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In a small room, the leaders of several major Tribes from deep within the Wilderness were gathered. They were discussing details, their purpose unknown.

"Lately, a certain human has made quite a na for himself in the Wilderness," the Pigman Leader began. "Rumor has it he’s slain a dragon."

He was the strongest Warrior of the Pigman Race, confident that his personal martial prowess was absolutely top-tier. Even that fellow Gus would have to put in so effort to take him down.

But even so, he still held a deep reverence for anyone who could slay a dragon.

Giant Dragons and Giants were the apex predators of this world. A single glance at their majestic forms, which blotted out the sun and sky, was enough to make one feel the vastness of the heavens and the earth, and their own insignificance in comparison.

Anyone capable of slaying a dragon was not to be underestimated.

"It’s just an exaggerated rumor. Humans always like to blow things out of proportion to show off their strength. They claim he slew a dragon, but in reality, it was probably an Earth Dragon. After all, an Earth Dragon is still a type of dragon—no one can argue with that."

The Giant Goblin offered his opinion, utterly dismissive.

The many flaws of humanity were deeply ingrained in his mind. In his view, this human was rely exaggerating to spread his own fa.

’This human is probably just soone with an undeserved reputation.’

’If he kills this so-called Dragon Slayer, wouldn’t his own fa beco even greater?’

Everyone present agreed with his assessnt. Giant Dragons were not so easily slain.

They were all champions of their respective Races, possessing extraordinary strength. A giant tiger of the Wilderness—a fatal threat to an ordinary person—was nothing more than a large house cat to them, sothing they could kill with just a few punches and kicks.

Yet even so, none of them would dare boast they could even scratch a single scale on a Giant Dragon.

"The human army is currently at a level we can handle. If they continue to raise the stakes, only the bitter fruit of defeat awaits us." Centaur Gus saw the situation clearly.

Despite their current montum, which made them seem invincible, they were nothing compared to an entire Human Kingdom.

"So, just how long does Leon expect us to be the diversion?" His gaze fell upon the Minotaur leading them.

"For as long as you can." As the supre leader of this Alliance Army, the Minotaur Shaman’s reply was terse.

"And the matter you promised ..."

The Centaur was cut off before he could finish.

"A ripe apple will eventually fall to the ground, Gus. Be patient."

...

Based on the calendar, it should have been early winter at most, but this year the weather was unnaturally cold. A bitter wind blew ceaselessly from dawn till dusk, its constant wail echoing across the Wilderness. By nightfall, it sounded like the howling of ghosts.

Although Levi remained unfazed by the cold itself, the incessant wind was vexing enough that he couldn’t help but pull on the overcoat Baisitina had sewn for him.

Along the way, they occasionally saw the frozen-solid corpses of natives, their faces often locked in eerie, chilling smiles.

So of the Goat-man and Rabbit-headed Auxiliary Soldiers, feeling a pang of sympathy, tried to dig graves to bury these poor souls. Unfortunately, the once-soft turf was now frozen solid. After a great deal of effort, they only managed to carve out a small pit before giving up in frustration.

Sam, who was more knowledgeable, explained that the Wilderness People called this unnaturally cold weather the "White Disaster." According to legend, a thousand years ago, the entire Northern Territory all the way to the Wilderness was trapped in an eternal winter. But ever since the magical tides receded, it had started to experience spring, sumr, and autumn.

There had been unusually cold spells in past years, but none had ever been as fierce as this.

The wind was like a steel blade scraping bone, burrowing into cuffs and collars. No matter how thickly one dressed, without a constant heat source, body warmth would inevitably seep away. There was no telling how many Tribes would fail to survive the year.

"This goddamned weather is completely unsuitable for war! I don’t know what those bull-noses were thinking, picking a ti like this. I’ll have to chop down a dozen of ’em just to feel better!" Zat grumbled, his voice thick with resentnt.

He had spent several years in the south and was practically a southern Beastman now. He despised this kind of brutal winter, the likes of which he hadn’t experienced since childhood.

At this ti of year, he should have been in a warm wooden cabin, cheerfully roasting a cut of venison so succulent it would make any beastman drool.

Despite his complaints, the guy was still dressed lightly—at least, compared to the Goat-man and Rabbit-headed Auxiliary Soldiers, who were bundled up so tightly that only their faces were visible.

"When you can’t survive up here, heading south is the only option."

Levi and a few other leaders brought up the rear of the column, ensuring no one fell behind and vanished into the vast, snowy expanse.

When the army was still several miles from the Agate Plain, it halted. Under Fujero’s command, they found a leeward slope and began to set up camp.

This was bound to be a protracted war; no one expected a swift, decisive outco.

Thus, after the tents were up, they hastily began constructing various defensive fortifications.

Suddenly, a warning horn blared. The faces of everyone in the camp grew tense, but they moved with practiced discipline, forming ranks to et the enemy.

’So soon?’

The Lord was startled as well. He quickly and skillfully scrambled up a wooden post that served as a flagpole, one that was easily seven or eight tis a man’s height. From this high vantage point, he pulled a spyglass from his belt and took a look.

On a high slope in the distance, a squad of twelve Centaurs stood watching the Thorn Corps set up camp. Levi estimated they were two or three miles away.

Their position implied they treated the Thorn Corps’ territory as their own personal pasture, free to co and go as they pleased. It was incredibly arrogant.

"Brother-in-law, are the enemy attacking?"

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