The riverside jungle to the west of the city is damp and complex, and the internal passages are fragmented and intermittent, and only the natives and wild animals know how to walk in such a narrow and gloomy environment.

But as the troops of Port Harrison advanced, all the jungles along the way were cut down and burned, and in just two months, there was no shadow of a forest in the area of ten miles above and below the Iwok River, and even the wooden stakes were corroded and rotted with alchemy.

Soil erosion is a matter of the future, and in the war tense, even if Viscount Grant loses his mind and goes crazy, it is absolutely impossible to leave the possibility of Tu borrowing the jungle terrain to sneak attack him.

And it was this empty vision that made Viscount Grant, who was still on the front line, aware of the sudden storm in the distance at the first time.

"It's actually this time?!"

Looking up at the torrential rain that had already begun to fall, the stunned Viscount Grant knew that according to various information along the coast, the great storm should have occurred sometime in September or October...... But theoretically, there should be some signs before the storm comes!

For example, extremely high rain clouds, too bright sunsets, abnormal monsoons - natural disasters on the continent of Terra are frequent, and similar signs have long been summarized in a manual, and Viscount Grant, as the lord of a land, has memorized this very well.

But recently, none of this has happened, so he dared to lead the team to intercept the actions of a main force of the indigenous people to destroy the official road.

The city of Port Harrison is not the only one in the entire Southridge Province, on the north side, there are two large cities, the city of Three Rivers and the provincial capital of Nauman, and in the northwestern mountains, there are also several indigenous tribes and hill communities that have been subordinated to the empire - the mercenary leader of the port, Lübeck, is the warrior of the hill people.

Harrison Harbor, as the front line of the battle against the natives of the Great Redwoods of the Southridge Forest, blocked most of the pressure, so when it became known that the war had begun, a steady stream of caravans of support came along the official routes of the Empire to provide supplies.

Even, even the imperial capital knew this, and the aid caravan that was about to set off added a batch of combat materials and sublimation materials.

With the entire empire on its back, even if a considerable part of these support supplies will definitely be embezzled and lost in the middle, it is better than the natives who have no supplies at all, right?

The indigenous side is not unaware of this truth, so in the past half month, they have been harassing the official road.

Either attacking scattered small caravans, or directly digging up the roadbed and pushing large boulders to block the road, all in all, it will definitely not allow Harrison Port reinforcements to arrive comfortably.

Even, today they were desperate to blow up a mountain cliff and completely block a pass, but fortunately, Viscount Grant had expected it and personally led the team to intercept the indigenous team carrying a large amount of crystal sand explosives.

But in fact, this is nothing more than a blow to the west - according to the information just interrogated, the large army of the natives has already crossed the pass and is heading towards a supply transit town between Trois-Rivières and Port Harrison in the north.

They're going to completely destroy the transit town and cut off all support from Port Harrison.

"Do you want to go back now?"

On the other side, Elder Pude, who was wearing battle armor, asked, and the white-haired old man's voice passed through the helmet and the rain curtain, looking a little urn-like: "In the event of a natural disaster, those natives will definitely not be able to continue to attack, looking at the speed of the rain clouds, we will not look back now, we will have to camp directly to resist the storm." ”

"Of course. Even if the natives did take down Ammore, it would hinder our supply for a month or so at most—even if there were no supplies at all, we would be able to win. ”

Viscount Grant stared at the white cloud pillar of the distant sea like mountains and cliffs, and his tone calmed down, only with a hint of doubt: "But their luck is really good, pick to launch a surprise attack today." ”

"If there is no big storm, we and the militia of Ammore Town will be caught in front and back, and the main force of the natives will be bitten no matter what, and it will be much more stable in seven or eight years."

Speaking of this, the brown-haired nobleman felt a little regretful: "I missed the opportunity to completely defeat this group of savages." ”

Now that Viscount Grant has made a decision, the troops, mainly the port guards, naturally began to retreat slowly, splitting the alchemy artillery on the position and placing it in boxes at an orderly pace.

Those blacksmiths and alchemists who have been trained by Elder Pude are quite solid, not to mention anything else.

However, just as the troops had been reorganized and ready to retreat to the city in a tight formation in the storm, Elder Pude, who had been thinking about it just now, suddenly spoke: "Is it really a coincidence? ”

Hearing the old man's words, Viscount Grant tilted his head to listen to the other party's opinion.

And the elder only used one word, and the viscount's eyes widened: "Foresee Futaba." ”

- The Sacred Tree Essence in the mouth of the indigenous Sequoia natives, it is said to be a sublimation curiosity that can temporarily predict the future direction and strengthen the spiritual vision.

The old man in armor looked at the nobleman, and Elder Pude said in a heavy tone: "Although we have never obtained it, we have always thought that it is just a legend from the mouth of the natives. ”

But what if it really exists? What if it could give a brief glimpse of the future? ”

"What if that old immortal shaman used such a strange thing to predict the moment of the coming of the great storm, so he arranged this series of plans?"

The viscount was stunned.

Indeed, no one can be entirely sure of what the future holds, and even the prophets of the major sects can see only fragments or signs of fragments.

But it's just a matter of predicting when a storm will come...... But it's not so incredible.

"Listen to orders! Stop the action! ”

With a gasp, Viscount Grant ordered the troops to stop marching.

Immediately afterward, this middle-aged man who looked to be only thirty or forty years old, the body of the second-level sublimator lit up with bright blue streamers, revolving around his body like a three-layer star ring, absorbing the water vapor from the surrounding rainstorm.

The three layers of water ring formed a rotating disc at the feet of Viscount Grant, and the water ring staggered and rubbed at high speed, producing a large amount of high-heat steam, which was rapidly sprayed downward.

Propelled by the steam, Viscount Grant's figure floated up, looking condescendingly out into the rain and forest ahead of the troops.

Then, he drew his sword and slashed it in the air.

The water vapor in the atmosphere condensed with the movement of the viscount's sword, and a translucent water blade came out, turning into a misty streamer, and slashed towards the dense forest below him.

There was a commotion, and the trees, vines, shrubs, and weeds in the forest all fell in the direction of the water blade, and the droplets of water shot in mid-air were even extremely deadly, piercing the tough leaves of the elm tree.

In the same way, all kinds of traps and methods hidden in the forest were also exposed under the effect of this blow.

Bang bang bang - a series of muffled voices sounded, and in a blink of an eye, you could see a large area of multicolored poisonous miasma rising from the dense forest, and then being blown away by the storm.

"Got a trap?!"

"When, why are there traps on our way back?!"

But all the soldiers and guards were creepy, they were elite warriors who were familiar with the methods of the natives, and naturally knew the horror of this miasma, which was a terrible toxin that could cause ulcers and emphysema even if inhaled, even if it just touched the skin!

- The road ahead is no longer possible!

"Whew...... It's really all blocked, but these toxin traps that have been exposed, if they are collected by the official shaman himself, it will take more than half a month to barely collect them. ”

Bright blue essentia flashed around his body, faintly condensing into a shape like water waves, and Viscount Grant was extremely awe-struck.

The High Ascension Bloodline 'Abyssal Lizard Whale' gives him the ability to manipulate water and steam, just as a lizard whale can obscure an island with its breath of mist, he can already control a spitting steam-powered flight at the second energy level, slashing out a water blade propelled by hot steam in the air and slashing through giant trees.

However, even he couldn't beware of all the traps along the way, and he didn't have enough essentia to keep using his sublimation skills to open a safe path.

- Boom!

At this moment, there was another explosion, and Viscount Grant originally thought it was thunder, but he soon noticed that something was wrong, he looked up in mid-air, looked at Harrison Port in the distance, and couldn't help but be stunned again.

"My mansion!?"

The pitch-black column of smoke rose up, and although it was quickly blown away, it could be seen by the eyes of the sublimator that the column of smoke that rose due to the violent explosion occurred near his house!

- The natives have stolen their homes!

"Damn it!"

Gritting his teeth and descending from mid-air, Viscount Grant said to Elder Pud in a concise and horrified manner: "The natives have already launched a surprise attack while we can't return to the city quickly, you guessed right, they must have foreseen the coming of the great storm, otherwise it would be impossible to take such a risk." ”

"Do you want to go back?" The old man asked briefly.

"I'm not going back." The nobleman's expression was a little hideous: "If he wants to raid, then I will raid too-listen to the order, turn back, and march towards Ammore Town!" ”

Grant turned his head almost through gritted teeth and looked in the direction of Ammoore Town: "It's too late to go back now, maybe there is still an ambush, since the natives want to steal our old bottom, we will also steal their old bottom!" ”

"Catch up with that group of mongrels, and take advantage of this great storm to wipe out the main force of the natives in Ammor Town!"