In the vast wilderness and among the rolling mountains, there is a long and narrow road, like a long snake.

Magur Trade Road.

This is a trade route with a long history, opened up by countless merchants over the past thousand years. It was once the main route of communication between the Principality of Rackman and the Principality of Bosk, and was also the only way for the exchange of goods and transportation of materials. The road surface is full of traces of the past.

"Notify the people in front to hurry up!"

"If we can't deliver on time this time, the higher-ups will blame us."

The rough voice of a middle-aged man came from the most luxurious passenger carriage, with a flame and vertical pupil emblem on the front.

A caravan with hundreds of carriages was hurrying along the ancient road, fully loaded with goods from the Burning Kingdom. Hundreds of fully armed earth elf soldiers were guarding both sides of the caravan - this was the "free trade caravan" led by Hart, and it was also a large-scale caravan representing the official Burning Kingdom.

This caravan was notorious in the northern countries, but attracted countless low-income citizens. They sold large quantities of cheap goods, making the Skandarians, who had never seen good goods, willingly hand over their gold and silver.

"call--"

The cold wind whistled past and lifted the car curtains.

Inside the luxurious carriage, Earl Hart couldn't help but let out a breath of hot, sulfurous air. As a noble with fiery dragon blood flowing in his veins, he hated this kind of cold and windy weather.

"Damn it, it's the strange wind from the north again."

"When your majesty unifies Anzeta, I will have to find a way to go south to do business. The weather here is terrible."

Hart said to himself, stroking his scale-covered chin.

At the front of the caravan, Old John was leading the carriage along the road. The wind made his thin body shiver. He couldn't help but wrap his cotton coat tightly to protect his weather-beaten old bones.

"May the King of Ashes bless you."

“Hopefully, everything will go well this time too.”

Looking at the trade road that seemed to have no end, Old John muttered to himself.

In the words of the merchants, the king of the kingdom seemed to have some kind of divine power that could grant them luck. Otherwise, how could they make a fortune in just a few short years and squeeze out the merchants from other northern countries?
Over time, grooms like Old John also got used to praying when traveling. It wasn't because they were particularly pious, but they just prayed for safety out of habit.

Old John was also born a serf.

However, he was sold to a caravan when he was in his twenties and became a traveling slave. Later, the caravan was captured by the kingdom's army and the leader of the caravan was beheaded in public.

But old John was lucky. Not only did he gain his freedom, but he also got a job as a groom because he was familiar with the trade routes.

"Old man, how long will it take us to get there?"

A girl's head suddenly popped out of the carriage. She looked about eight or nine years old. She had pigtails that were newly popular in the kingdom and looked quirky.

"Misha, didn't I tell you to stay in the carriage?"

John looked serious and tapped the girl's head lightly with the short stick on his whip.

"Well, just don't tell me."

The girl touched her head and shrank back into the carriage angrily.

She was originally a "commodity" in the slave caravan of the northern nobles, and was later rescued and adopted by John, who named her "Misha". Old John had no children, so he treated the girl as his own granddaughter and used his meager salary to support her education.

However, Misha always disobeyed discipline. She secretly hid in the cargo and sneaked into the caravan, causing old John a headache.

Old John drove the horse, muttering:

"I've told you before, being a trader is no joke. Bandits and monsters along the way could take your life!"

"With the protection of the kingdom's elite, do we still need to worry about safety? Hehe, since I'm here, let me see it for myself. It's a good opportunity for me to accompany you."

"Ugh"

Old John sighed and shook his head. This naughty girl always made him feel helpless, yet he was moved unintentionally.

He looked at the road in the distance, frowning slightly. "The Magur Business Road seems a little strange today."

"It's a bit too quiet."

The experienced John saw the clue at a glance. Magur is one of the busiest trade routes in the North. Usually there would be other caravans traveling on this route, but today there were only them.

"I hope it's just a coincidence."

Old John thought so.

He was just a humble groom and had no right to decide the actions of the caravan. He could only obey the arrangements of Lord Hart.

After all, in the Anzeta Wilderness, except for those irrational beasts, no one would be so foolish as to provoke the caravan of the Burning Cinders Kingdom, and the beasts usually did not pose any threat.

The horses in the caravan became restless, and Old John's brows furrowed and his lips trembled.

"Wait, this is"

It turned out that the ground was shaking.

There were bursts of rapid, thunderous sound of horse hooves.

Old John turned his head hastily -

I saw countless cavalrymen rushing down from the top of the hillside, galloping freely on the ground. Their shiny armor and flashing spear tips formed a torrent of steel in the wilderness, and the lion flag fluttered in the wind in the air.

"For the Principality of Bosk!"

"For the order of the North!"

Such calls were heard from far away.

They are the most elite cavalry in the North, and also the personal soldiers of the Bosk family!
"Enemy attack!"

"They are from the Principality of Bosk!"

"Who gave them the courage? They are declaring war on the kingdom!"

"Damn it, this must have been planned for a long time!"

The caravan suddenly became chaotic. People's shouting and scolding mixed together, making John feel dizzy.

Old John turned and looked at the carriage behind him. Although his forehead was covered with sweat, he still tried his best to stay calm and whispered to the carriage: "Misha, promise me, don't come out.

"Remember, no matter what happens, don't come out!"

But before he could finish his words, he was rudely pulled away by the hobgoblin soldiers.

After a moment of confusion, the caravan hastily responded to the battle under Hart's command, and as a member of the caravan, Old John was also pulled in to cooperate in the battle.

Hart personally came to the front of the battle, pointed at the cavalry attacking from a distance and shouted: "Shoot them into sieves!"

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The earth elf soldiers raised their spears and fired lead bullets, knocking down dozens of armored cavalry in the distance in just a moment.

This was originally an invincible tactic that could have been used to dominate the entire North, but now it has inevitable loopholes.

Because there were too many cavalrymen, and they were almost all Bosk's elite, and the hobgoblins had no cover, these cavalrymen charged fearlessly, and soon rushed to the front stepping on the corpses of their companions, piercing the hobgoblins' chests with long spears and chopping off their heads with sabers.

The hobgoblins also switched to spears and bayonets, chopping off the horses' legs or piercing the knights on horseback.

"For the Burning Kingdom!" "For the Principality of Bosk!" The voices were heard one after another.

The brutal fight began.

The whistling sounds of gunfire, the sound of gunpoints piercing flesh, the sound of horse hooves, wailing, and roaring intertwined on this battlefield, together composing a bloody song. (End of this chapter)