Although Viktor possessed certain means, his abilities as a Grand Mage were limited, preventing him from calculating matters concerning higher-level domains.
However, he surmised that with Swain personally taking action, and even Kowida's defeat being so dire, Karul likely wouldn't fare any better.
"Then... what is to be done?"
Karul had never imagined that the situation in the northwest had escalated to such an extent. Faced with this predicament, he was clearly at a loss.
Seeing Viktor's silence, Karul lamented, "Big Brother, it was you who urged us to rebel against Santi Roman; now, you cannot abandon us!"
Viktor glanced at Karul, clearly displeased by his attempt to shift responsibility. Yet, seeing his pitiable state, Viktor couldn't bear to refuse. He sighed, "At this point, you'd best return to the Winter with me. As for your territory... let it be."
Karul immediately refused, "How can that be? My thousands of brothers are eagerly awaiting my return as their leader. How can I, Karul, abandon them?"
Viktor shot Karul a look and scoffed, "You're like a clay ox crossing a river, struggling to save yourself. Where do you have the leisure to care about the lives of others?"
Karul blushed at his taunt, remaining silent for a long time. After a while, he finally said, "Big Brother, could you ask the Winter Emperor to send troops to attack Santi Roman? The Santi Roman Empire has dispatched its army to Gistede, its interior must surely be weak. Attacking Santi Roman at this time would make it difficult for the Santi Roman army to remain in the northwest for long."
Seeing Karul's face full of expectation, Viktor sighed deeply, "The Winter's borders have been repeatedly breached by Banturadell. The Winter Lord is currently troubled. Now that things have stabilized slightly, His Majesty is actively deploying forces to attack the beastmen. He will absolutely not attack Santi Roman.
Moreover, if Salefes dared to send people to attack the northwest, they must have made thorough preparations. Even if the Emperor were foolish enough to listen to me and attack Santi Roman, we would gain no advantage.
My dear brother, cease all your fantasies. Returning to the Winter with me is far more enjoyable than dwelling in those wild lands."
Karul pondered for a long time before reluctantly saying, "If that is the case, I can only follow Big Brother's arrangements. However, Big Brother, I must return to the northwest first to give my brothers an explanation."
Viktor mused, "The situation in the northwest is tense and perilous. Since you are already out, my dear brother, do not venture into danger lightly. As for your brothers, without you, they will scatter like birds and beasts after a tree falls. Swain will certainly not trouble them."
Karul looked at Viktor and stubbornly insisted, "I must give my brothers an explanation."
Viktor, seeing his solemn expression, felt something was amiss, though he couldn't pinpoint what it was. His intuition told him that Karul's trip would be fraught with danger. However, knowing Karul's nature, he realized further persuasion would be futile. He swallowed the words of advice that were on the tip of his tongue and said, "Brother, go quickly and return quickly. Do not delay, lest unforeseen complications arise."
Karul nodded, bid farewell to Viktor, and, riding the dark wind, headed back towards the northwest without looking back.
Viktor watched Karul's receding figure until it vanished into the vast horizon, a sense of inexplicable defeat washing over him.
He had thought this was the best way out for his brothers, only to have led them to their deaths. Had he truly been wrong? With this thought, he let out a long sigh, "Karul! You must take care!"
As Viktor had predicted, Tydarel had made his deployments, even selecting the individuals: Agamemnon for the vanguard, and Gulagas as the main general to lead the advance, gathering nearly half of the Winter faction's capable officers.
They had even cleared the Taolou Canal to attack the beastmen, expending immense human and material resources. Would they abandon it midway?
The beastmen, too, had received accurate intelligence from Eagle Eye reconnaissance and were preparing their counterattack.
In the beastmen court, the war cries were high. Gagel was greatly pleased and immediately ordered the Wolf King to prepare for battle.
Karul, consumed by melancholy, did not notice Viktor's hesitant expression. He returned to the northwest with his heart full of disappointment. He never expected that in just a few months, the northwest would fade from the stage of competing heroes.
"Is it all over like this?"
Karul, muttering to himself, immediately dismissed the thought. It was too soon to concede defeat. To the west of the northwest lay the Ten Thousand Mountains, ruled by the Barbarian King Saien. Further west lay a vast, unknown territory.
If necessary, he could hide in the deep mountains and forests. After all, he had soldiers and generals; he would eventually rise again.
Karul's mind wandered as he traveled. Before he knew it, he had returned to the main camp. A few sentries in the camp were either dozing or warming themselves; most had already fallen asleep, the only sounds being the quiet rhythm of breathing.
It was still some time before the adjutant's arrival. Karul, having tossed and turned all night, could no longer resist the overwhelming fatigue. He collapsed onto his bed and fell into a deep sleep.
In his dream, he saw a battlefield of clashing swords and horses, the thunder of hooves, and the deafening roars of battle. The dream was so vivid, the sounds almost tangible. Karul shifted and suddenly opened his eyes.
He heard the commotion and the clash of metal outside, the shrill, distorted howls... all sorts of sounds intermingled. Without looking, he could smell the thick scent of blood and imagine the scene outside his tent.
As Karul sat up, the tent flap was pulled open, and a central army soldier rushed in. "My King, the Santi Roman army has broken through! We are surrounded!"
The trembling voice, born of fear, sent a chill deep into his heart.
Karul was already out of bed. He strode towards the soldier, grabbed him, and grunted fiercely, "What are you afraid of?"
"No... no."
Karul threw him to the ground and roared, "Follow me and break out!"
Karul lifted the tent flap, and the biting cold wind, along with the thick scent of blood, surged into the tent.
Karul glared fiercely at the Santi Roman soldiers illuminated by the raging fires, tightened his grip on his saber, let out a fierce war cry, and charged into the thick of the enemy, joining the fray.
His indomitable spirit was palpable. The moment he joined the battle, he slew several Santi Roman soldiers.
The remaining Santi Roman soldiers, clearly intimidated by his aura, hesitated to meet his charge head-on, involuntarily retreating. The Northwest Army quickly gained the upper hand.
Karul surveyed the battlefield with piercing eyes, scanning the situation. Wherever the Northwest Army's defense was weak, he charged. However, it seemed to be ineffective. The Santi Roman army's momentum was like a rainbow. As soon as he shifted his attention elsewhere, the Santi Roman army would quickly gain the advantage.
Amidst the throng, Karul's gaze finally locked onto the Santi Roman army's commander, a middle-aged general wielding a long spear, slashing and killing to the left and right.
Karul charged towards the enemy commander without hesitation. To capture the leader is to capture the king. With his current weakness, he could only hope to survive by swiftly and decisively killing the enemy commander. Otherwise, he would eventually exhaust himself and die.
The middle-aged general at the heart of the battlefield was Augert. Augert's scouts had discovered the whereabouts of Karul's contingent, and with their small numbers, he had devised a night raid plan and led his army forward.
Augert's abilities were such that he could not sense the impending danger. Just a few days prior, after his great victory against the barbarian army, he had become incredibly arrogant, even giving rise to a delusion in the undefeated Augert that fighting on the battlefield was merely a matter of routine.
When Karul charged forward with his horse and saber, the first thing Augert felt was not the biting killing intent, but the exhilaration of capturing the king.
However, Augert was surrounded by battle-hardened guards who thrived on the blood of the battlefield. They had faced countless battles, drawing their swords from blood and returning them to blood. The moment they saw Karul, they recognized his danger.
"General, be careful!"
One of the guards issued the first warning before Karul's galloping horse reached them, and immediately, this sentence became his epitaph.
"General! Danger!"
Another guard shielding Augert uttered these words before being cleaved in two by Karul.
Augert had not expected the opponent to dispatch his two guards so easily, yet he did not feel the slightest bit of fear. Instead, it only fueled the valor in his chest.