The moment he stepped out of the tent, the cold wind and fine snow brushed against his face, carrying the unique chill of the Northern Territory's late autumn.

Louis slightly tilted his head back, glancing at the gray and somber sky.

"...Less than three hours left." Several contingency plans flashed through his mind at lightning speed.

The defense perimeter has been completed, all kinds of traps are ready; the fuel for preheating and the magic explosion bullets have also been transported out, ready to ignite at the time of battle.

Everything was set according to the blueprint, so he wasn't in a panic.

Louis turned to Lambert and instructed, "Notify all the knights to assemble immediately, I have words to say."

In less than a quarter of an hour, the entire Knight Order lined up neatly on the open ground on the east side of the Red Tide Camp.

Louis stood on the makeshift high platform, his gaze sweeping over these knights he had trained himself.

He spoke, his voice not loud but resonant: "According to reliable intelligence, a Nest has fully awakened at the Cyan Rock Rift. The insect corpses will reach the border of the Red Tide Territory within three hours."

With just a few words, it was like a bolt of thunder striking the battlefield.

The whole audience was in a stir, with a low murmur and the subconscious tightening of grips on weapons, echoing one another.

Many knights' expressions changed; it wasn't the first time they heard the term "Nest," and many had even participated in Nest sieges, knowing what it meant.

It wasn't an enemy; it was a calamity itself, something that even though the Lord had defeated twice, could not be underestimated.

But Louis didn't let them think too much; his voice was instantly powerful: "I know what you're thinking. But you don't have to be afraid. Because we're ready! Ready with all the methods of attack, just waiting for it to fall into our trap!

And behind you are the people of the Red Tide Territory, your families, your friends, the homeland you built with your own hands!

Every step you take, behind you is the entire Red Tide, no retreat! Only victory!"

He took a deep breath, his tone as steady as a mountain: "But this is not a battle to send you to your deaths.

We have fire, traps, and plans; each of you has trained, has drilled!

This is not a battle to send you to die! It's not to die, but to win! Win a victory that belongs to us — belongs to the Red Tide!

Let everyone behind us see, that even a Nest, as long as it dares to step into Red Tide territory, we can turn it into ashes!"

He raised his right hand fiercely, clenched like a sword, his voice echoing like a bell: "In this battle, we seek not miracles! We only believe in the human spirit! Only trust the fire! Only faith in the swords in our hands!

Everyone, ready yourselves! Red Tide Knight Order!! Prepare to face the enemy!"

Initially, there was a deathly silence.

The north wind howled past, lifting dust and battle flags on the open ground.

But no one moved.

Each person seemed to be digesting the information they had just heard.

Suddenly, the sound of metal clashing broke the silence.

It was an older Elite Knight, who slowly drew his own sword, the blade glinting with a faint red fighting energy in the sunlight, like a spark ready to ignite.

Then — the second, the third...

Click, click, click.

Row after row of knights unsheathed their weapons consecutively, either holding swords or gripping spears, their gaze intently fixed on the figure on the stage.

"Even if it's a Nest... as long as it's the direction the Lord points, we will charge."

"He won't let us die in vain."

"We've already defeated them twice, and we'll defeat them a third time, and continue to defeat them!"

Lambert stood quietly to the side, nodding quietly as he watched the scene before him.

He once led these knights in training on the martial field, guiding them to swing swords, charge, fall, and rise again, time and again.

He had seen them doubt, waver, and also seen them bleed, persevere.

But now they were like unsheathed blades, their fighting spirit swelling like a tide.

Not a single one shrank back.

Not because they weren't afraid of the Nest, but because — the person standing on the high platform was Louis.

Their Lord, their Sun.

The man who had led them to victory time and again.

Now he said, "We are ready."

So, they believed him.

They believed every word he said, every decision he made, even if an abyss lay ahead, they were willing to follow him in a leap.

These knights, tempered by iron and fire, had silently carved this belief into their very bones.

Gale winds rose again, the war flags flapping loudly.

The knights knelt on one knee, plunging their weapons into the ground heavily, responding to their lord with pre-battle oaths:

"For the Red Tide! For Lord Louis!"

......

Three hours flew by in an instant.

Just as the morning wind still lingered on the edge of the valley.

"——Buzz!!!"

The Cold Iron resonance pillars began to hum.

It was a sound like metal tearing through the air, low but piercing, like the tolling of a death knell, carrying oppression from deep beneath the ground.

Louis abruptly turned his head, his gaze like an arrow shooting towards the mountain path direction.

No small scout force.

He listened for just a moment, then concluded — a large-scale insect corpse force was approaching!

The rapid frequency of vibrations and the incessant buzzing indicated a substantial enemy army, moving very swiftly, with pressure on both the surface and underground.

Lambert, beside him, said, "Both the primary and secondary paths are resonating, the scale is larger than anticipated."

"I know." Louis's gaze was calm, "This is the Nest probing from the front, also... giving us a chance."

The buzzing had not even faded when the entire Red Tide Army camp was already in motion.

"The insect corpse is coming!" said one knight.

"Perfect timing." Another old knight sneered, pressing down his visor.

No knight hesitated; they had already been ignited during the previous speech, and hearing this resonance was like kindling bursting into flames.

Some mounted their horses, some hefted flamethrowers, some ran towards the detonation cord at the edge of the trap...

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