Outside the Kent Mountains Pass.

The unexpected turn of events escalated into a decisive battle that was still ongoing. Maston, launching attacks from both sides simultaneously, maintained the initiative on the battlefield and steadily pushed forward, squeezing the Milanía army entrenched on the high ground where the original Maston camp was located.

However, the situation was not optimistic for them either. Even though the rate of personnel loss was not as high as during the long-range fire projection once they entered the melee combat stage, being at a disadvantage with Milanía holding favorable terrain and defending from below did not make the casualties a cause for celebration.

The soldiers' stamina was limited, unable to maintain a fierce offensive indefinitely. The enemy's defensive posture, conserving energy, could result in additional losses if Maston's assault faltered and retreat became a possibility, leading to a possible rear onslaught.

For Maston soldiers, who had originally deployed plans to swiftly defeat the central army led by Granzon with a three-sided pincer attack, this outcome was clearly unacceptable. Hence, they needed more power to dismantle Milanía's defense.

Specially crafted fuel, burning and releasing a large amount of heat, caused hot air to rise, inflating huge balloons and dark skins. These aerial whales, hovering in the sky, completed their preparations far beyond the range of archer cannons in Maston's rear and headed towards the Milanía army, casting a shadow of death.

"One, two, three... six ships."

Granzon counted the approaching airships quietly. According to the intelligence gathered during previous battles, these belonged to two attacking formations. While the presence of a few airship formations from Maston at other locations was expected, Milanía's forces had no more countermeasures besides destroying the airships before they reached altitude.

But Granzon had an idea. In a purely conventional war perspective, countering such flying objects that exceeded the maximum range of the archer cannons seemed to be futile. Still, there was hope for individuals with powers like "Chi" or "Magic."

Additionally, due to the production requirements and restrictions on fuel and materials, the flying altitude of these early-stage airships, used in combat, was not very high. Even at a height of five hundred meters, it was within the range where high-ranking knights could throw Chi.

"The wind is southwest by east, five to ten meters."

"Deploy the attack formations; prioritize targeting artillery positions and archers."

After the commander of the airship formation conveyed the orders through flags, the two formations of three ships each gradually transformed into two triangular formations and pressed confidently towards Milanía's artillery positions. Specially designed bombs painted in dark red containing fire elements, suspended by special knotted ropes, slowly descended from the gondolas, ready to drop at any moment.

The commander of the formation waited, waiting for the moment the bombs would fall on the enemy's position in the center.

"What's that?"

While staring intently at the ground battlefield, the commander suddenly saw a faint blue light rising from the ground, heading directly towards the airship where he was stationed with high speed and precision.

Was that a spear?

A thought flashed through the commander's mind as the spear, infused with frost Chi, pierced through the relatively fragile hot air balloon envelope, piercing through the maneuvering mechanisms, stabilizing wings, and leaving a chilling impact.

"And... five ships."

Beside Granzon, who had just left the high ground, lay a bundle of untied spears. He picked one up with his right hand and, after weighing it, threw it with a powerful Chi-enhanced motion.

This time, almost all the soldiers on the battlefield witnessed the brief and dazzling eruption of icy Chi. The spear spun, forming elegant ice crystals in the air before accurately hitting one of the airships. This time, it even pierced through the ammunition storage compartment, causing an explosion that engulfed the airship itself. The shockwave made the surrounding airships sway violently, almost falling.

"Hail to the War King! For the kingdom!"

The visual effect of the airship exploding mid-air was captivating. This new type of weapon, which had caused dread among the Milanía army on the frontline, crumbled at Granzon's hand, bolstering the morale of the Milanía troops. The frontline soldiers shouted slogans, squeezing out every ounce of strength to press back the faltering line of defense once more.

The remaining four airships also reacted and immediately increased their speed and maneuvers to evade Granzon's spears. However, maneuvering for such airships, especially for these upgraded hot air balloons, equipped with only rudimentary steering rudders and low-power propellers, was slow in direction changes and speed adjustments. Dodging, especially when facing enemies capable of anti-air capabilities, made them extremely vulnerable.

Nevertheless, the accuracy of the spear throw was slightly off, grazing the tail rudder of the last airship in the first formation.

"Missed by a hair? Then let's try again... Hmm."

Another spear was drawn from a bundle at his feet, and following a moment of Chi concentration, Granzon threw it with force. The exertion of throwing powerful spears spanning hundreds of meters drained both physical strength and Chi more than anticipated. Even with just three throws, signs of fatigue had started to surface - a regression compared to his days in the capital.

Granzon chuckled self-deprecatingly, acknowledging a slight decline in his abilities. He gathered his resolve, tightening his grip on the spear. Meanwhile, some Milanía military officers with knight-level abilities also attempted to imitate Granzon by throwing spears or enhancing arrows with Chi to attack the airship formation.

Unfortunately, their strength did not match Granzon's level. While most of the spears reached the altitude of the airships, they lacked precision and kinetic energy after losing momentum, making it possible for the airships, which could still maneuver, to evade.

The airship formation became aware of the potential threats below and the fact that they were the only aerial attack formation participating in the battle on Maston's side. They began to gain altitude swiftly and released all the bombs.

The fire element bombs hanging from the airship descended like ripe grapes, accelerated by the sudden disconnection of the ropes, falling towards the ground.

"Aerial attack! Evade the bombs!"

The archers who were still showering arrows experienced some confusion. Some soldiers tried to use shields to defend themselves, but when the bombs exploded nearby, they were still inevitably thrown into the air. Although there were casualties, the overconcentration of the bombardment resulted in limited coverage compared to a more evenly distributed bombing as per the attack plan.

More concerning than the casualties was the explosion of the sealed barrels of gunpowder on the artillery positions, which damaged nearly half of the cannons. This setback facilitated Maston's wings to advance successfully, and the reserve teams followed suit, effortlessly entering the battlefield as the frontline formation began to retreat.

With their bombing mission complete, the airships began to retreat, ascending in height, turning smartly, and leaving gracefully.

As the distance between them and the airships grew, Granzon could only relent. Failing to destroy all the airships in one go, he could only hope for their next attack. Having learned from past experiences, the next assault would likely involve raising the altitude even at the expense of accuracy.

Would he have to resort to old tactics once more?

Granzon, gripping a spear in his right hand and holding his chin thoughtfully with his left, pondered the possibility of a direct assault on the airships behind the enemy lines after busting through the frontline.

But it seemed challenging, right?

Previously, while flanking the rear and launching an assault, his personal guard cavalry suffered considerable losses. Facing a more prepared enemy formation, completing the mission solely based on numerical strength was nearly impossible. Even considering his combat prowess -- while a Level Nine Knight could be formidable individually -- the survival rates of those who followed him into battle were almost non-existent. Moreover, any mishap on his part charging into the enemy lines would be catastrophic against Milanía's current military might.

If only his daughter had accepted his original plan - to charge a thousand miles, slay Maston's king, fall in battle, and let the army's revenge-driven emotions, combined with Tiran's extraordinary feats, swiftly unify the troops for a complete expulsion of Maston or even a counterattack.

Yet, as the king, he could not afford to fall freely. Granzon sighed, wondering if his age was catching up with him, as he was now contemplating success probabilities and their ramifications. If it were the him from eighteen years prior, he would have charged without a second thought.

Meanwhile, situated in the distance, in a temporary command post behind Maston's right-wing forces.

"The frontline assault is stalled. Though we made some progress with the recent aerial attack, Milanía's formations are too dense, and their counterattacks have recaptured some lost ground."

Several staff members were incessantly manipulating a sand table designed as a chessboard to depict the battlefield situation and provide tactical suggestions.

The commander of this corps, General Tomahasco, stood silently beside the sand table, observing the strategic simulations in silence.

Compared to his role as a corps general, Tomahasco was not particularly old, just over forty, though one could easily mistake him for someone in their thirties from his looks. Sporting short deep blue hair and no armor, he wore only a black Maston military uniform and a pair of golden-rimmed glasses, a stark contrast to the common image of a military man in Maston. As one of the rare academically inclined senior leaders within the Maston military, he was no mere armchair strategist. it was he who had first proposed the nighttime ambush of the Blackstone Keep garrison and coordinated with the airships to breach the city. The gradual encroachment within Milanía's territory was also initiated by his forces.

Now faced with the renowned War King on the opposing side, he too felt a sense of excitement. However, he was currently unable to translate that excitement into actionable strategies.

"Lord Raymond, your direct approach of all-out assault only depletes our forces. Milanía's overall number is not significantly inferior to ours, and with the Kent mountain fortress reserve troops also diverting our resources, we should concentrate our forces at the center—"

"Tomahasco, Tomahasco."

Perched on a chair behind him, meant for a battlefield commander, a fellow who lacked any semblance of a military figure, interrupted Tomahasco's words.

"First and foremost, you should address me as Vice Admiral Raymond."