Elden: Ring of Calamity

Chapter 463 Wings of the Dragon King
"Your Highness has woken up, and all his injuries have healed!"

The cheerful voices echoed in the camp, and the relaxed and chaotic footsteps continued to spread in all directions. Soon the entire southern expeditionary army woke up from their sleep.

The soldiers spontaneously flocked to the central army tent. The strict military discipline prevented them from being overly crowded. The soldiers in the rear could only see the backs of heads densely packed in front of them. However, this did not prevent them from spreading the exciting news in circles until the entire army was completely excited.

Lucia walked among the crowd, her eyes sweeping across one young face after another.

Their cheeks were stained with dried blood and dust, the whites of their eyes were bloodshot, but their pupils were filled with flames of excitement. Even if you just looked at them briefly, you would feel that your chest was burning.

Lucia walked up to a young swordsman, who looked to be no more than seventeen or eighteen years old, with a childish look in his features, a thick bandage wrapped around his chest, and a strong smell of medicine all over his body.

A dangerous penetrating wound went straight through his back from under his right shoulder, less than two centimeters away from his spine. Fortunately, most of the military doctors equipped in the Southern Expedition Army were senior golden monks. After timely treatment, he had barely regained his ability to move.

"How did you get hurt?" Lucia asked.

"I was chasing the remnants of the army and was bitten by a desperate giant," the swordsman replied proudly. "As soon as the beast opened its mouth, I stabbed its upper jaw. This is the twelfth giant I have killed, Your Highness!"

"Does it hurt?"

"A little bit." The swordsman wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with his left hand, and smiled, "But when I think about the bastards I killed, they should be in more pain than me, so it doesn't hurt that much."

The soldiers who heard this burst into laughter and cheers.

"He's a good soldier." Lucia patted his left shoulder gently.

The swordsman raised his arm, and just when Lucia thought he was going to force himself to salute and was about to stop him, the young swordsman actually patted his shoulder lightly with his backhand.

This was completely uncontrollable, the person involved just stood there in a daze, and the soldiers around who were witnessing the incident just stared at each other in amazement, none of them dared to say a word.

"What's your name?" Lucia, who had come to her senses, asked with a stern face.

"Al. Alfred." The swordsman blushed and answered stutteringly.

“Alfred—hahahaha!”

Lucia suddenly slapped back and laughed heartily.

"Not only a good soldier, he will become a good general in the future!"

He continued to walk deeper into the crowd, and the soldiers plucked up their courage. Those who came closer would pat His Highness on the shoulders, back, and even chest, and then excitedly show off to their comrades.

After a long and fierce battle, all the soldiers of the Southern Expedition Army were in a miserable state. After a while, Lucia's newly changed white robe was covered with dust and blood. But he didn't take it as an offense at all. Instead, he laughed even more heartily. When he met someone who was not injured, he slapped him back hard. When he met someone who was slightly injured, he used a little force to make the other person grimace.

Among them were seriously injured soldiers like Lucius. This former New Party spy had both his legs replaced with prosthetic limbs and was pushed out in a wheelchair by his comrades.

Lucia squatted down, held his hand and chatted with him for a long time. Through the crowd, I couldn't hear what they said clearly, but I saw Lucius' eyes were red and he nodded heavily. If you stand on the clouds and look down at this picture, the total number of less than 7,000 soldiers of the Southern Expedition Army is like a gray ocean, and their lord walking among them is like a newborn dragon with scales. As he goes upstream, his dragon scales become more and more mottled and thick, until they are stained with blood and dust, just like fine steel forged a hundred times and reborn from the fire.

“You think that His Highness is only one step away from becoming a true king, right? The coronation ceremony is all that’s left for him?” Hilbert said, stroking the stubble on his chin and looking around.

"If you are not a true king, all the ceremonies are useless," Leville read the most books among the generals, and said something profound that Hilbert could not think of. "Since you are a true king, why do you need ceremonies?"

"Anyway, I'm not going back," Serin said succinctly. "The Ancient Dragon Dynasty is so big, I'm sure Your Highness will have a place to accommodate my magician group."

"Where is Lord Oleg?" Hilbert looked at the senior who was standing in front of them and had his back to them. "After this battle, will you still have to live the same precarious and helpless life as before?"

Ever since Lucia entered the army, Oleg had been staring at the figure as tall as a sword.

In his eyes, Lucia was once an unmatched sharp sword, born at the dusk of the ancient dragon dynasty when it was in trouble both internally and externally, and it relied on its own sharpness to cut a ray of hope for its homeland.

But now Lucia has slowly faded her edge, not that she is no longer sharp, but that she has become deeper, heavier, solemn and dignified.

He still made his enemies tremble and feel fearful, but the difference was that his people could boldly lean their backs against the sword without worrying about being hurt. They could even gradually turn their own will into steel and fuse it into one, together emitting a brilliance that would shock the whole world.

That is the true sword of the king.

He is no longer alone. Wherever the king's will goes, billions of lives will become his sword edges to wipe out all enemies in the world.

"I have been searching for too long." Oleg turned his head and said softly, "I am looking for a place for the survivors of the storm to live and a strong enough shelter for them."

"I used to think that for people like us who have lost our homeland, being able to survive in the new era is the greatest luck, so I never dared to ask for more. But after learning about what His Highness did in Rodel, my thoughts slowly changed. I wanted more and more, so much that every time I would laugh and scold myself for being greedy, what kind of dream did I have to have such a foolish wish?"

“But now, I don’t laugh at myself anymore.”

Compared to the former Storm King's left wing who was nearly fifty years old, the three legion commanders who were as young as the soldiers looked at this predecessor. There was a bright smile on his half-worn face, but tears were already streaming down his face.

"Because I found that what I asked for was not much, and what Your Highness asked for was much more and greater than what I had in my heart!"

"I will never have to worry that the homeland I envision for the survivors of the storm will exceed the boundaries of your Highness's heart. The world you envision is so huge that even if you count all the people who have lost their homes, it will not be enough to fill even one fraction of that world."

"In that land, all those who are not recognized by the law can be accepted, and all those who are not blessed by the gods can be protected. The so-called homeless wanderers will no longer wander from the moment they see Your Highness."

"I once lost a king," he said in a voice as light as the wind, even trembling a little, "and the world was so kind to me that it gave me a new king."

"From this day forward, I hope you will join me in becoming the wings of my king, riding this unprecedented storm, and together witnessing the arrival of a new era."

(End of this chapter)