In the northernmost region of the Reyne Empire, in the province of Sadrina, lies Broodley County and its most prominent city, Scorchsun.
As the empire's northernmost city, Scorchsun has the longest winter in the entire kingdom, in stark contrast to what its name might suggest. While the distant capital is just entering the dry and leisurely season of autumn, snow is already falling thick and fast in Scorchsun, covering the city in a blanket of white.
Yet beneath this beautiful, silent landscape lurks anything but the peace and calm expected of winter.
"Orcs are coming!"
A blood-soaked hunter, scrambling and stumbling as he made his way back into the village, screamed at the top of his lungs.
In an instant, doors swung open across the village. The villagers stepped out, exchanging terrified glances before rushing back inside to grab their belongings. With children in tow, they hurriedly made for the hills behind the village, seeking refuge.
The entire village fell into chaos — chickens scattered, dogs barked, and fear spread like wildfire.
Moments later, out from the woods at the village's edge emerged several towering figures. A closer look revealed them to be brutish warriors with the bodies of men but the heads of beasts—orcish warriors!
"Arrooooo!" The lead orc warrior, his wolf-like head thrown back in a howl, raised his thick, two-meter-long blade high. With a swift motion, he pointed toward the village.
More orc warriors spilled out of the forest, howling and roaring, wielding their crude yet massive weapons with fervor, charging toward the village like a pack of ravenous wolves.
Hundreds of orc warriors easily breached the village's simple wooden barricades meant for warding off wild animals. They quickly overtook the villagers who hadn't managed to flee in time, unleashing a storm of violence and bloodshed.
"Please... please..." A woman, clutching her baby, cried out in despair, her legs giving way as she knelt and begged for mercy. But the wolf-headed orc sneered cruelly, swinging his massive blade to decapitate her in one swift motion.
Laughing maniacally, the orc ripped the wailing infant from her lifeless arms, sinking his fanged jaws into the tiny body...
Every villager caught by the orcs, whether man, woman, or child, faced the same tragic fate.
In the harsh winter, the orc tribes from the plains beyond the northern borders of the empire frequently raided human settlements, bringing nothing but death and destruction. To the strong and savage orcs, humans were nothing more than lambs before lions-easy prey. The conflict between humans and orcs had always been a bloody, never-ending war, with both races born as eternal enemies.
Up on the mountain, the few villagers who had managed to flee looked back in terror, hearts heavy with grief for those they had lost. The able-bodied men among them clenched their fists, their blood boiling with anger and frustration.
But they knew that, no matter how much they wanted to fight back, their strength was no match for the brutal might of the orc warriors, whose powerful physiques far surpassed those of humans.
As the villagers reached the summit, they saw a large crimson banner fluttering in the icy wind below, standing out against the snowy landscape.
"It's the Scorchsun Army!" someone shouted, their voice filled with overwhelming relief.
The villagers, worn and beaten by fear and sorrow, were suddenly reinvigorated at the sight of the vibrant banner and the mention of that fabled name. The banner, blood-red, bore the image of a black burning sun surrounded by blazing flames-the emblem of "The Crimson Sky, The Black Scorching Sun."
Beneath it, a squad of northern soldiers, clad in crimson robes and wielding various staves, charged toward them atop their battle beasts.
This was the Scorchsun Army-the magic corps of the city of Scorchsun.
At the head of the group, the youth bearing the Scorchsun banner stood out—his short black hair spiked like bristles, his gaze sharp as a blade.
Riding a white unicorn-like war beast, he galloped up to the villagers and called out loudly, "Where are the orcs!?"
His imposing figure, brimming with power and confidence, seemed like a deity descending from the heavens.
"They're down the mountain, in our village..." A young girl stepped forward, her tears streaming uncontrollably.
A flash of anger crossed the young mage's eyes, and he gave the girl a firm nod.
"Stay strong... We'll kill every last one of those beasts."
He turned his gaze away, gave a swift nudge with his legs to spur his war beast forward, and rode off, leaving behind only the towering figure with the blood-red and black sun insignia on his back. Dozens of mage soldiers followed closely behind him.
The young girl watched in a daze as the young mage rode away, captivated by the sight. A villager beside her asked,
"Who is that lord?"
"Zhuoyang Bright! The second son of Lord Bright, the ruler of Scorchsun City."
..
At the mountain's peak, Zhuoyang's cloak flapped wildly in the cold wind.
Through his monocular, he clearly surveyed the situation below. Raising his violet staff high, he gave a sharp command, "Troops, hear my order! Attack!"
With a swift movement, he pointed his staff toward the hundreds of orcs below.
"Attack!" The northern warriors-iron-willed and hardened by battle-were far removed from the typical image of gentle and reserved mages. They exuded a killing aura, born from the blood and carnage they had faced in their lives.
Dozens of mages, riding their war beasts, charged down the mountainside like a roaring flood. When they were still more than a hundred meters from the orcs, they began chanting spells and waving their staffs, launching magical attacks—
"Fallen Spear!"
"Ice Storm!"
"Whirlwind Blade Array!"
…
A dazzling array of magical attacks rained down on the orcs, ruthlessly claiming their lives. The air was filled with howls of pain as the orcs were struck down, limbs severed, and bodies pierced-their ranks decimated.
"Awwoooo!" The lead orc warrior, a hulking wolf-headed brute, roared defiantly, swinging his massive blade as he led the surviving orcs in a desperate countercharge. They sprinted across the snow, fearlessly charging into the relentless storm of magic.
But Zhuoyang and his troops were far too skilled to allow these simple-minded but physically powerful beasts to get close. Maintaining a safe distance, they maneuvered their war beasts in formation, calling out to one another as they strategically circled the orcs, launching magic from every angle.
Before long, the orc warriors, grievously wounded and losing their will to fight, were utterly defeated. Their morale shattered completely.
Here is the corrected translation:
Lightning struck down from the clear sky, a thunderous boom!
After Zhuoyang used a strike of "Thunder God's Hammer" to finish off the leading werewolf, the remaining surviving beastmen turned and fled, pursued by the mages. In the end, only a dozen or so managed to escape back into the forest.
"This is settled. Let's return to the city." Zhuoyang pulled the reins to stop his war beast.
"Yes, sir. What about the affected villagers?"
"Failing to rescue them in time is our fault. Take them back to the city with us and ensure they are properly cared for."
In the freezing snowstorm, with howling winds, the towering walls of Scorchsun City stood as imposing as a mountain. Atop the city's tower, a middle-aged man, wearing the same blood-red robes as Zhuoyang and bearing the emblem of the blood sun and black day, stood with arms crossed, unaffected by the biting wind and snow, like an immovable iron tower.
He was Zhuoyang's father, the lord of Scorchsun City—Blaze Bright.
"Father."
A young mage with a refined appearance—Zhuoyang's elder brother, Luoyang Bright—ascended the tower stairs and approached his father.
"Mother asks for you to return."
"Mm…" Lord Blaze responded softly, but his body remained still.
Luoyang looked at his father's profile and smiled slightly.
Although he usually disciplined Zhuoyang harshly, today, on the occasion of Zhuoyang leading his first military patrol, Lord Blaze waited for him here in the cold snow.
Luoyang stood beside his father, silently, and after a long pause, spoke again: "Zhuoyang has sent a letter."
"Oh?" Blaze turned his head.
"He sent some newly crafted potions… Mother just took them, and they are more effective than before." Luoyang smiled. "He also shared some tremendous news in his letter."
"What news?" Blaze's interest was piqued.
Here is the translation for the passage you provided:
"Hehe, let's wait for Zhuoyang to return, and then we'll go home and see together," Luoyang said with a mysterious smile, keeping his secret.
Scorchsun City Lord's Mansion.
In the spacious living room, the floor was covered with thick fur carpets, a fireplace in the wall burned warmly, and a luxurious chandelier on the ceiling cast soft, bright light across the room.
By the fireplace, a dignified, kind-looking middle-aged woman sat on a plush armchair. Beside her was a small crib, where a sweet little girl, about six or seven years old, slept peacefully.
The gentle woman, with a small smile on her face, was rereading a few sheets of letter paper. It seemed that with each reading, she could see her youngest son, who was far away in the distant city.
"Zhuoyang…" the woman murmured, "This is wonderful…"
Thinking about the hardships her youngest son had endured over the past six years, his mother, Tinya, couldn't help but shed a tear.
From his ambitious start when he first went to Pristlan, to his despair when he was diagnosed with a magic deficiency… the various expressions of her beloved son gradually surfaced in Tinya's mind.
More than the new potions, what delighted Tinya most was the news her son had mentioned in his letter.
There was hope to cure his magic deficiency!
"Mommy…"
The little girl on the crib suddenly stirred, waking up. She sat up and, with sleepy hands, rubbed her eyes.
"Mommy, why are you crying?"
The girl, seeing her mother crying over the letter, looked confused.
"I'm not," Tinya gently wiped the tears from her eyes and gave the girl a warm smile. "Xiaochen, Mommy isn't crying… Mommy is just happy."
Crying out of happiness was something Xiaochen couldn't quite understand.
At that moment, the butler, dressed in a black suit, entered the room and bowed. "Madam, the lord and young masters have returned."
Tinya nodded and rose from her chair to greet her husband and sons.
Soon, the entire Bright family gathered in the living room.
Earl Blaze silently read Zhuoyang's letter, a glimmer of light flashed in his eyes, and a subtle smile of relief gradually appeared on his face.
"What did our third brother say in the letter?" asked Zhuoyang's younger brother, Zhuoyang, who had just returned from the battle against the beastmen, whispering to Luoyang, his older brother.
Luoyang was about to answer when Earl Blaze handed the letter to Zhuoyang.
Zhuoyang quickly read through the letter, his eyes suddenly widening as he exclaimed, "Third brother's deficiency can be cured!?"
"The letter says there's hope," Luoyang replied with a smile. "But knowing our third brother, if he says there's hope, he's probably already certain of it."
"Hmm…" Earl Blaze nodded lightly, his expression serious. "Luoyang, how are the city finances right now? And regarding the partnership for the new heart-nourishing potion with the Alchemist Guild, last I heard from you, there was some progress."
"The city's reserves… are quite tight, and we have no extra funds. As for the heart-nourishing potion, the Alchemist Guild initially agreed to the first payment for the collaboration, but for some reason, they've kept delaying with various excuses," Luoyang answered truthfully.
"Hmm…" Earl Blaze fell silent for a while. He already knew that negotiating with those crafty and greedy alchemists wouldn't be easy. In the end, the money Zhuoyang urgently needed would have to come from the family.
"We'll temporarily halt the road project in the east of the city and cancel the new bridge budget in the west. Along with the taxes that are about to be collected…" Earl Blaze looked at Luoyang, "How much can we gather with that?"
Hearing his father's plan, Luoyang immediately closed his eyes, performing quick mental calculations. After a moment, he answered, "About 6,300 purple crystals."
"That's too little."
Earl Blaze frowned slightly. "We need to send at least 10,000 to Zhuoyang."
"Yes… I'll see what else we can do," Luoyang replied, pressing his lips together, nodding as he continued to calculate various Scorchsun City financial projects in his mind. He considered factors like raw materials for construction, labor wages, bank loans, logistics, and even scrap material recovery, furrowing his brow deeper as he tried to free up more funds.
Zhuoyang glanced at the letter in his hand, his eyes flickering with thought. Suddenly, he spoke up, "The new recruits in the Scorchsun Army—maybe we can delay their equipment for now."
"Huh?" Luoyang opened his eyes, surprised at his younger brother's suggestion.
Zhuoyang smiled. "They're new recruits, after all. If they don't go to battle this winter, it's no big deal. I'll just take on more patrols and handle a few extra battles myself." His words carried a subtle but unmistakable bravado.
Earl Blaze looked deeply at his second son, about to say something, when his wife Tinya suddenly spoke up, "No."
"Mother…" Zhuoyang began to protest, "It's fine. I can handle the extra responsibility, and as for Zhuoyang…"
"No," Tinya insisted, shaking her head. "The Scorchsun Army cannot be compromised. Instead of delaying new recruit equipment, let's sell a few of my pieces of jewelry from my room…"
"Mother!" Luoyang and Zhuoyang exclaimed in unison, their faces shifting with concern.
"We can't sell your belongings, Mother. I'll find another way," Luoyang said.
"No, I'll do it!" Zhuoyang argued. "Like I said, I'll take on the extra duties for the new recruits this winter. It's not a problem."
The two brothers stood their ground, nearly arguing. In the end, it was Earl Blaze's deep voice that broke the tension, silencing them both.
"We'll follow your mother's suggestion," Earl Blaze said after a moment's pause. "Have those… items auctioned. They've sat unused for so long, and if she really wants new ones, we can always buy more later."
Tinya smiled at her husband, her eyes filled with warmth and gratitude. Luoyang sighed, and Zhuoyang scratched his head, the two brothers exchanging a resigned look.
Throughout this whole exchange, little Chenyang, their youngest daughter, sat blinking and watching. Though too young to fully understand, the deep sense of care and love in this family had already seeped into her soul.
This was the Bright family, the family Zhuoyang cherished in both lifetimes.
With careful planning, the family managed to increase the amount from the few thousand crystals Zhuoyang had requested to a full ten thousand. Such a large sum of money was too precious to be sent via ordinary means.
"Zhuoyang, you'll head to the capital and deliver the money to Zhuoyang personally. Take the opportunity to check on how he's doing," Earl Blaze instructed.
"Huh? But what about my duties this winter…?" Zhuoyang began to protest.
"I'll handle them in your place."
"What… Father? You!?"