As the deliberations came to a close, Morgan felt a rush of excitement and anticipation. He couldn't wait to share the good news with the Kings who were waiting in the city. He knew that Darius support was crucial for the success of their plan, they could act in a unified manner, which would increase their chances of victory.

Darius didn't try to hold Morgan back, which was a relief. Morgan wanted to reach out to the Rulers in the city as soon as possible to finalize their plans. He knew that time was of the essence, and any delay could be costly.

As Morgan left the Commander's tent, he looked up at the sky. The faint light gave him a sense of calm, which he desperately needed after the tense deliberations. The ground was muddy, but he didn't mind. He felt light on his feet, as if a burden had been lifted off his shoulders. Persuading Darius to support their plan had been slightly easier than Morgan had anticipated. He had been prepared for twists and turns, but it seemed that Darius shared his desire for transcendent power.

With Darius's confirmation, Morgan knew that their plan could finally be launched. He was confident that their strategy would work, and that they would succeed in bringing down Dracule, the most powerful emperor on the continent. The countdown to his demise had begun. And with Dracule out of the way, Darius would undoubtedly become the master of the army and possibly even the Assyrian Empire.

Morgan's mind was racing as he thought about the changes that the hundred nation war had brought about. As much as he felt a tinge of envy towards Darius, he believed that everyone had their own destiny, and he was content to let things unfold naturally. If Darius became the emperor, Morgan would have the privilege

of being friends with an emperor.

The war had changed the fate of countless people, from peasants to the aristocracy. Morgan couldn't help but wonder what his own fate would be in the coming days. Lost in his thoughts, he hurried back to Norwich City to deliver the news of Darius's agreement to the emperors and kings. They were overjoyed, and even the Babylonian Empire, which had previously wanted to retreat, pledged their support for the war effort.

Over the next few days, while Dracule was still healing, Darius tightened his grip on the army and began to make secret contact with the city's kings to determine various matters. Things were going well, and Dracule's once strong control over the army had weakened due to the purge of his trusted general, Duke Darius.

Darius had become more of an admirer of Dracule than a fearful subordinate. He was confident in his ability to control the army without alerting Dracule. As time passed, the plan was coming together, and Dracule was unaware of the betrayal that was about to occur.

Dracule sat in the middle of the military tent, practising what he believed was the power of God, but to Rico, it was known as Origin energy, albeit a weakened version.

The sword given to him by God, Excalibur, was now in his hands. Morgan couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as he thought about what was about to happen. The stakes were high, and the outcome was uncertain, but they had come too far to turn back now.

The sword, Excalibur, was not an ordinary weapon, but a work of divine art. Its blade shone with a silvery-blue light, and its handle was adorned with intricate patterns of precious metals and gems. The sword seemed to possess a life of its own, resonating with the Origin energy that flowed through the universe, amplifying its wielder's power to incredible levels.

During the fateful battle for Norwich City, the Allied forces faced a seemingly unbeatable opponent in the form of Dracule, whose divine might was unmatched on the field of battle. To try and overcome his immense power, the Allied forces intentionally formed an army without metal, using trebuchets armed with burning stones made from oil in a desperate bid to defeat him and emerge victorious.

Despite their valiant efforts, the Allied forces were ultimately unsuccessful in their attempts to overcome Dracule's immense strength. He had spent nearly a year cultivating divine power, which only served to make him stronger. While he may not have fully understood the intricacies of Origin energy and its effect on cellular structure, Dracule's special abilities and the sword granted to him by the gods made him virtually unbeatable in direct combat. His prowess on the battlefield was comparable to that of a human tyrannosaur, making him a nearly invincible foe.

However, even Dracule was not entirely invulnerable. The trebuchets had caused severe injury and damage to his body, forcing him to rely on Origin energy to recover and delay his plans. In doing so, he inadvertently gave the Allied forces of the hundred nations time to regroup and strengthen their ranks, and created an opportunity for Darius's rebellion to take root.

Dracule, the formidable and notorious warrior, was still suffering from the lingering effects of his injury. The wound had not yet fully healed, leaving him weakened and vulnerable. As a result, he had made the difficult decision not to participate in any upcoming battles. He knew he couldn't afford to take any chances, not when his life was on the line. And so, he had resolved to wait until he was fully recovered before returning to the fray.

Despite his frustration at being sidelined, Dracule knew he had made the right decision. He had learned the hard way that underestimating mortal opponents could have dire consequences. He refused to be caught off guard again and was determined to approach every battle with a new level of caution and respect.

As Dracule sat brooding in his chamber, he was startled by the sudden appearance of his butler. The old man's face was solemn as he informed Dracule that Darius, a trusted ally, had come to see him. Dracule's brow furrowed in confusion. He had given strict orders not to be disturbed unless it was a matter of great importance. What could have prompted Darius to come to him now?

Setting aside his cultivation practice,

Dracule summoned Darius. When the man entered the room, he quickly knelt before Dracule in a show of respect. Dracule's keen eyes scanned Darius's face for any clues as to what had prompted his visit. Whatever it was, it was clear that Darius regarded it as a matter of great urgency.

Darius, the wise Duke and eloquent counselor of the court, spoke in a tone as poetic as it was grave. His eyes, heavy with the weight of the news he carried, betrayed his exhaustion. As he knelt before Dracule, he spoke with the urgency of a man who had seen too much death.

"Your Majesty," Darius began, his voice low and measured, "we have received word that the army in the city is retreating with great haste. It appears that they have been spooked by our forces."

Dracule raised an eyebrow, his expression one of mild surprise. But beneath the surface, he could feel a flicker of satisfaction. It was no secret that the Assyrian Empire boasted a formidable cavalry force - a trump card that had helped Dracule achieve an early victory in the war.

"It seems they are not as brave as they thought," Dracule remarked, his voice dripping with confidence. "They know they cannot match us on the battlefield."

And indeed, the news was not surprising.

The Allied Forces of the Hundred Nations had suffered a devastating blow, their cavalry almost entirely annihilated. Without the support of their cavalry, they were left with only infantry - no match for Dracule's skilled cavalry. Even within the safety of their walls, they would be hard-pressed to withstand Dracule's forces. Without the cover of trebuchets, their fate would be sealed.

Dracule couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the news. After all, he had always known that he was invincible - a lion among mere mortals. It was only a matter of time before his enemies realized that they were no match for him.

Dracule's sharp tone cut through the air, "Does every soldier flee, as cowards often do?" His voice was a commanding force, carrying with it an air of poetry and regal confidence.

"Your Majesty," Darius answered with a measured tone, his heart beating faster with each passing moment. "Only one army has left the field, that of the Babylonian Empire, as indicated by their standard."

Dracule's eyes glinted with a sense of knowing, "Ah, the Babylonians have shown some sense after all. They must have retreated with their remaining cavalry."

Darius waited in bated breath, eager to hear his monarch's next decree. "Your Majesty," he ventured with a touch more conviction. "What action shall we take?"

Dracule's lips curved upwards with a calculated grin, "Naturally, we will pursue them," he declared, his words flowing with the ease of a poet. "But alas, it will be over all too soon."

Dracule's laughter echoed through the room, and Darius felt a shiver run down his spine. He knew that when his king was in this mood, there was no stopping him. Dracule was a man on a mission, and he would stop at nothing until his goals were accomplished.

Darius opened his mouth to protest, but Dracule was already one step ahead. "I don't want to wait," he said, his voice full of determination. "This chase, I shall lead the cavalry myself. Last time I let them run, this time I want to see how they run with soulless men. This time, I want to end this royal bloodline of cowards."

Darius's frown deepened, and he took a step forward. "But Your Majesty, your wounds?" he asked, concern etched in his voice.

Dracule's face twisted with annoyance at Darius's interruption. "Do not question me, Darius," he spat out. "I am the king, and I will do as I please. My wounds are inconsequential. I am strong enough to lead my army into battle."

Darius's expression remained neutral, but his mind was already whirring with ideas. He knew that Dracule's arrogance and narcissism could be used to his advantage. "Your Majesty," he said, bowing his head respectfully. "Of course, I defer to your judgment.”

Darius watched as Dracule rose to his feet, his body brimming with energy. "Come on," he shouted. "Get me my armour!"

Darius knew that it was futile to try and stop Dracule from carrying out his plans. In fact, it was part of the plan itself to get Dracule out in the open. As Darius watched Dracule's excitement and determination, he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. The plan had already begun, and it seemed to be going a little more smoothly than he had initially anticipated.