Dionysius Spencer stood on the observation deck of the command room, gazing at the distant horizon where the faint lights of the enemy camp flickered, and he calmly spoke:
"Begin."
The voice was not loud, yet through the array spread throughout the entire camp, it reached every Wizard's ear clearly.
There was no impassioned pre-battle mobilization, no rousing slogans.
Just one word.
But everyone understood the weight of this word.
The defense line composed of Elemental Creatures, Mechanical Bodies, and summoned cannon fodder units surged out from the camp like a tide, spreading layer by layer at the outermost defensive circle.
Under the command of the Wizards, they silently formed into arrays, prepared for the inevitable onslaught.
Meanwhile, within the camp, in every fortress, each Wizard was in position.
