In ancient legends, the Green River flows like an emerald ribbon, cutting through ancient mountains and vast plains.
This great river is renowned for its uniquely verdant waters, which shimmer like precious gems under the sunlight.
According to the legends, the Green River's source lies in a mysterious ancient mountain that was traversed millions of years ago by Alkis.
The rocks within these mountains contain ancient and mysterious minerals, which dissolve into the river, giving it its distinctive green hue.
As daylight began to break, the soldiers resumed their march, with the river's surface gleaming faintly with a silvery glow, reflecting the river's ferocity.
The swift current created a roaring sound, like the anger of nature itself.
Mist hovered over the Green River, and its surface glowed with a soft green light in the morning's brightness.
But this did not hide the river's swiftly flowing nature.
Inside a hastily erected command tent, the captains gathered, the air heavy with tension.
The Green River marked on the map was not just a geographical obstacle but a crucial juncture in their march.
The captains inside the tent discussed crossing strategies with urgency, their eyes frequently darting to the preparations outside.
After repeated discussions and adjustments, the engineers finally began preparations for the crossing.
They carried rafts and pontoons, the heavy equipment appearing massive on the soldiers' shoulders.
The rafts, made of sturdy planks and strong ropes, could bear most of the weight.
However, maintaining stability in the rapids remained a daunting challenge.
The pontoons, constructed from multiple connected rafts, required careful assembly to ensure their steadiness on the water.
The engineers pushed each raft into the water, and they trembled as they floated, quickly swept along by the strong current.
Several engineers stood on the raft, struggling to keep it balanced as they tightly gripped the ropes, working in coordination.
The raft shook violently under the impact of the river, sending up sprays of water that sometimes drenched them completely.
Despite this, they continued to stabilize the raft in the middle of the river.
The construction of the pontoon bridge was also proceeding simultaneously.
Rafts were connected to form a pontoon bridge, and the engineers on both banks carefully secured each joint.
The current's impact caused the bridge to sway occasionally, and they had to quickly adjust each support post to ensure the bridge's stability.
However, as time went on, the river's strength continued to increase, and the swaying of the bridge grew more intense.
At that moment, a whirlpool suddenly appeared in the river, breaking the previous calm.
The powerful current instantly dragged part of the raft and the bridge's support points into the water.
Several soldiers on the rafts were caught off guard and swept into the whirlpool by the sudden surge.
The whirlpool's force was immense, washing away nearly all of their efforts.
The engineers on the pontoon bridge found themselves in a difficult situation.
Several engineers were struck by the strong current while adjusting the bridge and were swept toward the center of the river.
Despite the other engineers' desperate attempts to pull them back with ropes, the bridge's violent shaking and the river's strong flow made the situation even more complicated.
"Immediately stop the crossing! All personnel return to the shore!"
The order from the rear command was swiftly relayed to the front line by the communication officer.
The operation was abruptly halted, and the soldiers returned to the riverbank, looking grim and exhausted.
The priest at the main camp, upon hearing the news, angrily slapped his thigh and cursed the frontline as a bunch of useless fools.
The common goal of the four allied armies was to reach Celestoria for their mission.
They had spent months to reach the outskirts of the city, but now the Aetherhaven forces could only watch as the other armies pulled ahead.
However, there was still one unit moving even slower than the Aetherhaven regiment—the forces from the southernmost port city, Eldoria.
The intense heat during the march caused many soldiers to struggle, significantly slowing down their pace.
Only during the early morning hours could their speed noticeably improve.
In contrast, the troops from Stormhaven and Brightwater had a much faster and smoother march.
With moderate climate and uncomplicated terrain, they advanced without much difficulty.
As dusk approached, the golden hues of the sky gradually turned into a deep orange-red.
The sun hung low on the western horizon like a fiery ball about to sink into the sea, creating a stunning display of sunset clouds.
Its light softened, turning the clouds red and outlining them with a golden edge, gradually blending into the oncoming night.
Nightfall was quietly descending, and the distant mountains became increasingly obscure in the shifting light, leaving only dark silhouettes that sketched out their vast contours.
Returning to the perspective of the Stormhaven troops:
After a night of rest, and following their breakfast on the second day, there were only thirty minutes left before the next round of marching would commence.
At that moment, Dillon, who was in his tent, was busy preparing his gear.
He removed the old bowstring from his bow, replacing it with a new one, and carefully applied some oil to the arrowheads to ensure their sharpness.
Feathers were equally important, so he inspected his arrows to confirm that none were damaged, then proceeded to maintain his close-combat weapons.
Drawing the dagger from his belt, he began sharpening it with a small whetstone before thoroughly wiping it down with a cloth.
The war hammer, however, lacked any surfaces that needed sharpening, so he simply polished it with a cloth.
Once his preparations were complete, Dillon intended to join his team, but just as he stood up, suddenly I thought of my childhood friend.
But it had now been nearly two days, and Borne still had not returned, causing Dillon to feel a bit worried.
However, he quickly reassured himself that Borne had been scouting for the team's advancement for so long, there was no need to worry.
After all, they had faced life and death together countless times, and Borne had never failed before.
Dillon re-equipped himself with his prepared gear and stepped out of the tent, joining his unit.
As time passed, the soldiers on the entire front line began gathering with their respective units.
The battalion commanders, seeing that the time was nearly right, sounded the horn.
The sound of the horn resonated throughout the camp, and the soldiers quickly formed their ranks in the predetermined formation.
The four battalion commanders surveyed the formation, and upon confirming everything was in order, sounded the horn once more.
The engineers led the march, moving to the front of the formation, followed orderly by the rest of the troops.
And so, the army began its grand advance toward the final barrier to Celestoria.