Elven cultivators

The Tal Plain.

This flat plain, stretching across the northern end of the Thunder River basin, is like a gray-brown ribbon, separating the fertile river valleys to the south from the permafrost of the northern Frost Ridge Plateau.

At this time of year, herders would be driving their flocks of long-haired sheep along the ancient road hidden among the wild grass, and the sound of camel bells from caravans would occasionally drift in the morning mist, adding a touch of human life to this desolate wilderness.

However, today, this peace that has lasted for countless years has been completely shattered.

Densely packed troops were deployed on both sides of the plain, facing each other across a vast, empty wasteland more than ten kilometers away.

The wind blew in from the north, carrying dry dust and the smell of rust, making the banners flutter loudly.

On the south side, the Silver Moon Clan's camp was spread out along a gentle earthen slope.

The tents were arranged neatly, made of canvas in shades of gray-green and ochre, blending seamlessly with the surrounding withered yellow ground, making them almost indistinguishable without close inspection.

The watchtowers stood at even intervals at the corners of the camp wall, and the soldiers on top of the towers rotated frequently, their eyes always fixed on the north.

Outside the camp, rows of Yellow Turban warriors stood like silent iron stakes, spaced several steps apart. Their heavy, dark gold armor gleamed with a somber luster under the midday sun, exuding a chilling and murderous aura.

To the north, the Bloodclaw clan's camp was quite different.

The tents stretched like a gray wave, from the foot of a low hill all the way to its top, almost covering the entire gentle slope.

Watchtowers, arrow towers, and makeshift observation platforms protruded from the dense canvas roofs at varying heights, like iron nails driven into the ground. Every so often, the figures of soldiers patrolling could be seen moving between the tents.

From a high vantage point, the difference in size between the two camps is quite obvious.

The Bloodclaw Clan's camp was at least several times larger than the Silvermoon Clan's.

From the very first day of their arrival at the Tal Plain, both sides continuously sent out scouts to investigate the situation on the other side.

Numerous scouts tugged and tore at each other in the open wilderness between the two camps, with small-scale battles breaking out almost every day.

At noon, the sun was high in the sky.

In the center of the northern camp stood a huge tent made of dark animal hide, with poles as thick as two people could hug. The bronze claw mark emblem on the top of the tent was dazzling in the sunlight.

It was the command post of the Bloodclaw Clan's army.

The tent was brightly lit, with magic crystal lamps hanging below the beams, casting distinct light and shadow on the faces of those seated around the long table.

Casper sat at the head of the table, his gaze sweeping over the faces that were either excited or calm, and a sense of pride welled up within him.

As the eldest son of the clan chief, he held a very high position in the clan and was raised from childhood to be the successor to the clan chief.

Even so, under normal circumstances, his qualifications and reputation would be far from sufficient to command a battle of this scale.

If his father and the elders hadn't gone to the Ash Wasteland to ambush Anton, command would never have fallen to him.

Casper was well aware of this, and knew that many of the generals in the tent might not be convinced, but he didn't care.

As long as we win this battle, all doubts will vanish.

His prestige within the clan will also rise to a new level.

The Silvermoon Clan will become the stepping stone for Casper Bloodclaw to reach the pinnacle of power.

Casper took a deep breath, suppressing the rising heat in his chest, and turned to look at his adjutant beside him, trying to keep his tone steady.

"Tell me about the enemy situation."

"Yes, Lord Casper."

The adjutant stepped forward, unfolded the dossier in his hand, and reported in a deep voice: "Based on the reports from scouts and aerial reconnaissance over the past few days, the Silvermoon Clan has deployed a total of approximately 250,000 to 300,000 troops in the Thunder River Basin and other defensive lines in the Green Highlands. The main force consists of troops from vassal races, while the main legion is entirely concentrated in the Tal Plains, with an estimated strength of no more than 100,000..."

Because of the greater distance, the Bloodclaw Clan's actions were a few days slower than those of the other twenty-odd factions.

At this time, the latter had already launched an attack on the Thunder River Basin and the Green Heights, and the battle was in full swing.

Through exchanges with these other forces and through reconnaissance over the past few days, the Bloodclaw Clan has basically grasped the distribution and number of troops of the Silvermoon Clan.

As soon as the adjutant finished speaking, a wolf-blooded general sitting in the middle sneered, "Less than 100,000... even for the main legion, this number of troops is far too small."

"After all, it is just a newly risen power with shallow foundations."

The surrounding generals chuckled softly, their faces revealing undisguised mockery.

The Bloodclaw Clan mobilized its entire force for this war.

Apart from leaving a minimal number of troops to guard their own territory, almost all the troops that could be mobilized were withdrawn.

Currently, there are as many as 600,000 troops assembled on the Tal Plains, of which 150,000 are the main force of the clan, the "Wolf Fang".

Their military strength is more than six times that of the Silvermoon Clan.

With such a huge gap in skill, they simply couldn't imagine how they could lose.

Although Casper felt confident of victory, he still coughed lightly to suppress the general's laughter, fulfilling his duty as commander.

"The Silver Moon Legion is quite powerful, and those alchemical golems are not to be underestimated either. We still need to be cautious in our dealings with them."

Upon hearing this, the generals gradually stopped laughing, and none of them refuted the statement.

After all, the destruction of the Steelmane tribe was right before their eyes. No matter how much they underestimated their opponents, they couldn't just forget the lessons they had learned.

Casper paused, then turned to his adjutant: "Have you found any trace of the Flying Radiance Tower?"

The Flying Tower is the name of the three special flying vehicles that the Silvermoon Clan used to raid the Steelmane Tribe.

The Silvermoon Clan made little attempt to conceal this; the name was hardly a secret in the eastern part of the continent.

The adjutant shook his head and said, "We've searched the area for hundreds of miles around, but we haven't found any trace of any flying vehicles that resemble the Flying Tower. Aerial reconnaissance also didn't detect any unusual energy fluctuations."

Casper frowned and remained silent.

The Flying Tower was the Silvermoon Clan's most feared asset.

The ability to project organized troops across half the continent has a deterrent effect in actual combat that far exceeds its actual combat power.

The Steelmane tribe suffered from this very mistake; all their elite troops were deployed to the border, leaving their rear vulnerable and allowing the Silvermoon clan to storm their stronghold.

A wolf-blood general standing nearby seemed to have guessed Casper's thoughts and said with a smile, "Lord Casper, you don't need to worry. The Silvermoon Clan's lightning raid tactics are effective against the Steelmane Tribe, but they may not work on us."

"Bloodclaw City has a complete magic array defense system and is not afraid of air attacks at all. Moreover, Bloodhowl Fortress is located to the north. If the Silvermoon Clan's Flying Towers dare to cross the Frostspine Plateau, we don't even need to lift a finger. Bloodhowl Fortress will definitely be overjoyed and take action."

Upon hearing this, the generals all nodded in agreement.

"That's right."

"Bloodhowl Fortress has long coveted the Flying Sun Tower, and they will never miss an opportunity to capture it."

"The Silvermoon Clan only lords it over the eastern part of the continent; they would never dare to venture into the northern part."

At this moment, a general hesitated before speaking up: "I'm more worried that the Silvermoon Clan will use the Flying Radiance Towers to cut off our supply lines."

The general who spoke earlier said dismissively, "The clan leader had anticipated this long ago and prepared thirty armed airships equipped with heavy crossbows and magic crystal cannons specifically for the supply line, as well as 30,000 Bloodwing Demon Bat cavalry, which can take off at any time to provide support."

"No matter how powerful those three Flying Star Towers are, can they withstand the interception of thirty airships and thirty thousand cavalry and completely uproot our supply lines?"

"The Silvermoon Clan's trump card is the Flying Radiance Tower. If we can seal this trump card, they will surely be defeated!"

The generals in the tent all nodded in agreement.

This makes sense, and even the veterans who had been silent nodded slightly.

Casper smiled as well.

"Lord Casper, how is the ambush on Anton going? Have the chieftains and elders sent back any news?" another general asked.

Casper's expression paused for a fleeting moment, almost imperceptibly, but he quickly returned to normal.

He carefully considered his words and said in a low voice, "Anton is more troublesome than expected. Elder Baal unfortunately died at his hands."

Before the generals' expressions could change drastically, he continued, "However, Father and the elders have successfully trapped Anton with the Dragon Bone Blood Prison. In a little while, they will be able to kill Anton."

Upon hearing this, the generals' expressions softened again.

Elder Baal's death in battle was heartbreaking, but as long as Anton could be replaced, this outcome was not unacceptable.

With Anton dead, the morale of the Silvermoon Clan's army, the people, and the cohesion of its vassal races will collapse in a very short time.

Even if the remaining Silvermoon Legion is elite, it is just a headless body. How long can it last?

"Let's put Anton's matter aside for now," Casper's tone regained its composure. "The most important thing right now is to win this battle."

At that moment, the tent flap was lifted from the outside, and a messenger officer strode in, stood beside Casper, and respectfully reported: "Sir, the entire army is ready, and all units have completed their formations at their designated positions and are ready to depart at any time."

Casper nodded, stood up from his chair, and his tall figure cast a thick shadow in the tent.

He faced the generals present, his gaze sweeping over each face, and said in a deep voice, "Pass down the order: the entire army will attack."

"My lords, this battle concerns the honor and future of our clan. We must achieve a resounding victory!"

"A resounding victory!"

The generals responded enthusiastically.

……

Command camp in the center of the Silvermoon Clan camp.

A large magical sand table was laid out on the long table, with the terrain of the Tar Plains meticulously sculpted in an area of ​​about a foot square.

The terrain's undulations, the outlines of both sides' lines, and the skirmisher positions marked by scouts were all indicated by small flags of various colors.

The three elders, Roman, Cedric, and Elena, along with other clan leaders, sat around the long table, discussing their next tactics and occasionally reaching out to adjust the positions of some of the flags.

At that moment, the tent flap was lifted, and an elven officer strode in, bowing and reporting, "Elder, the Bloodclaw Clan has begun its campaign. The vanguard has already left the camp and will enter the middle of the plains in about 35 minutes."

Everyone's expressions turned solemn, and they all looked at the Grand Elder.

The latter turned his gaze away from the sand table and looked at the horizon outside the tent, which had been baked gray by the scorching sun.

"Pass down the order: the entire army is to attack."

His gaze swept across the faces of the elves present, his expression resolute.

"Let the Bloodclaw Clan see our power."

All the clan leaders nodded solemnly, said nothing more, and turned to leave the tent one after another.

Soon, a deep and drawn-out bugle call sounded, spreading along the wind across the wasteland and breaking the silence between the two camps.