School Transmigration: I, Chosen as the Saint by Dragons at the Start-Chapter 197 --The Coastal Defense Line

Fedony raced to the front lines, perched atop a hillock, overlooking the enemy formation with its venomous sting.

The summit of the triple-layered fortress now bore several imperial flags, while the outer layer of houses, transformed into defensive works, had been sealed from the inside and was under fierce assault by the demon army.

In the courtyard, hundreds stood ready for battle, as the fortress’s soldiers unleashed volleys of arrows upon the demon forces.

Fedony bellowed an order, "Deploy the border cavalry, charge with all your might."

The cavalry entered the fray, momentarily overwhelming the left flank of the demon army, though reinforcements barely managed to hold against the cavalry’s breakthrough.

Meanwhile, the outer defenses of the Glazed Pavilion fortress had been breached in several places, and its guards were gradually being overwhelmed by the demon army.

It was infuriating; if only they could advance another hundred meters, they could align with the fortress, exerting greater pressure on the demon army, breaking their will.

As it stood, the fortress, though a thorn in the side of the surrounding demon forces, was insufficient to affect the frontline; their numbers were simply too few to pose a significant threat.

King Milan mused on this, when suddenly he saw a robust warrior leap from the top of the fortress to the roof of an outer defense.

A loud boom followed.

The warrior slashed down, creating a swath of blood mist some seventy to eighty meters before him.

King Milan watched as the warrior shattered the rooftop and fell, only to locate him seconds later through another trail of blood mist.

This warrior, paying no heed to the fortress behind him, charged towards the frontline soldiers of the demon army, cutting them down before they could even comprehend what was happening, leaving many dismembered.

After several such strikes, the force of the warrior’s sword energy noticeably weakened, but it no longer mattered—the demon army was shaken.

"Charge! Sound all the horns!" King Milan drew his treasured sword and declared loudly, "We have won!"

On the border between Whitelion Kingdom and Snow Kingdom, the southern stretch is a vast plain, a picturesque expanse where the eye sees nothing but green.

Before the war, merchants and travelers from both nations traversed this area ceaselessly, and the five fortresses of Snow Kingdom buzzed with lively activity.

Now, such scenes are likely gone forever.

The five fortresses have fallen to the demon army, transformed into true bastions of war.

Relying on these fortresses, the demon forces have established a solid defensive line.

With no natural defenses to hold, Whitelion Kingdom has built more encampments and deployed more troops than the demon army.

The defensive lines of both sides stretch southward to the sea and northward to the base of the great Green Mountain.

The Green Mountain range snakes north for hundreds of miles, separating the border defense of Whitelion Kingdom and Snow Kingdom from the main battlefront, making the border between Whitelion Kingdom and Snow Kingdom the second battlefield against the demon army.

Though deemed a secondary front, the conflict has seen only minor skirmishes since the war began.

The demon army, limited by insufficient numbers, and the Whitelion Kingdom’s forces, constrained by the lack of defensible terrain, risk a cascading defeat if an attack falters.

As a result, neither side dares to initiate an assault.

Relative to other battlefields, this region remains eerily calm, so much so that even the tremors from Ironblade City and Mingate have not reached here.

Calm can be terrifying, for beneath its serene surface may lurk turbulent undercurrents.

However, Mokeni, the supreme commander of the Whitelion Kingdom’s forces, harbors no such concerns.

Mokeni, a prince of Whitelion Kingdom and second in line for the throne, stands just over seven feet tall, with average looks, mediocre swordsmanship, and even more ordinary strategic acumen.

This is the chief commander of the Whitelion Kingdom’s army, the epitome of mediocrity.

The actual command of the Whitelion Kingdom’s forces lies in the hands of Deputy General Des, a commander of exceptional martial prowess, deeply trusted by the king of Whitelion Kingdom.

Having served in the military for nearly two decades, Des has spent years combating pirates along the eastern sea, displaying both caution and strategic acumen.

In over ten years of leadership, his record is unblemished by defeat.

The recent stretch of calm has, paradoxically, troubled him.

The more troops tied down here, the fewer that can be sent to reinforce the allied front lines.

Des has considered redeploying some soldiers to aid elsewhere but fears playing into the demon army’s hands.

Desiring a swift, decisive victory over the demon forces and after carefully reconnoitering their fortifications, he realizes that triumph with the forces at his disposal is unlikely.

Thus, he maintains the status quo, instigating minor skirmishes when opportune, ever vigilant for a decisive opening.

While Des waits for his moment, the demon army remains in a defensive stance.

Their commander, a brutish figure from the merfolk race, leads them.

Traditionally, merfolk were not counted among demons, but recent years have seen them conquered and turned increasingly vicious and aggressive under demon influence.

The commander’s orders are to defend, regardless of the enemy’s maneuvers.

As a loyal, if not particularly cerebral, leader, he executes these orders faithfully, confident that should any unusual situation arise, his superiors will take command.

His superior is Melania, the champion king of the demon army, the enigmatic Rakshasa who, for reasons unknown, once saved Owen.

Since the battle of Ironblade City, the empire has lost track of the champion king and her champion army, their whereabouts and intentions cloaked in mystery.

The last person from the empire who likely saw the champion king was Owen.

Owen reported to Generalissimo King Gerald that the champion king had saved him.

The champion king did not make this event public, and it remains unknown whether anyone was dispatched to investigate her reasons for doing so.

After all, Generalissimo King Gerald’s thoughts have always been inscrutable to others.

The whereabouts of the champion king have also eluded the empire’s spies.

She had arrived at this border frontline long ago, choosing to conceal herself within a fortress at the southernmost tip of the frontline, paying no heed to the day-to-day affairs of the defenses.

Her presence here was for a singular purpose: waiting for someone, someone within the demon army whose rank even surpassed hers.

"Lord Evan, I am at your service."

On what seemed an ordinary evening, the champion king in the fortress awaited this distinguished figure.

Evan, one of the supreme seven of the demon army, holds a status equivalent to that of the front-line high priest.

Evan’s appearance is profoundly grotesque; he is a ghoul, and among ghouls, considered to be quite handsome, which, to outsiders, translates to the epitome of ugliness.

Of course, Evan did not ascend to his position today through his "handsomeness" or grotesque appearance but through sheer power.

The dark arts practiced by Evan have reached an unimaginable level, placing him at the pinnacle among all demons.

It is said he can summon true ghouls from the depths of hell.

Now, on this evening, laden with significant developments, Evan finally arrived at the border frontline between Whitelion Kingdom and Snow Kingdom.

"No need for formalities," Evan spoke, his lips seemingly unmoved.

"Thank you, Lord Evan."

The last person from the empire to have seen the champion king was likely Owen.

Owen reported to Generalissimo King Gerald that the champion king had saved him.

The champion king did not publicize this act, nor is it known whether anyone was sent to investigate her reasons for doing so.

After all, the thoughts of Generalissimo King have always been inscrutable.

The whereabouts of the champion king remained elusive to the empire’s spies.

She had arrived at this border front long ago, choosing to stay hidden within a fortress at the southernmost tip of the frontline, paying no heed to the daily affairs of the defense.

She was here waiting for someone, someone within the demon army who held a higher rank than herself.

"Lord Evan, I welcome you," said the champion king on an ordinary evening, as she awaited this distinguished visitor within the fortress.

Evan, one of the supreme seven of the demon army, held a rank equivalent to that of the high priest on the frontline.

Evan was grotesquely ugly, a ghoul, and among ghouls, he was considered one of the most handsome, which to outsiders, seemed the epitome of ugliness.

Of course, Evan did not rise to his position through his "handsomeness" or hideous appearance but through absolute power.

His mastery of demonic magic was at an unimaginable level, making him a top existence among all demons.

It was said he could summon real ghouls from hell.

Now, on this evening, which had seen much happen, Evan finally arrived at the border frontline between Whitelion Kingdom and Snow Kingdom.

"No need for formalities," Evan’s mouth seemed not to move.

"Thank you, Lord Evan."

Melania asked, "Has the champion army also arrived here?"

"They follow me, aboard the large ships of the eastern sea pirates and will arrive tomorrow," Evan glanced at the champion king, then continued, "I will command this operation. Do not treat the champion army as your own; they are part of the demon army."

"Yes, I harbor no such narrow thoughts."

"Good, see you tomorrow." Evan disappeared into the fortress’s shadows in an instant.

Melania returned to her dark chamber, feeling uneasy with every conversation with Evan.

That night, she retired to bed early.

The next day, dozens of large ships appeared on the sea, laden with eastern sea pirates, the champion army, and a vast number of regular demon army soldiers.

The demon army on land also emerged in full force, pressing towards the Whitelion Kingdom’s camps both from the sea and on land.

The coastal forces of Whitelion Kingdom did not falter.

Des had anticipated maritime reinforcements for the demon army and prepared copious amounts of oil and traps.

Siege engines and giant crossbows, originally intended for sieging, were redirected towards the sea.

Whitelion Kingdom’s forces ignited barrels of oil and hurled them at the enemy ships and the sea surface using catapults.

The sea turned into a fiery inferno.

The leading ships caught fire, some had their masts smashed by giant boulders, and under the merciless barrage of arrows, many from the demon army fell.

Some merfolk dived into the sea and swam to shore, only to find that even if they emerged unscathed by the fiery missiles, the beach’s traps awaited to impale them coldly.

With the main force struggling to land, the demon army’s land troops were at a disadvantage.

From south to north, not only did the demon army halt its advance, but the engaged units were also repelled by the numerically superior forces of Whitelion Kingdom.

Mokeni was ecstatic, believing his moment had arrived.

If he could defeat the demon army, it would be a grand achievement.

With such unparalleled military success, the throne of Whitelion Kingdom might well be within his grasp.

He struck what he thought was his most dashing pose and shouted "Charge!" with all his might, only to find it had no effect.

The military token remained in Des’s possession, and under Des’s command, the Whitelion Kingdom’s forces methodically retreated, employing every tactic at their disposal, including poison gas, caltrops, and traps.

Unlike Mokeni, Des was cautious and collected, a rationale behind the king’s decision to entrust the military token to his deputy.

Upon receiving reports of the champion army aboard the enemy ships, Des knew the coastal defenses could not hold.

A breach in the sea defenses would leave the Whitelion Kingdom’s forces vulnerable, stuck on land against the demon army, while the formidable newcomers crossed the sea like a venomous snake, poised to devour the Whitelion forces from south to north, leaving nothing but bones.

His only hope was that the coastal troops could hold out a little longer.

However, he had not anticipated Evan’s entrance.

The ghoul appeared out of nowhere, casually unleashing a wave of dark energy that infiltrated the Whitelion Kingdom’s coastal defenses.

Within seconds, the soldiers stationed there began to slaughter each other in madness.