The Lord Demon King is Unfathomable!

This...

Raman really didn't know how to answer.

Indeed.

Trees are everywhere.

The soldier who had studied pushed up his glasses and said to him.

"Listen, if you're a stranger, I'd advise you to follow the Duke, go wherever he tells you to go. But you're my friend, so I must tell you, never listen to what those big shots say, watch where they are heading."

Raman retorted.

"Erin is in Twilight Province."

The soldier squatting beside him laughed and said.

"But isn't Edward in Thunder City?"

This...

Raman was stumped again.

The soldier who had studied continued to advise.

"It's not easy for you to earn your discharge pay, so don't waste it in Twilight Province. Find an honest job, then look at what your boss is doing and follow his lead. If he quietly buys a house, you should buy one too. When he advises you to buy, make sure not to, just like those Colin Group stocks."

"You see those Ryan people are pitiful, but have you ever wondered why they are poor? Is it only because their King is bad? Some lands can only grow potatoes, while others can grow wheat, even though I haven't farmed, I understand—"

"Dong—!"

The rough sound of a bell suddenly erupted, causing all the soldiers to subconsciously stop talking and scramble to get up from the ground.

Urgent footsteps sounded, and they saw their Centurion approaching with a stern face.

He was no longer the proud rooster he appeared to be in front of the Prince a few days ago; now his face was icy cold like frost.

"Assemble! Bring your gear, emergency mobilization!"

After speaking, he went to the next tent.

Raman's heart skipped a beat.

This tone wasn't for an exercise!

He rushed into the tent, grabbed his beloved "Roxey Rifle," then followed the crowd out of the tent with the other young men.

Under the urging of the bell, the entire camp became a frenzy.

Soldiers were running through the mud, officers' roars rose and fell as if enemy artillery was overhead.

Several hundred-man teams quickly completed their assembly, immediately left the camp after counting, and advanced full-speed towards the main channel of the Rushing River.

Raman's heart was half nervous, half excited. Watching the other camps not far away, he licked his cracked lips.

Finally heading to the frontline?

But where exactly is the frontline?

A moment of confusion flashed through his eyes, and he suddenly remembered the legends of Thunder County and the restless Demons.

The Demon King had been their old adversary.

Although former King Aaron Campbell had slain it, everyone knew once one Demon King fell, another would emerge.

As long as the Maze existed, Demon Kings would keep coming.

The mobilization of such scale this season could only mean facing that enemy.

Understanding his opponent, Raman instead felt spirited, with burning battle intent dispelling the confusion in his eyes.

Perfect!

He was ready to show those creatures from the Maze a thing or two, letting those bloodthirsty beasts experience an unprecedented firepower!

No doubt, just like the Lizardmen of the Southwest Swamp, the sound of gunfire would leave them soulless and prone on the ground.

The march was tense and long.

Thankfully, the construction teams leveled the swamp road, allowing transport carts through, or else they'd spend several more days traveling.

However, when everyone arrived breathlessly at the Rushing River and broke through the last layer of sight-blocking reed beds, the sight before their eyes stunned them all.

The young man with glasses widened his eyes, his frozen lips trembling, forcing out a sentence.

"This is..."

The wide river was densely filled with flat-bottom boats, as if they had suddenly appeared, filling the vast Eternal River.

Some boats continued downstream, while others headed for the shores, landing at the shallows several hundred steps away.

Raman also widened his eyes.

No Demons.

No flames intense enough to roast his boots dry.

There were only humans like him, even his compatriots, with boots drenched by water like his own.

The only difference was, they were dressed in thin autumn clothes, carrying a variety of Flintlock Guns, everything just like before.

These brave Campbell gunners were jumping from barges into knee-deep river water, dragging their barges and supplies ashore.

Through the gloomy sky, Raman could even clearly see the relief and confusion on their faces; they likely drifted on this river for a long time.

Some had just vomited, still with stains hanging from their chests, faces pale, lips trembling.

But they didn't hesitate.

Under the orders of the officers on the shore, this seemingly ragtag group quickly formed ranks—

Undoubtedly, it was a war maneuver!

But why?

Raman's mind filled with confusion; newspapers arrived at the camp daily, they contained all kinds of information except this.

Just then, an officer's shouted orders temporarily dispelled the confusion in his mind.

"Warriors of the Seventh Thousand-man Team's First Hundred-man Team! The Campbell artillery regiment is on their way, soon they'll set up cannons on the hill under your feet! Now, advance with me! Hold them off until reinforcements arrive!"

The marching drums sounded.

Raman's feet moved instinctively, following the column beside him forward, with even breathing in sync with the cadence of the marching drums.

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