Lyra strode toward Brandon with measured steps, her tall military boots emphasizing her long, straight legs. Her gait was steady, powerful, exuding an aura of authority and dominance. Her approach, coupled with a simmering anger, immediately drew the attention of the crowd. Leaders from the other eight military regions turned their heads to observe the scene.
Lyra was the only woman among the competing districts’ major generals. Being the daughter of General Nate of the Dragon Cavalry added to her prestige, ensuring that no one dared to underestimate her. But Lyra was far from a mere figurehead. She was a Semi Greater Sovereign and ranked fourth on the Dragon Ranking.
Though her rank was just below Vicente Clark, everyone knew that Lyra’s accomplishments carried far more weight. She was an Adept-a rarity-achieving her status through relentless daily training without relying on any external aids or supplements. This level of achievement was considered extraordinary, especially since women often faced significantly greater challenges in cultivating their martial prowess.
Lyra’s path had been grueling, her struggles many times harder than those of her male counterparts. Even without her father’s influence, Lyra’s strength and discipline commanded universal respect. Among the fifty-plus War Gods of the North, she was among the top in rank, ahead of even Cruz Brooks.
Her elite force, the Black Phoenix, consisting of 80, 000 women, was renowned across the land. It was the only all-female military unit in Ostrad, comprised of exceptional warriors selected from across the regions. Their beauty was matched only by their valor, and their imposing presence rivaled that of any male-dominated army.
Last year, during the grand military competition, a hundred soldiers from the Black Phoenix were sent to compete. They secured third place overall, trailing only the Dragon Cavalry’s Flame Dragon unit and the Valor Legion’s Havoc Strikeforce. The Black Phoenix’s performance earned direct recognition from the Eahta military headquarters, and the Imperial Center itself praised them in writing:
“Women of courage and gallantry, heroic and radiant, earning the admiration of even the strongest warriors.”
The Black Phoenix lived up to their reputation. For the first time in Ostrad’s military history, two units under the command of a father and daughter-Nate and Lyra-both ranked within the top three. The feat was unprecedented, a record that stood as a testament to their legacy. The military world of Ostrad hailed Lyra as the “Dominant Crimson Rose” and the “Dragon Slayer Rose.”
Soldiers looked up to her with reverence, while War Gods, Heavenly Kings, and even military legends expressed their admiration for her. Yet Lyra had never shown interest in any of them. Few knew the reason behind her indifference, but Yves Yancey understood it well.
Lyra’s heart already belonged to someone-her mentor, Flynn. However, Flynn did not reciprocate her feelings. In fact, to avoid her, he had left Demon Island an hour earlier than planned. This rejection left Lyra frustrated for three months, her mood sour, and her patience thin. Hearing the noisy chatter from The Edge special forces unit only added to her irritation.
But before Lyra could reach Brandon, Talon Emberhart stepped in ahead of her.
“Is this the level of discipline in The Edge special forces?” Talon Emberhart’s cold gaze fixed on Brandon as he spoke, his tone carrying a faint chill.
The members of The Edge special forces shifted their attention from their screens to the elderly man who had appeared before them. Their smiles froze, replaced by expressions of unease.
The old man wore a black silk robe that shimmered faintly with golden dragon embroidery, a string of jade beads hanging from his collar. His tall, commanding presence radiated an overwhelming sense of authority, like an unshakable mountain. His piercing eyes, cold as frost, swept over the group, sending a chill through their hearts and freezing their very souls.
Even Clayton Robinson, a Great Grandmaster, felt as though two massive mountains had been placed on his shoulders, making it hard to breathe.
What a terrifying aura-like an ocean surging, a mountain collapsing.
But who was he?
Even Brandon was stunned, unable to process what was happening. Their ranks were too low, and coming from an ordinary military district, they had no exposure to figures like this. The gap between them and the northern military districts was immense. None of them had ever seen the Archon of the Dragonguard.
The Dragonguard was Ostrad’s highest authority, directly under the ruler’s command.
Even without knowing his identity, The Edge soldiers could feel the weight of his presence. Brandon instinctively lowered his phone, unsure how to respond. The truth was, they had been too loud earlier.
“Mr. Pearce,” came a voice. It was Mr. Davies, from the Shipmeda State Military Region, who walked over and introduced the man. “This is Mr. Talon Emberhart, the Archon of the Dragonguard. He will be overseeing today’s military competition.”
Dragonguard.
The Edge team immediately fell silent, their unease growing.
Yet lingering tension remained. Mr. Davies had a history of conflict with Talon Emberhart, having once rejected a marriage proposal from his camp. Moreover, they were on opposing political sides.
“Mr. Davies,” Talon Emberhart’s voice cut through the silence, “are these the soldiers you’ve trained? Look around-do you see any other military districts being this noisy?”
Adam Davies, however, remained composed, replying calmly, “Mr. Archon, didn’t you just instruct everyone to rest and relax in preparation for the upcoming exercise?”
“If that’s the case, then my men chatting with the chief instructor shouldn’t be an issue.”
“The chief instructor?” Talon Emberhart raised an eyebrow slightly, his voice tinged with sarcasm. “Did I mention anything about noise?”
“Listen to what your soldiers were saying earlier-‘absolute victory,’ ‘witnessing glory together.'”
“The exercises haven’t even started, yet they’re already so arrogant and conceited. That is a cardinal sin in the military!”
Adam Davies smiled faintly. “Mr. Archon, my soldiers aren’t conceited-they’re confident.”
Confident?
For the first time, the usually stoic Talon Emberhart let out a laugh.
Confidence from a team that had ranked last for three consecutive years? A team whose best result in the past decade was sixth place?
Even Lyra, who had just approached, frowned.
Lyra was familiar with Adam Davies. As an ally of her father, Nate, she had always seen him as a humble and refined individual. But today, something seemed off.
In Lyra’s opinion, if any of the top ten military districts had earned the right to act arrogantly, it certainly wasn’t The Edge.
Other military leaders, including Thorne Callister of the Flame Dragon special forces, had also gathered around. Though they said nothing, their expressions betrayed their disapproval.
Thorne Callister was from the Haralu Shawford Military District, under Nate’s jurisdiction. For four consecutive years, he had led the Flame Dragon unit to first place in the district rankings. His soldiers were formidable, monstrous in their abilities.
This year, to strengthen their chances of claiming the Steel Battalion honors, Thorne had brought in a Semi Greater Sovereign as an instructor. After two months of intense training, the Flame Dragon unit produced one Great Grandmaster and over ten Grandmasters.
If anyone had the right to claim confidence, it was the soldiers of the Flame Dragon unit. Their abilities spoke for themselves.
Even so, they remained focused, quietly rehearsing their final drills.
But The Edge? They had no foundation, no track record. Instead of staying in the corner as sparring partners, they chose this moment to draw attention to themselves with talk of “absolute victory” and “glory.”
Where did that leave the Flame Dragon unit?
Although Thorne Callister held disdain for Adam Davies, he kept it to himself. However, Raven Stormbringer, leader of the Valor Legion, was less reserved.
“Mr. Davies,” Raven said with a smirk, “I’ve reviewed the chief instructor profiles of all the districts, but I couldn’t find any record for The Edge. Your instructor hasn’t shown up today either-keeping things mysterious, are we?”
Pausing for effect, he added, “But I did hear some rumors. They say you couldn’t find a suitable instructor this year and had to settle for a Semi Grandmaster. Is that true?”
“Oh, and isn’t this instructor under thirty? A local from Niarak, no less.”
“Mr. Davies, you’ve piqued our curiosity. Stop hiding like a shy bride and introduce your instructor to us!”
Raven’s tone was mocking, his words deliberate. As an ally of Talon Emberhart and a friend of Mike Clark, he seized the opportunity to ridicule Adam Davies, turning the moment into entertainment for the gathered crowd.