Desolate and stirring incantations echoed through the dim space, as the rustling wind began to stir the tattered, blood-stained banners, as if the deceased ghosts were lingering here, whispering in the wind.
The continuous sounds of battle on the horizon became distant and boundless, like strange echoes from across time and space.
The incantations gradually became low and solemn.
"Silver and stone, make a pact with the cornerstone,"
"The sighing wind is blocked by strong walls, firmly casting the four gates,"
"Released in the Holy Temple, descending upon the path to the Empire,"
"Summoned hereby,"
"Your body resides under the Emperor's command, our fate rests on the Heroic Spirit's blade,"
"If you are willing to be summoned by the Heroic Spirit, obey this will, conform to this principle, then come forth!"
The pale-faced mages, their tattered robes fluttering, their worn staffs steadily outputting gushing magical power, used the power of incantation to blow the sighing wind into the distance.
Standing before these casters were tall, crude Golems, cast from rock and iron, with flat faces, only eyes and mouths.
Their structure was simple, with only flexible limbs and nothing else.
The tall figure of Gilinis, the former Imperial Guard, stood in the shadows, leaning against a wall made of stacked rocks, the rough surface a deep dark red, like dried blood.
If he raised his head, he could see the silent, motionless earthly body of Black Dragon King Rosani, hundreds of meters long, in the sky.
Like a statue sculpted from mud, it spread its claws and teeth, extended its wings, hovering over the entire city, its dragon head held high, looking towards the distant horizon.
Gilinis was as silent as the Black Dragon's statue, watching the sighing wind sweep over the dismembered, broken bodies of his fallen comrades lying on the ground, over the shattered armor and cracked, broken greatswords of the legion warriors, over the cloaks completely stained black-red with blood.
The dismembered limbs, shattered armor, and cracked, broken greatswords salvaged from the battlefield carried the beliefs of those powerful warriors, the last echoes of their demise remaining in the world.
In the sighing wind, the last shouts and roars of the warriors at the moment of their death were carried far away, drifting over the ruined city with its scattered lights under the shroud of shadows, over the sacred and solemn grand cathedral, and over countless households.
It passed over the war-torn front lines and arrived at the dark land.
Here, corpses lay everywhere; as far as the eye could see, countless demon corpses were piled like a carpet, forming tower-like mountains, with grotesque, bizarre heads severed and soaking in still-undried, foul-smelling blood.
The Long Summer Land, once lush with grass and fertile soil, had long been contaminated by the putrid blood of demons, turning into a barren wasteland where not a blade of grass grew.
Even the earth, skilled at absorbing blood, could not bear this boundless sea of corpses and blood. Beneath the pervasive corpses, thick blood had already congealed into clumps covering the soil, causing the upper layer of blood to accumulate day after day, spreading to the surrounding land.
There were also numerous colossal Wyverns, tens to hundreds of meters in size, lying on this battlefield. Although the incomplete bodies of the deceased Wyverns were still massive, they were as insignificant as a drop in the ocean amidst this boundless sea of corpses and blood.
Amidst countless low-level demon corpses, almost submerged under a tattered, blood-stained Dragon King banner, lay fallen warriors of the 'Burning Hoof' Legion and warriors from this world.
Each of these Burning Hoof warriors fell on the path of charge. They did not fall under the claws and weapons of demons, but under their own broken weapons, damaged armor, and exhausted strength.
Before the fallen body of every Burning Hoof warrior, hundreds of low-level demons lay dead, along with many mid-level demons, and even some high-level demon corpses mixed among them.
The resentments of these deceased demons howled in the sea of corpses and blood, but they dared not approach the heroic spirits of the legion warriors who lingered before their broken bodies.
The souls of these heroic spirits maintained their battle-ready appearance from life, blood-stained and broken armor covering their bodies, shattered greatswords still clutched by the heroic spirits, vast wings like those of demons, devils, and dragons spread wide, with countless blood threads and phantom fragments of flesh hanging from their damaged wings.
And anima, the power derived from soul and spirituality, sustained the last flicker of unextinguished will of these Dragon Heroic Spirit warriors, allowing them to linger on this battlefield where wails and resentments formed dark clouds soaring into the sky, refusing to leave, as if waiting, as if guarding.
They did not know where to go, but they stubbornly guarded before this broken royal banner, repelling all vengeful spirits and shattering all encroaching ghosts.
Until the sighing wind from afar swept across this land, stirring the fluttering royal banner of the Dragon.
The royal banner flapped loudly, like a trumpet sounding, and the roars and echoes brought by the sighing wind brushed over the bodies of the fallen warriors, gently lingering around the souls of these warriors, guiding them to their destined direction.
One by one, the still-confused and wandering souls raised their heads, their memories from life returning, the shadow of death brushed away, bringing back the will of days past.
So the souls, guided by the sighing wind, drifted towards that predetermined direction.
Thus, in the dim space, the whispers of countless ghosts vanished, as if in fear.
But the expressionless stone and steel Golems suddenly became animated; souls from distant battlefields took residence within them, and the Golems' eyes continuously opened, radiating dazzling light and an indomitable fighting spirit.
Then the Golems, with arms forged of rock and steel, pounded their chests, emitting a deafening sound,
"Warriors of the Empire, the blades of our Lord, answer the call!"
The mages, dragging their weary bodies, abandoned their caster's arrogance and sincerely saluted these warriors with the Golden Empire's military salute.
"Loyal heroes, welcome back!"
Gilinis's resolute face, hidden in the darkness, was also moved. He stepped out of the darkness and approached these Golems.
This former Imperial Guard, now a legion commander, wore a set of magically-activated heavy armor crafted from the hard mountain steel and magic alloys of the Ekania World, which bore countless scratches and marks from claws, swords, spears, and halberds.
The heavy armor near his heart, where the dragon emblem was worn on his chest, was even caved in, and the self-healing magic alloy's slow healing ability had not been able to completely restore the appearance of this heavy armor.
And the dragon-faced helmet, the symbol of a legion commander and Imperial Guard, had long been split and was now held in the hands of this tall warrior.
His meticulously groomed thick black hair and dense but well-managed short beard indicated the warrior's character. Although time had left a few almost imperceptible marks on his face, the fine lines around his eyes and his clear, deep red eyes gave this warrior a unique charm.
"Lord Gilinis, you're still alive, that's great!"
When Gilinis stepped out, the heroic spirits in the Golem Legion also responded enthusiastically, stepping forward one by one and pounding the warrior's chest, a warrior taller than even the three-meter-high Golems, causing Gilinis to stumble back two steps.
There was no other reason; all the warriors knew Gilinis and respected him as they respected the legion commander, Sahar.
This was not because of Gilinis's status as a legion commander and Imperial Guard, but because of his strength and bravery.
In the first few years of the Golden Empire's initial arrival, Rosani led the Golden Empire's legions to sweep away the gloom brought by the Plane Gods, campaigning from north to south, conquering the entire Essos, and establishing a powerful vassal kingdom.
Although the followers of Rhllor, adhering to the will of the god they served, caused trouble everywhere.
But under the secret purge by Sakaruo, a Red Priest who had rebelled against Rhllor, and the former Red Priestess Nalia, the Red God cult that worshipped Rhllor was also completely swept away from the entire continent by the Golden Empire's forces.
By then, the Golden Empire had deeply rooted itself in this world. All Free Cities also obediently submitted under the power of Dragons and Demonic Dragons. The Empire's legions commanded respect everywhere, preparing to expand to other continents.
But from the distant North of the Westeros, the Cold God, who had always secretly opposed Rhllor, rose, his power surging to an unprecedented level. The Cold God's followers blew the lost magic horn, causing the Northern Wall to collapse.
The King of the Others, a minion of the Cold God's power, led his dormant army of Others, beginning their southward march from the North.
With the Cold God's power unprecedentedly surging, the combined might of the entire Westeroswas insufficient to resist this minion of the Cold God—the King of the Others.
The civilizations and cities established by the First Men and the Andals were completely destroyed by the army of the dead led by the King of the Others. Countless people perished in this disaster, and their deceased bodies and souls found no peace, being transformed into an army of the dead by the King of the Others.
The entire Westeros fell into the hands of the Others, except for some living beings in remote corners and many refugees who fled to the Golden Empire. All other life was transformed into servants of the Cold God by the King of the Others.
The King of the Others led the army of the dead, transformed from the living beings of the entire continent, turning the sea into ice and crossing the strait, preparing to sweep away these invaders who occupied the world for his god.
However, although Essos had its magical and magical power source nodes destroyed by Rhllor, gradually turning into a magical desert, the strength of the Golden Empire's legion warriors and casters exceeded the imagination of these native beings.
When hundreds of Wyverns were simultaneously controlled to ascend into the sky, attacking alongside the Golden Empire's legion warriors, the King of the Others, whom mortal weapons could not destroy or damage, was also crushed to dust by Rosani's venomous fire and claws.
All the armies of the dead were completely destroyed by the Golden Empire's legions in one battle. On the world, no one could any longer resist the Empire's military might.
But the Plane Gods opened Pandora's Box, releasing the world's barriers.
The passage leading to a certain demon plane, which existed in the shadow lands of Asshai, was actually opened by these Plane Gods themselves, and thus destruction and war once again descended upon this world.
The other continents, still rich in magical power, were originally within Dragon King Rosani's conquest plans.
But when the Empire's warriors discovered that countless demons began to enter this world, the intelligent Rosani decisively abandoned his goal and contracted the entire Empire's forces to the vicinity of the Valyria Peninsula, where the flames had subsided.
In other places, with abundant magical power, although the Imperial legions did not fear these demons, the native warriors of this world could not resist the overwhelming demons.
Only in this magic-barren region did the people of this world have a chance to face those demons head-on, and only in this way could the Golden Empire's strength be maximized and preserved.
However, although the Dragon King Rosani's idea was very clever, both the Black Dragon and the Golden Empire underestimated the number of those demons.
No one could count how many demons poured into this world through the planar passage; like locusts, no matter how many demons died, more would emerge from the other side of the passage.
So, after research, the Empire's caster legion proposed an idea that could be called fantastical.
From the Knowledge Fortress, which preserved the knowledge of the Ancient Magic Empire, there was an analysis and a fragmented version of a spell left by a mysterious and powerful ancient mage.
It is said that this mage once challenged gods with this forbidden spell, aiming to strip them of their authority and divinity, though the specific details are unknown.
But the Empire's mage legion used this spell's model as a reference and modified it, allowing the Dragon King Rosani, who had obtained the secondary authority of the Ancestral Red Dragon's spirituality,
To use the perfect carrying capacity of Dragons, employ this modified 'God-Stripping Spell,' and through the re-excavated Fourteen Fire Peaks, a source node of magical power, contend with Rhllor, the Plane God, for the world's primordial authority and control over the plane.
In order to completely close the passage to the demon plane and then re-establish a hyper-dimensional beacon connecting the Golden Empire's homeland to the Ekania World.
Thus, the Dragon King Rosani transformed back into the elemental earthly body shrouding the city of Valyria, and with the help of the Empire's high-ranking caster legion, began a daily, silent confrontation with Rhllor.
Under the protection of the Dragon King Rosani, within the city of Valyria, wherever Rosani was present, he could replenish himself by utilizing the magical power overflowing from the world's origin.
It is also because of this advantage that the Golden Empire has been able to hold out for countless years in this world against the innumerable demons.
But the Empire's lords and high-ranking casters were trapped in the struggle with the gods, and thus the Empire's safety rested entirely in the hands of the legion warriors.
And Gilinis was one of the finest among the Empire's legion warriors, a tempered divine blade.
This powerful warrior and wise legion commander, in peacetime, spread the Emperor's ideology, gentle and calm, but on the battlefield, he was like a bloodthirsty Dragon.
In every battle, he, like Sahar, charged at the forefront. Countless low-level demons died under his heavy hammer, and over a thousand mid-level demons were beheaded by this warrior, then piled into a mound of enemy heads to deter the demons.
And the high-level demons who died at Gilinis's hands had long exceeded the count of both hands.
Therefore, the respect these heroic spirits held for Gilinis stemmed from his formidable strength and courage.
But Gilinis was not arrogant because of these honors and his own strength; he deeply knew that although the heroic spirits of these Imperial heroes could reside within Golems, if the Golems were shattered again, it would also consume the essence of their souls.
Without the Dragon's Holy Temple's protection and nurturing of souls, after several such repetitions, these loyal warriors would completely dissipate, leaving no trace in this world.
Therefore, Gilinis's respect for these warriors was as great as their respect for him.
A faint smile appeared on his resolute face, and he chuckled softly: "Yes, I am still alive because of the sacrifices of you brave warriors!"
"Why are you talking to us with such bullshit,"
A Golem said in a muffled voice, yet a bold and hearty aura emanated from its stony body.
"We never feared this outcome, we only regret that we still cannot perceive the will of our Lord. Perhaps we will never see the Empire again. I just want to see what the Empire looks like now."
"I also wish to return to the Dragon's Holy Temple, towering above the mountains, and drink heartily with my old comrades, sharing peace!"
Gilinis fell silent for a moment upon hearing this.
The continuous war had long caused the image of the Empire in these warriors' minds to fade, but deep in their minds, memories of the Empire coalesced into the word "beautiful."
However, the current situation in this world is not optimistic. After losing countless low and mid-level demons, as well as a large number of high-level demons,
The war in this world attracted the attention of a Great Demon, who has now crossed worlds to arrive.
Even Gilinis himself was not confident that he would survive the upcoming war.
The words of these warrior heroic spirits made Gilinis's eyes sting. He quickly raised his head, looked at the massive Black Dragon's body, and softly said: "There will be a day when we see the Empire again, as long as we persevere. Kogmora's promise never changes!"