Faerun: The arcane mage is still too imprisoned.

At noon the next day, the sun was high in the sky, making people feel lazy.

After a night and a morning of rest, Lance has returned to his peak.

Holding Little Black, I flew back to Rild City.

[Flying Technique] This thing is really comfortable. If it weren't for the limited arc, he would wish to float in the air every time he walks.

As soon as he flew over the city lord's mansion, he saw a window be pushed open with a "snap," and Graham's scarred face popped out, his eyes wide like copper bells.

"That old man has a good eye."

Lance muttered to himself as he slowly descended.

The city lord, who had been unusually eager, strode over and grabbed Lance's arm as soon as he landed.

"How is it?!" Graham asked in a low voice, but he couldn't suppress his eagerness.

Lance's arm ached from being gripped so tightly; he thought to himself that this level 12 warrior's grip strength was truly formidable.

He subtly tried to pull his arm away—but couldn't.

"...Let's go inside and talk," Lance said helplessly.

The two entered the study, and Graham slammed the door shut behind him, locking it with a click.

Lance raised an eyebrow: "Is it really necessary?"

"As for," Graham said solemnly, "every word you say now could affect the course of this war."

Lance: "..."

Okay, whatever you say.

He carefully selected and revised his account of the events.

Kill Redmond, burn the supplies, destroy the baggage train, and annihilate all the vanguard professionals.

Of course, some details were handled differently—for example, saying "I took on more than a hundred professionals by myself" would be too shocking, so Lance made it vague as "using the night and illusions to deal with them in batches".

Even so, Graham was still dumbfounded.

This battle-hardened city lord had his mouth agape enough to fit an egg.

"You...you're all alone?" he stammered.

"And there's also Little Black." Lance pointed to the black cat on his shoulder.

Little Black meowed at just the right moment.

Graham: "...It seems like Blackie has only been a pet for a few days. The last time I saw it, it was just a regular kitten."

He took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled.

"Mage Lance," he said, his tone frighteningly solemn, "you are truly a hero of Rield."

Lance waved his hand: "Stop with the pleasantries, what's a more concrete reward?"

Graham paused for a moment, then burst into laughter.

"Yes!" He slammed his hand on the table. "After the war, I'll recommend you for the best! A title, a fief, and gold coins—you'll get it all!"

"Alright," Lance nodded. "I'll wait."

Graham turned and walked out, saying as he went, "I need to write a battle report immediately and send it to the capital as fast as possible. Such a great achievement must be known to His Majesty the King as soon as possible!"

He walked to the door and then looked back at Lance.

"Go back and rest," Graham said. "There are still tough battles ahead."

Lance nodded, picked up Little Black, and left.

……

The capital of the Kingdom of Eredland.

In the enormous royal council hall, civil and military officials stood on both sides, each keeping their eyes down and not daring to breathe loudly.

On the throne, a burly middle-aged man was slamming his fist on the table and cursing loudly.

"How dare you! That little king actually dares to send troops to attack me!"

This is King Rex Ereiland III of the Kingdom of Ereiland, a level 14 warrior, known for his notoriously bad temper.

He stood up and paced back and forth, his magnificent royal robes swirling behind him.

"When he ascended the throne, I even sent someone to witness the ceremony! But he, lacking any martial virtue, launched a sneak attack on me!"

The ministers below remained silent, trembling with fear.

"An army of 100,000!" Rex slammed his hand on the armrest. "Send out 100,000 troops immediately!"

An elderly minister with gray hair quickly stepped forward: "Your Majesty, please calm down! The intelligence may not be true, and it may not even require an army of 100,000..."

"I personally promoted Graham, would he lie to me?!" Rex glared at him.

The old minister wiped his sweat: "Then...then we don't need 100,000 to defend against the Sassanid army of 30,000..."

"Thirty thousand today, what about tomorrow? The day after?" Rex sneered. "Does that mean I don't know how to send troops, but others don't?"

The old minister opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something.

Rex interrupted him abruptly: "Is your brain filled with nothing but your dissertation defense?"

The old minister's face immediately turned a deep purplish-red.

Rex pointed his finger at him and yelled, "How could my father appoint a stupid pig like you as a minister? I never noticed before... Now you're relegated to a low-ranking official position, starting from the bottom, to get some training!"

The old minister's legs went weak, and he almost knelt down.

The ministers beside him lowered their heads, secretly glad they hadn't spoken.

After finishing his rant, Rex returned to his throne and sat down, letting out a long sigh.

"And another thing," he said, his tone softening, "who said I was going to resist?"

The ministers were taken aback.

Rex's lips curled into a cold smile.

"What I want is to seize the seven border cities of the Sassanid Kingdom, then force them to sue for peace, and then..."

"Ahem." Rex cleared his throat. "Anyway, if he crosses the border, I will too. What are you all standing around for? Get ready!"

"yes!"

The ministers bowed in unison and filed out.

That afternoon, the order to mobilize 100,000 troops was issued, with provisions provided by towns along the route.

This support force includes:

The twelve Exemplary Rank members are: six level 12 warriors, three level 12 rogues, and three level 11 rangers.

One hundred elite-level individuals, all of whom are level 5 or higher professionals.

There are also thousands of professionals at levels 1 to 4, and nearly 100,000 well-trained regular troops.

The commander was Rex's younger brother, Prince Alfred, a level 13 warrior, known for his composure.

Before leaving, Rex patted his brother on the shoulder and said, "Tell Graham that I'll back him up. Let him fight with confidence. If he loses, I'll cover for him; if he wins, I'll reward him."

Alfred nodded and mounted his horse.

A massive army of 100,000 men marched south.

……

In the Sassanid kingdom, after Cassius's urgent letter arrived in the capital...

King Aldrich Sassan turned green after reading the letter.

"Three thousand cavalrymen, two hundred carts of provisions and supplies, gone and gone..."

He frowned and said, "But where did this Exemplary Mage come from!"

The ministers below remained silent.

Aldridge paced back and forth a few times, then suddenly stopped.

"Pass down the order," he said. "Have Olaf depart immediately."

The ministers gasped in shock.

Olaf Ironspine, the only Hero-class warrior in the Kingdom of Sassanid, level 15.

He was tyrannical and fought like a madman, particularly fond of splitting his enemies in two. However, he also valued honor highly, never bullied the weak, and became more excited the stronger the opponent.

It is said that when he was young, he once charged into an orc tribe alone and fought for three days and three nights, killing so many orcs that they ran away whenever they saw him.

"I'm relieved that Olaf is going." Aldrich sat back on his throne and let out a long sigh. "Tell him to tell Cassius to hold on for me. Reinforcements will arrive soon, and Olaf will keep that Exemplary mage occupied."

The ministers simply agreed in unison.