearly visible even in daylight.

"We also have three witch-exclusive buildings that have been passed down through generations in the royal capital."

Thursmir's voice was filled with an irrepressible fervor and pride:

"Brenda's 'Puppet Factory' can continuously supply fearless clay colossi; Sharon's 'Spatial Folding Device' allows our army to appear in any corner of the battlefield at any time, and even directly project spatial turbulence into his mobile city!"

"And... that fourth-tier monster transformation altar."

He pointed to the central altar, which radiated a blood-red light, and licked his lips: "As soon as the war begins, all the fallen soldiers will be instantly transformed into monsters and thrown back into the battlefield. We have an inexhaustible supply of soldiers!"

Sersmir looked at the three powerful figures before him and spread his hands.

"Throughout the entire kingdom, only the capital possesses these three buildings exclusively for witches. This is the foundation bestowed upon the Violet family by the gods. That Lorraine is nothing more than a bumpkin who dug up some antiques in the remote North; he has absolutely no chance of resisting this power."

"Your Majesty is right." Galahad grinned, revealing a set of gleaming white teeth. "This war was doomed from the very beginning."

"Then go and prepare." Sersmir waved his hand, his eyes turning completely cold.

"Set up the battlefield on the Red Maple Plain, thirty miles outside the capital. I want to be there and watch his mobile city turn into scrap metal."

The three sixth-tier experts exchanged glances, then bowed and withdrew in unison.

As the palace doors closed again, the hall fell into darkness once more.

Sersmir stood in the darkness, his smile gradually turning sinister: "Lorraine... I'll be waiting for you right here. Just don't break down on the way."