It was an open battlefield, a vast frozen lava plain stretching beneath the largest mountain on this frozen island. Beneath its towering peak, a massive army had gathered, standing in formation before a floating throne, where Atlas sat, waiting.
This was his chosen battlefield, the place where he would welco his enemy tonight.
Had they really taken the bait? Had they truly accepted Atlas’s provocation and marched all the way here just to answer his challenge?
In an open space like this, escape was nearly impossible. A lord with weak forces foolishly challenging a superior alliance in such a setting? That would be nothing short of suicide.
This was an obvious trap.
But their enemies weren’t fools, either. They knew Atlas had used similar tactics against another alliance before. They wouldn’t just fall for a simple ambush, right?
And yet, here they were.
From beyond the frozen treeline, the enemy forces erged, their numbers filling Atlas’s entire line of sight. They had seriously brought nearly 80% of their army. At least 400 troops marched into this battlefield.
anwhile, Atlas had barely over 100 soldiers at his side.
It was blatantly a trap, but the real question was. What kind of trap?
A Seeker-rank Lord openly challenging a massive, superior force in an open battlefield? What could he possibly be planning?
Planted explosives? A hidden detonation?
If that were the case, then Atlas’s own forces would also be in danger. There was no easy escape from this battlefield. The enemy knew this terrain just as well as he did.
By now, every competent lord in this skirmish would have already analyzed the island’s terrain in full. They wouldn’t be fooled by sothing so obvious.
But that was exactly the real trap.
The mont a weaker lord dared to challenge an overwhelmingly superior force, it sparked sothing far more dangerous than an ambush. And it was a curiosity.
The enemy lords, powerful as they were, wanted to know.
What kind of strategy had Atlas prepared?
How exactly did he plan to win?
And that was what lured them here.
Now, if this was truly war, and if Atlas truly had a strategy to overco these odds. Then it was ti to show them.
And end this. Tonight.
Atlas’s gaze swept across the enemy army. Their numbers were nearly four tis his own. Each individual soldier was at a higher level, their strength nearly twice that of his own n.
This was a joke. Seriously.
What kind of strategy could possibly let him win in a situation like this?
**
Atlas descended from his floating throne, stepping forward to et his opponent for the night. The gold-armored lord, or should he call this lord by his na? Godfrey.
A quick glance at the enemy ranks confird sothing unexpected. Only one lord had co. The remaining three had stayed behind at the Central Fortress, likely still enjoying their sense of security.
Even so, this one lord alone had brought over 400 troops. Far more than what should have been under his direct command. This was clearly a combined force, pulling soldiers from multiple lords within their alliance.
That ant back at the fortress, at least 100 troops remained, along with the three other lords still stationed there.
Atlas’s gaze shifted back to the towering figure approaching him.
The gold-armored lord walked with a calm yet imposing confidence, his massive fra rivaling Karian’s height. Yet even bulkier, a mountain of sheer strength. With each step, his heavy armor clanked softly, his smirk unwavering as he closed the distance.
Honestly, Atlas found it almost amusing. His seemingly foolish challenge had been taken so seriously that this lord had personally marched out with even more troops than expected.
That was nothing short of an honor.
"Hey, boy," the man spoke, his voice deep and condescending. "I ca all this way in the dead of night to grant your request. To completely crush you. Shouldn’t you be grateful for the grand service I’m providing?"
Atlas smiled, offering a slow, deliberate bow before replying.
"I couldn’t be more pleased. I had low expectations, but you’ve shown up with far more troops than I anticipated."
Godfrey let out a sharp "Hah!", his face twisting into a look of pure disdain.
"So, what exactly have you prepared for us?" He swept his gaze over Atlas’s forces. "This pathetic excuse of an army? This is all you have to show for all that effort?"
His smirk widened as he folded his arms. "I could wipe out every single one of them by myself. And this is the best you can offer ?"
Atlas swept his gaze over his troops, then turned casually back to the enemy lord, his expression calm, almost bored.
"You know," he said lightly, "I could have brought even fewer troops. But here I am, trying to honor this war by bringing my full, pitiful forces. The kind of suicidal battle you’ve been imagining all along."
He finished with a thin, cutting smile.
A faint twitch pulled at the enemy lord’s brow. His lips curled into a dark grin as he growled,
"Go on... I want to hear just how far your delusion will go. Before I turn every word of it into your reality!"
"Most of my forces were actually busy gathering materials from the monsters we hunted in the caves," Atlas continued, voice smooth, almost playful. "But I thought, why not bring everyone here? So yeah... this is the best I can offer you."
The tone was carefree, almost mocking, and it stung like a slap.
The gold-armored lord’s jaw tightened, muscles coiling under his rage. For days, he had endured Atlas’s harassing strikes, each one chipping away at his pride, each loss gnawing deeper.
And now?
Now Atlas mocked him to his face.
Kurogasa’s intelligence reports had been perfect. The Ninja Rat hadn’t just dissected each lord’s power. He had broken down their personalities, their flaws, and their weak spots.
Edrik’s strategies, combined with Atlas’s reckless but deliberate risks, had built this mont. Together, they had designed a plan to draw out this particular lord. The one most vulnerable to psychological warfare.
Yes, his strength was overwhelming. But his pride? His temper? Those were his shackles.
And now Atlas had baited him into the open, dragging nearly his entire army along with him.
It was almost laughable. The so-called strongest lords of the Dominion Skirmish... undone by such a simple trick.
The gold-armored lord narrowed his eyes, glancing around at the surrounding terrain, his expression turning more suspicious.
"And where are those teenage lords?" He sneered, scanning the higher ground around them. "Those fragile little girls who chose to ally with you? Are they waiting to ambush us? Hiding in the cliffs, hoping to strike from the shadows?"
He let out a mocking laugh, his eyes still darting over the landscape. "Where are they? This is supposed to be an all-out war, isn’t it? Why aren’t they here to finish this properly?"
Atlas gave another slow bow before answering.
"They are part of my alliance, but this war..." He straightened, eting the enemy lord’s gaze directly.
"This war is mine alone. And I will fight it my way. I’ll finish it on my own terms!"
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