Set up camp

At noon, the army finally reached the foot of the Celestoria Mountains.

Father Raphael chose an open area with good visibility to set up camp.

Nearby, a clear stream flowed gently, providing ample water for the camp.

Under the instructions of the commanders, the soldiers busied themselves with setting up tents.

Meanwhile, inside the command tent of the main camp, the five priests gathered once again.

Father Carsey, Father Weiss, Father Phillips, Father Thomas, and Father Raphael stood before a makeshift sand table, their expressions serious.

The sand table displayed the terrain of the Celestoria Mountains, with areas marked where beasts were known to roam, as well as the location of their camp.

Father Carsey frowned, his finger lightly tracing the markings on the sand table, his voice tinged with concern.

"The magic beasts may use the mountains for ambushes, so we must be prepared on all fronts. And as for their numbers, we have no reliable intelligence."

Father Weiss nodded solemnly.

"While the scouts brought back some information, the terrain of the Celestoria Mountains is complex.

No one knows exactly how many magic beasts are hidden in there."

Father Thomas, deep in thought, added, "Perhaps we can send out small teams to scout the outer areas of the mountains again and confirm the scale and distribution of the magic beasts.

It's risky, but it's the only way to gather more intelligence."

After much discussion, the five priests decided to dispatch more scouts for reconnaissance.

Despite the dangers, it was the only way to obtain crucial information.

Without accurate intelligence, every step they took could lead them into a trap, given the treacherous terrain and the unknown number of magic beasts.

"The main roads are absolutely off-limits; they are likely already occupied by the magic beasts.

As for the smaller paths, we don't know how many traps might be waiting for us," Father Raphael said thoughtfully.

Father Phillips nodded in agreement.

"The Celestoria Mountains are like a dark fog for us.

Every step we take is a blind guess, while the enemy watches us from above, waiting for us to make a mistake."

The camp buzzed with activity as the soldiers began setting up defenses.

To prepare for possible beast attacks, they started digging deep trenches to prevent the beasts from charging directly into the camp.

The trenches were about two meters deep and nearly a meter wide, designed to trap most beasts trying to attack.

Soldiers dug around the perimeter of the camp, ensuring that each section of the trench was connected, forming a complete defensive line.

Sharp wooden stakes were placed at the bottom of the trenches, freshly cut from trees, sharp and sturdy.

Any beast trying to cross would likely get trapped or severely injured by these spikes.

To enhance the defenses, soldiers evenly spaced rows of stakes throughout the trench, ensuring that no matter where a beast attacked from, it would not be easy to breach.

At the same time, other soldiers were cutting down nearby trees to quickly process the wood into barriers.

The barriers, about three meters tall, were erected on the inner side of the trenches.

Wooden posts were driven deep into the ground, firmly rooted, with horizontal beams tightly connecting them to ensure stability.

These barriers not only blocked beast attacks but also provided cover for the soldiers, allowing archers to attack from above.

Borne and his nine companions, following Captain Kha'Zik's orders, joined the trench-digging efforts.

Armed with shovels, sweat dripped down their faces as they labored tirelessly, silently enduring the exhaustion.

"Deeper, wider.

The trenches need to be strong enough to ensure the magic beasts can't easily break through," Captain Khazik commanded.

Harley, panting and covered in dirt, asked while shoveling, "Will these trenches really hold back those magic beasts?"

Victor shook his head and sighed, "Better to have them than not."

The soldiers continued chopping down trees and building sturdy wooden barriers, the stakes laid out in layers, making the camp look like it was surrounded by sharp teeth.

That night, almost no one in the camp rested.

The soldiers worked anxiously, their sweat mixing with the dirt.

Torches were lit en masse, illuminating every corner of the camp, with the flickering flames resembling rivers of fire flowing through the darkness.

Officers holding torches patrolled the camp, sternly supervising the progress of the defenses.

At each section, they stopped to carefully inspect the depth of the trenches, ensuring every detail met expectations.

"Speed it up!" one officer shouted, raising his torch high.

The soldiers quickened their pace.

The sound of shovels scraping the earth was rhythmic, mingling with the noise of axes chopping trees and the construction of wooden barriers.

The torchlight illuminated the weary faces of the soldiers, but no one dared to complain.

Borne and his nine companions didn't pause for a moment either.

Their hands were blistered from the shovels, but no one slowed down.

Lucius wiped the sweat from his face, panting as he asked, "When do we get a break?"

Captain Khazik glanced back and replied calmly, "When the defenses are complete."

Lucius smiled wryly at this, gripping his shovel and returning to work.

"Who would've thought digging trenches would be tougher than fighting?"

Victor forced a faint smile, his tone laced with exhaustion.

Harley joked beside him, "Maybe the magic beasts will get scared away when they see us working so hard on these defenses."

They lost track of how long they'd been digging, but when the first light of dawn broke through the night sky, they finally had a brief moment to rest.

The soldiers, their bodies exhausted, collapsed to the ground the moment the officers gave the order.

Borne, too tired to care, sat down in the trench, leaning on his shovel.

His eyelids were so heavy that he could barely keep them open.

Without bothering to find a more comfortable spot, he closed his eyes, falling into a deep sleep within seconds.

Next to him, Heywood slumped on the other side of the trench, still clutching his shovel tightly.

Dalton lay flat on the ground, eyes closed, his breathing deep and steady, clearly too tired to think.

The other soldiers were in similar states—some leaned against dirt mounds and fell asleep, while others lay face-down on the ground, their faces and clothes covered in mud, but no one cared.

The entire camp fell into a sudden quiet, the once-busy area now filled with the sound of exhausted soldiers and their heavy breathing.