Work Prophet

This thought made Solomon shudder. Throughout his life, he had fought many battles, but none had been as bizarre as the one at hand.

It was as if they were grappling with an invisible opponent. His most valiant warriors, whom no enemy could defeat, were now dying by unseen swords.

A significant reduction in numbers occurred on the seventh day after setting out.

That day, a full hundred Wing Clan Warriors died, many of whom were Solomon's confidants, whose names he could call out.

Including the coachman who had gone with him to rescue Lannita, he too looked haggard, with a swollen throat and breathing difficulties. Accompanying wizards bled him, but it was to no avail.

He eventually died in agony, while the interpreter who had gone with them had fallen ill two days earlier.

But Solomon still did not let the army stop moving forward. Despite his reluctance to admit it, Solomon had begun to realize that the strange events befalling them were likely related to the Double Rest Sect.

That man, who claimed to be the Prophet, was undoubtedly a wizard with powerful, malevolent witchcraft.

Perhaps only by defeating him could they break the curse upon them.

And though those dwarves and the surrendered imperial nobility now showed them respect, the moment these hyenas sensed the leash loosening and saw weakness in their masters, they might turn and bite back.

Therefore, Solomon needed to maintain a tough stance externally and keep pushing the frontline forward.

Indeed, the best course of action would now be to abandon all allies and lead ten thousand Wing Clan warriors and the Storm Monarch directly to Green Field.

Just as they had done from Crab's Corner straight into Lion Heart Castle, fully leveraging the advantages of the Wing Tribe.

However, Merlin now also had a dragon, and that White Dragon had become exceptionally fierce for some reason.

Without the curse, Solomon might have relied on the ancestral Dragon Hunting methods to kill the White Dragon, but now, even if they succeeded, it would come at tenfold, a hundredfold the cost.

This was too risky, especially since Solomon could not be sure whether Li Yu and Ireya had any more tricks up their sleeves.

The Wing Clan Commander spread out the map of the western territories. On the western side of Green Field, he noticed a large swamp named Gai Gu. If Ireya hid her army in the swamp instead of facing him head-on,

over time, the situation would likely become increasingly unfavorable for him.

Ever since arriving in Bratis, Solomon had been continuously victorious, but he still dared not relax as he only had ten thousand troops.

Losing even once could mean no chance for a comeback.

After weighing his options, Solomon decided to stick to the original plan, letting the dwarves and those surrendered imperial nobility take the forefront to clash with the Arias family and their allies.

His Wing Clan army and the giant dragon would intervene at the crucial moment to secure victory.

This idea was enticing, yet Solomon underestimated the terror of the curse.

With each passing day, more and more of his troops were ensnared by the curse, and the rate of increase was alarmingly fast.

Even the wizards accompanying the army, responsible for treating the wounded, could not resist that evil force; many perished.

And that was not the worst. On the night before occupying Lake City, Solomon himself fell ill. Although it didn't last long, and he quickly regained consciousness,

his condition was not good. He didn't even follow the plan to summon the City Lord of Lake City. Instead, he hastily replenished some supplies and urged the army to continue moving forward.

But on the following day, while handling military affairs, Solomon fainted again.

By then, a full two thousand of the ten thousand troops he had brought were afflicted with the strange illness.

When Solomon awakened, his subordinates and wizards all urged him, advising him to temporarily abandon the plan to assault the western territories.

The Wing Clan Commander thought it over and only took half the advice, allowing the Wing Tribe people to return to Lake City first to rest, but the remaining ones had to keep moving forward.

With Rock Snow City within easy reach, Solomon didn't want to stop at this point, and without eliminating Merlin and the Double Rest Sect, the curse on them couldn't be lifted.

This time, Solomon brought a large army to attack the western borders, including nearly seventy thousand soldiers, even after discounting ten thousand Wing Clan warriors, which included nobles from the western territories and their armies who had been recruited along the way.

Just these forces alone gave him a fair chance of victory against Ireya and her allies.

Solomon planned to rest for a few days in Lake City, catch his breath, and, once the curse had lessened, set out again to catch up with the front-line allies and seize Green Field, crushing the resistors hiding there in one fell swoop.

This idea was also quite appealing, yet reality once again revealed its brutal side.

In Lake City, the exhausted Wing Clan warriors received the long-awaited bread, hot meat soup, and warm beds... but these could not restore their health.

The death toll continued to climb.

The semi-enclosed indoor environment accelerated the spread of the virus, infecting more and more people, leaving the wizards helpless and unable to save even themselves.

By the third day back in the city, some even began to lose their minds, unable to bear the immense pressure, and slit their own throats with a dagger.

Solomon lay in his sickbed, listening as his subordinates reported the new death toll, which had already exceeded fifteen hundred.

If Solomon remembered correctly, this was the largest casualty they had faced since setting foot on this continent.

And he, as the Wing Clan Commander, was very aware that this was far from the end but just the beginning.

They were doomed.

Who would have thought a month ago that this invincible Wing Clan army would end in such a way?

This time, Solomon said nothing and issued no orders, merely waving his hand to dismiss the messenger.

Because he had no solution.

Everything that had happened here was beyond his capability and even his understanding.

This illustrious Wing Clan Commander recalled an afternoon a month prior when a young Sabbath named Redio walked confidently into his mansion.

In his presence, without a hint of fear, he uttered that sentence:

—You all shall stop right here.

What Solomon felt now was no longer anger, but deep fear.

A deity named Saturday, brandishing a sharp blade, was running amok in the crowd and slaughtering.

And he could do nothing about it.

Solomon felt a wave of fatigue and wanted to close his eyes, but just then the door was forcefully opened, and the Wing Clan warrior who had previously come to report the casualties stumbled back in a panic.

His face was also full of fear, and he was holding something in his hands.

Solomon strained to open his eyes and look into his palms.

It was a dead crow.

"From the sky, crows are falling from the sky!!! Crows are falling, they too, are dying!!! Lord Solomon," the newcomer cried out in a panic.

"This land is cursing us, cursing all creatures of the sky."