Chapter 123: Marshal Gnisson

Seeing so many enormous eagles soaring across the sky, Adolf broke out in a cold sweat. Although these eagles were rare in the Moon Alliance territories, their fearsome reputation was deeply ingrained in everyone’s hearts. The long-standing legends surrounding them only added a veil of mystery to these gigantic birds. And today, to see a large number of these creatures—once only known from myth—serving as part of the Goblin Legion sent a chill of fear through the goblins.

Before the shock brought by the eagles had even subsided, the ground began to tremble violently, as if gripped by an earthquake. Adolf hurriedly turned his gaze, and when he clearly saw what was approaching, his mouth dropped open wide enough to fit an egg.

In the distance, a dozen or so colossal humanoid monsters were slowly advancing. These creatures stood at least fifteen meters tall, their bare chests exposed save for massive leather skirts wrapped around their waists. Each of them bore a single enormous eyeball atop their head, radiating an eerie, chilling light.

“Cyclops!” Martin exclaimed beside Adolf.

According to tribal legends, there existed towering, robust giants with only one eye, hence called Cyclops. It was said that these giants could uproot mountains and hurl massive boulders to deliver deadly blows to distant enemies. Known for their ferocity, each appearance of these giants was accompanied by rivers of bloodshed and chaos. Within the Moon Alliance, they were even used by mothers as a frightful tale to scare children.

But now, here they were—real and formidable. With each step they took, the earth shook violently. The dozen giants moving together made it seem as if the very mountains were trembling.

Adolf was utterly stunned. Though he had long known of the goblins’ strength, he had not expected it to be this terrifying. Reflecting on the beggar goblins he had fought for thousands of years, Adolf felt an overwhelming sense of relief. It seemed the goblins had no intention of annihilating the Moon Alliance; otherwise, sending such a legion would have overwhelmed them entirely.

By this point, the goblins of the Moon Alliance had surrendered. Most finally realized that despite their pride in their own civilization, they were, in truth, the real barbarians.

After a while, a swift horse galloped up to Adolf. Squinting, he recognized the rider as Sypus, the half-elf he hadn’t seen in days.

Sypus rode a tall chestnut stallion, clad in gleaming silver half-armor, with a flowing crimson cloak billowing behind him. His presence was strikingly heroic.

“Lord Sypus, it’s been a long time,” Adolf greeted hurriedly, the sharpness drained from his spirit.

“Ha! Indeed, it has been a while. Look, your reinforcements have arrived,” Sypus smiled, gesturing towards the steady stream of goblin troops marching nearby.

Gazing at the formidable goblin legion and then at his own trembling subordinates, Adolf’s face twisted into a grimace.

“Lord Adolf, Marshal Gernison, commander of this force, has asked me to invite you to discuss military matters,” Sypus said quickly, noticing the somber expressions.

Fully aware of the situation now, Adolf immediately agreed, summoning Martin and the other deer cavalry to follow Sypus to the central command.

Though dozens of deer riders helped hold the line, Adolf felt like a mere beggar compared to the disciplined goblin army beside him. As he prepared to meet the marshal, unease filled his heart.

Marshal Gernison was a towering bear goblin, about forty years old, with sharp eyes. Mounted on a massive direwolf, he wore exquisite silver armor that gleamed dazzlingly in the sunlight.

Seeing such a formidable figure, Adolf’s confidence shrank even further. Yet, to his surprise, Marshal Gernison was courteous and spoke calmly.

“Chief Adolf, I seek your tribe’s logistical support. As you know, the distance from the goblin rear to here is great, and our supply lines are under immense strain. Therefore, the Moon Alliance must provide part of the provisions,” Gernison said with a smile.

Adolf’s expression darkened upon hearing this.

The Moon Alliance had suffered heavy losses in their recent campaign against the Flower Planting Tribe. Every tribe was already tightening its belt for the war. Now, with the arrival of the goblin army’s tens of thousands more mouths to feed, Adolf wondered how the poor goblins would manage.

Yet, he had no choice but to agree. This was the will of the goddess; all he possessed was granted by her, and he dared not face her wrath.

“Very well. We will provide supplies and ensure the army’s needs are met,” Adolf said decisively. For the sake of his position, he thought, starving a few goblins was no great loss—they could always have more children.

Marshal Gernison was pleased with his response. As a token of gratitude, he generously gifted a batch of weapons and equipment to the Moon Alliance, much to the delight of the goblins.

Before parting, Gernison suddenly asked Adolf a question: “Not long ago, did Sun Licheng slay a goblin hero?”

Though puzzled, Adolf nodded affirmatively.

Having obtained the answer he sought, Gernison said nothing further, waving for Sypus to escort the still-bewildered Adolf and his party away.

As Adolf’s group disappeared into the distance, Gernison’s face darkened. The silver cup in his hand rapidly twisted and was soon crushed flat.

Gernison’s full name was Gernison Brown Tree, head of the renowned Brown Tree family, and father of Calvin Brown Tree, who had been slain by Sun Licheng. Though his youngest son’s talent was mediocre and his temperament cruel, he had nonetheless acquired the power of a hero.

Originally, Gernison had intended to send his son to the Northern Territories for training. Unexpectedly, the boy was incited to join the war, only to be killed, leaving a treasured blade in Sun Licheng’s hands.

Losing a son prematurely, old goblin Gernison harbored a deep, bitter hatred for Sun Licheng. Upon receiving the king’s orders, he summoned the elite of his legion and came north to seek vengeance.

“Sun Licheng, I will tear you limb from limb!” Gernison roared, his voice echoing with fury as he recalled his son’s face and voice.

Meanwhile, Gou Rou piloted a flapping-wing aircraft, mapping the area around the forward camp according to Sun Licheng’s plans.

Having abandoned the Flower Planting Tribe’s camp, Sun Licheng decided to establish a second defensive line, with the forward camp as the critical stronghold.

Though fully aware the enemy would soon launch a massive assault, the ingenious tactician still advised Sun Licheng to hold the line. If the enemy breached the Forsaken Land, the Flower Planting family would lose all strategic depth and be left completely vulnerable.

To this end, Sun Licheng ordered over five hundred combat automatons from the underground fortress. Though many were merely recently repaired shells, they could still effectively operate the magic crystal cannons and artillery from afar.

As for what to do next, Sun Licheng couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. He had no clear plan beyond this.