"Report!"
"Your Majesty, Nikol City has fallen, and they request reinforcements!"
As the Pyrothrone King was discussing strategies to counter Owen's army with his four god-tier generals, a royal guard rushed in, kneeling with a grave expression.
The Pyrothrone King's brow furrowed. He remembered receiving news not long ago that Owen's army had only just arrived at Nikol City. How could this centuries-old stronghold have been breached so quickly?
"It's just a border city. Let him enjoy his victory for now!"
Suppressing his rage, the Pyrothrone King was about to continue his discussions with the generals when another royal guard hurried in, kneeling.
"Your Majesty, the northernmost city, Ilor, has been taken by the Fallen Angel race. Treyn City requests aid!"
The Pyrothrone King's heart sank—another city had fallen?
Just as he was reeling from this, yet another guard rushed in with an anxious expression:
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
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