Whoosh—
A fierce gust of wind blew in, causing the small cabin’s window to creak miserably.
The faint, flickering candlelight struggled for a moment before being snuffed out by the wind, plunging the room into complete darkness.
Phil’s body tensed up briefly. She put down her sewing, her hand fumbling on the table for the flint.
Carelessly, the stone hit her toe, and then rolled somewhere out of reach.
“Ouch!”
Phil grimaced in pain.
With no other choice, she crouched down to search the floor. The room was pitch black, nothing visible to the naked eye.
She groped around painstakingly for quite a while when suddenly a faint glimmer of light appeared before her eyes.
Following the source of the light, she saw two moving shadows through the crack of the wooden window.
Soon after, the voice of Honghou, captain of the rebel squad, came through.
“How could this be?! They… they haven’t come back at all?”
“No… no, we failed. We… we’re all defeated.”
The reply came from another voice Phil didn’t recognize.
Phil stood up, curiosity piqued, and pushed open the window.
Outside stood several men, and opposite them was a pale-faced unfamiliar woman.
“Captain, what happened?”
“Phil, you’re just in time. We’re holding a meeting,” the captain said grimly as he beckoned her over. “I’ve already notified everyone. Gather immediately at the clearing by the village entrance.”
Judging from the captain’s tone, Phil felt an ominous premonition.
Without hesitation, she threw open the door and ran toward the clearing as ordered.
One by one, people gathered.
A few children yawned while their mothers held their hands nearby.
The group sat down around the roaring bonfire.
Standing in the center was the unfamiliar woman Phil had just seen.
It turned out that this woman was the wife of another rebel leader.
After her entire unit was captured, she had barely escaped and had been traveling to their location, seeking refuge.
Along with her came some of the surviving rebels from her group.
“So…” the captain sat cross-legged, face heavy with worry, “are we truly the last ones left?”
The woman nodded faintly, then began to sob uncontrollably, burying her face in her hands.
Her cries spread across the silent night, weighing heavily on everyone’s hearts.
Against the count’s cavalry, the rebels not only lacked equipment but were also overwhelmingly outnumbered.
Because of this, the captain originally planned to send messengers to form an alliance with other spontaneous rebel groups to strengthen their forces.
However, these farmers, who had lived off the land all their lives, were no match for the seasoned count’s troops.
Other rebel groups either disbanded quickly due to loose discipline and unstable morale or suffered heavy casualties in direct clashes with the cavalry.
As of now, the once formidable uprising had been steadily dwindling.
Phil’s rebel squad was considered mid-sized among all human rebel groups, with about a hundred members.
Of these, 60% were combat-capable fighters, and the remaining 40% were support personnel.
Their relatively organized structure and strong cohesion, coupled with familiarity of the local terrain, had allowed them to endure until now.
But if things continued like this, even their last force would not hold out much longer…
“Are we… really out of options?” The captain stood up, his burly frame casting a shadow in the firelight.
His brows furrowed deeply as he looked at everyone seated, “Is it truly impossible for humans to resist those vampires any longer?”
As his heavy words fell, the bonfire’s glow seemed to dim.
The light flickered across his resolute yet sorrow-filled face, adding a layer of tragic grandeur.
The air around them seemed to freeze, broken only by the crackling of the flames—a sharp contrast in the quiet night.
People exchanged glances, eyes reflecting complex emotions—sadness, despair, and an overwhelming sense of helplessness and unwillingness.
Their gazes gradually lost their usual sparkle, replaced by emptiness and confusion.
At that moment, a dark-skinned man stood up.
His voice was not loud, but it pierced the pervasive despair in the darkness.
“Everyone, I have a proposal,” he said firmly.
“Since uniting with other rebel groups is no longer an option, why don’t we look further ahead?
“Ansels is currently engaged in a conflict with the Valivadan Witch Tribe.
Why not seek cooperation from them?
“As the old saying goes, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.
The Valivadan people are the same race as us, sharing the same blood.
I believe they would be willing to join hands with us to resist the vampires that oppress us.”
His words rang clear and forceful.
Each syllable struck like a hammer on every heart, stirring ripples of hope.
People began to murmur among themselves, a faint spark rekindling as they glimpsed a dawn that might break their stalemate.
“Well said! Humans should help each other!”
“Damn right! Humans never surrender down with those vampires!”
The captain’s eyes flickered with approval and deep thought at these words.
He slowly walked over to the man who had spoken, patting his shoulder in affirmation.
“You’re right, brother.
At this critical juncture of life and death, we can’t afford to isolate ourselves.
We must broaden our horizons and seek every possible ally.
Valivadan may just be the key to our turnaround.”
Then his tone shifted.
“But that country is so far away.
How are we supposed to negotiate with them?”
The dark-skinned man patted his chest resolutely.
“Let me go, Captain!”
His eyes reflected a burning fire, voice resolute.
“If you’re willing to give me our only Earth Dragon, I will travel day and night to Valivadan and bring back good news.”
The captain pondered for a moment.
Looking around at the emotionally charged comrades, he then fixed his gaze on the young man.
This man was a core member of the rebel squad, someone he trusted deeply after years of close cooperation.
In the end, he agreed to the proposal.
Without delay, the squad’s only massive Earth Dragon was carefully equipped with a saddle.
Its entire body was covered in tough scales, gleaming coldly under the moonlight.
Under the cover of the deep night, the dark-skinned man lightly leapt, steadying himself on the Earth Dragon’s back.
He turned to look back at the group by the bonfire, raising his hand in a wave.
“Take care!”
The crowd called out to him in return.
With a deafening roar, the Earth Dragon leapt into the air.
Its four hooves thundered down as it became a shadow flashing through dense forest and mountain valleys, speeding toward Valivadan.
The man’s silhouette gradually vanished into the night.
The cheers from the crowd had not yet died down when Phil heard a faint sound nearby.
She turned to see an Old Woman with white hair, leaning on a cane.
Her eyes were clear yet she looked somewhat dazed.
“Zongran is really going to seek help from the Witch Tribe…” the Old Woman murmured to herself, sighing deeply.
“That group of witches… they’re even scarier than the vampires.”