Nobody expected a summoned Dungeon as a response to a cavalry charge.

Wepwawet's plan had been simple if unconventional; gather multiple forces in Neigebleue Castle, then teleport it on top of the enemy with the associated Miracle once their siege engines inevitably breached the fortifications. He knew Epona and her allies would likely deploy powerful cavalry through the breach in an effort to quickly storm the defenders.

The ploy had succeeded beyond all expectations. Not only had the castle plugged the hole in their fortifications and trapped the few undead cavalry which hadn't been crushed under ice and stone within its halls, breaking their charge and isolating them in separate rooms where they couldn't leverage their mobility, but the fortress' sudden appearance had also caused the lava moat to partly overflow. A wave of magma had flooded across the plains outside Salamandra, incinerating hundreds of soldiers while Wepwawet's own forces remained safe behind its walls.

The maneuver also had the bonus of trapping undead warriors in a room with a pissed off dragon, which ought to prove entertaining. The rest of Mortis' troops were either imprisoned in sealed off rooms they simply couldn't escape from, or surrounded by loyal wereling troops.

The downside of the tactic was that Wepwawet's Neigebleue Castle Miracle only allowed him to summon the Dungeon and not the Altar it depended on to use its Perks. It couldn't create traps, nor shift its rooms, or create creatures from nothing right now. Castle Neigebleue was currently little more than an immobile base rather than a powerful living entity.

But that would be more than enough for now.

The gates of Neigebleue Castle soon opened once the localized lava flood had cooled off and unleashed its garrison onto the ashy plains. A group of man-eating, pumpkin-shaped carriages ridden by werewolf archers strolled out with teeth for doors and eyes for windows. The sheer sight of their ghastly appearance and gnarly screeches put great fear into the heart of the Valentinians, with the monsters trampling many in the initial charge.

"I am Princess Treasure!" a certain chest shouted from atop the castle walls as she wished her subjects well and waved at them with a handkerchief. "Let them eat cake and raspberries!"

Castle Neigebleue's power allowed it to create six ranks worth of monsters of the Artificial, Undead, Elemental, or Slime typing each day. Opting for quality over quantity, and to fit the theme provided by Princess Treasure, Wepwawet had the Dungeon produce a small fleet of Rank 3 Mimic Coaches. They were rather obedient as far as their kind went when sufficiently fed and helped cover Verglane's crippling lack of cavalry, though they needed coachmen to guide them properly.

Wereling infantry and giant mercenaries led by Rickart, Rapoleon, and other Commanders followed after them to mop the floor with those disoriented by the initial charge. Valentine's siege engines swiftly found themselves struck by a counteroffensive of projectiles as ice boulders produced by Wintresse's magic and poisonous urns filled with acidic waste from Whiro's swamp hit them back with deadly accuracy.

One of Neigebleue Castle's Perks let it produce A-ranked traps… which included catapults. These traps were meant to send unlucky adventurers stepping on them flying out of the castle and crashing on the ground beyond, so it had been easy for Wepwawet's engineers to repurpose them into siege engines built atop the castle's towers.

"Choke on our trash!" Slimon boasted from one of the towers while golem helpers placed urns filled with poison harvested from Whiro's marshes onto the catapults. They had originally been destined for storage, but it was never too soon to invent biological warfare. "Reload the catapult, Igor! A few more degrees to the left!"

"Igor!" his golem helper replied.

"I giveth cleanliness and taketh it away!" Slimon boasted in the middle of his power-trip, the catapult firing an urn across Lavaland's arid landscape and melting a group of Valentinian pikemen alive on impact. "I am the soap god of war who cleanses the soul with death!"

That sounded mildly blasphemous, but Wepwawet would let him indulge this time. The counterattack had completely taken the wind out of the enemy's sails, disrupted their formations, and destroyed most of their siege engines. The reduction in enemy fire from the counterattack allowed Alexandrite and the mages on the walls to provide suppressive fire for soldiers on the ground in turn; kobolds constantly resupplied the archers with arrows to keep the pressure going; Insupportable, Bernard, and the castle garrison had the Mortis cavalry well in hand; and while Victoire's group waged a fierce battle in the sky against the pegasus corps, they had skillfully stopped the latter's advance.

In short, everything was going great so far.

A pity a Doctrine of some kind protected the pegasi from mental interference. Wepwawet had tried to take them over with Animal Kingdom the moment they entered his airspace and have them throw their riders off their backs, only for his Miracle to hit a psychic wall.

They're not used to this kind of engagement, Wepwawet guessed upon observing the enemy. Unlike his soldiers, who had fought the likes of Isis, Beelzebub, and Whiro in terrible battles showcasing sudden shifts of fortune and the cataclysmic feats of magic gods could bring to battlefield, Valentine and Mortis' forces were probably waging their very first engagement against a heaven-backed army. It helps that neither Hel nor Epona can project their Influence effectively without an Altar nearby. They can't bring their best Miracles to the battle.

Wepwawet guessed his enemies had gambled on the fact that his Miracles were the sole reason he had overcome Whiro rather than his Champions and strategy.

Nonetheless, Wepwawet didn't sleep on his laurels. He had no idea how much manpower Epona could bring to bear through her teleporter, and her pegasus corps had already reformed its ranks. His wereowls and wyvern riders fought well, but the Valentinians outnumbered them four to one. Wepwawet only had so many soldiers to fight with after surviving Whiro's Incursion, and his foes could absorb more losses. Moreover, summoning the castle cost him eleven mana and left him with less than half of his reserves.

He had to prevent this battle from becoming one of attrition.

"Filou, exploit the gaps in their formation and charge the teleporter with the rest of the elephant riders," Wepwawet ordered his Champion, who had just finished mopping up some cannons off a hill in a cavalry charge. "Disrupting their teleportation network will choke off the flow of reinforcements until Victoire can rejoin you. I'll cover your advance."

"Yes, Your Godliness!" Filou patted his elephant mount on the head. "Let's go, Vaillant!"

Oh, he had given it a name? Neat. Wepwawet turned his attention to Peridot next. "How's the situation on the east side?"

"Under control," the general replied. "I am gathering the garrison for a sortie."

"Good." How great was it to fight with proactive Champions capable of taking initiative on their own. "Link up with Rickart's troops and march onto the teleporte–"

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He sensed a surge of mana spread through the air outside and inside his Influence alike.

Divine energies empowered every horselike creature on the entire battlefield, strengthening their muscles and setting their hooves ablaze. Wepwawet immediately assessed that this was the work of Epona's Providence rather than a Miracle; and a System message quickly informed him of the effect.

Epona's Wild Charge hastened all equine creatures!

The Valentinian cavalry, which had been repelled by the mimic coach charge a second ago, struck back in a wild tide of hooves and steel. Centaurs and riders struck Wepwawet's monsters and werelings faster than cars, while pegasus riders became blurs of speed in the sky. Wepwawet's wereowls fell from the sky by the dozens much to his horror, and Soumis swiftly found himself turned into a dragon pincushion. A javelin crippled Jarlack's arm and nearly caused him to fall off his wyvern, while Rickart found himself struggling against a rain of arrows on the ground.

This is bad! Wepwawet quickly went through his options and found one that ought to even the odds. Terraformer!

A black mechanical spire sprouted beneath his Idol and twisted the weather in a single pulse of mana.

Wepwawet's Fire & Ice Doctrine protected his followers from all heat or frost-related weather and terrain effects, including his own. He expected Epona and Hel to have shielded their Champions against fire when sending them to Lavaland, and so settled on some weather on the other side of the temperature spectrum.

Clouds formed in an instant above Salamandra and unleashed a mighty hailstorm upon the city of glass.

While their city was so hot that hail turned to steam the moment it hit the ground, many magmorians briefly paused their assault in sheer shock. Most of them had never seen this kind of weather in the past, some even asking their allies what it was and wondering why it only affected their enemies. The werelings simply took it as a blessing from Wepwawet, and morale increased in a burst of renewed zeal.

The results were immediate. Whereas golf ball-sized hail hit pegasus wings and caused them to lose control of their flight or diminished their riders' visibility, the ice harmlessly bounced off the skin of Wepwawet's flyers and didn't impede them in the slightest. Arrows grew less accurate, and many Valentinian knights had to raise their shields to protect their heads rather than attack. The respite allowed Wepwawet's wereowls to briefly regroup.

Results on the ground were less enthusiastic. The hail turned to steam long before it could hit the ground and thus impair Valentinian forces. Their hastened cavalry had pushed his troops back, throwing mimic coaches off their wheels with heavy spears and trampling their wereling coachmen. The summoned centaurs pelted wereling infantry under a hail of arrows that turned them into sitting ducks behind shield walls. A group of them had surrounded Rickart and bombarded him from afar while carefully staying out of his axe's range, and Rapoleon's wererats had to hide behind a row of spears to keep Valentinian horsemen from flanking them.

The best Wepwawet could do for them was to cast a Power Dice to strengthen them against the Valentinian army. He rolled a five, which ought to give them a short boost. Seeing that Soumis and Jarlack had taken heavy wounds, with the latter barely hanging onto his wyvern, Wepwawet also followed through with an empowered Oath of Spring that healed his Champion's wounds and turned their skin to bark. This double Miracle maneuver cost him fourteen mana, but helped stabilize the frontline.

Only nineteen mana left in the tank, Wepwawet grunted. I'm running out of gas.

Every Miracle had to count.

These three didn't let up.

Sweat dripped from Victoire's forehead in spite of the cold wave blowing on her face, the hail falling on her dragon mount, and the thick bark covering her skin. Her arms felt sore from alternating between blocking lethal arrows with her shield and throwing her spear at phantom foes.

The three knights attacking her had already proved fast a few minutes ago, but their speed had only increased twofold. The yellow knight had switched from javelins to a bow while the others stuck to their jousting spears. They proved so quick that the closest rider's body vanished when Victoire attempted to impale them with her spear as if it had never been there.

An afterimage?! A flash of pain cut through Victoire's thoughts as an arrow hit her in the back, piercing through her armor and bark-skin alike. She felt blood dripping down her spine and faced an empty spot when she turned. Damn it, I'm too slow!

"Soumis cannot eat these flies, Mistress!" Soumis complained. His flames turned the hail to steam and illuminated the sky, but so far they had failed to harm their enemies. "They sting and fly away too fast! Like bees!"

We're lucky all they can do is sting you. The riders had repeatedly attempted to damage the dragon's wings in an attempt to send him plummeting into the ground below, and they might very well succeed at this rate. At least the hail slowed down their assault somewhat.

Victoire gritted her teeth and focused. They had no chance against these three in a pure battle of speed, so she had to anticipate their trajectory and hope she could react fast enough to hit them in mid-flight.

Her god's voice came to the rescue. "They're within my Influence's range, so I can help guide your aim, Victoire."

Victoire nodded and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, the same way she used to before Lord Raymond's combat lessons, blocking all sound and outside stimulation. The feeling of the hail bouncing off her armor yet doing nothing to her, the echo of clashing steel, the explosions and screams of her allies… all of them faded away in a world of silent darkness. Her own mind had become a pitch black night which only her god's voice could break through.

"Two degrees to the left!"

Victoire threw her spear, her head instinctively tilting to the right to avoid an unseen projectile to the face, and then struck true.

Her eyes snapped open just in time to see her weapon strike the red knight charging straight at her in the chest. Her divinely empowered spear struck hard enough to puncture the attacker's breastplate, draw blood, and dismount them. They began to plummet down towards the ground amidst the stormy weather with a scream.

"Justine!" the blue knight shouted with a stout male voice before immediately diving after his falling ally. "I'm coming!"

"Roland, don't!" the yellow knight—another man—shouted in alarm, only for a dragon's shadow to loom over him. The pegasus rider barely managed to fly out of the way of Soumis' jaws and hastily raised his bow for a counterattack. "Damnit!"

Now that he was alone with no wingmates to distract them, Victoire and Soumis had an easier time focusing on the last one. She recalled her spear to her hand, blocked an arrow with her shield, and waited for the yellow knight to dive to the left to dodge Soumis' firebreath. This let Victoire predict his trajectory and throw her weapon at him.

She unfortunately missed the rider because of the mount's sheer speed, but nonetheless managed to clip the pegasus' right wing. The animal let out a cry of pain, and the rider cursed as they flew away to the east rather than continue the fight.

"You put the paupers and their donkeys back in their place, Mistress!" Soumis said with a whistle. "Serves you right for trying to harm a princess!"

"Now is the time to break through the encirclement!" Lord Wepwawet ordered in her mind. "Rejoin Filou and destroy the teleporter, or there'll be no end to them!"

"Soumis, fly towards the giant sword!" Victoire ordered her dragon, kicking him in the back for good measure. "Hurry up!"

The gesture drew a whine of joy from the dragon—which Victoire immediately regretted—but he swiftly obeyed nonetheless. Soumis roared and blazed through the pegasus riders, his hot scales leaving a trail of steam in his wake as the hail evaporated against them. A large portion of the Valentinian air force followed her while Jarlack rallied what remained of the Verglanian troops away from the rest. Barely half of their flyers had survived the engagement, and the battle in the sky was lost.

Nonetheless, they had brought the rest of their army precious time. Valentinian knights fell upon the mages and the archers protecting the walls to harass them, but this wouldn't amount to much without the siege engines required to break through them.

Victoire peeked over her shoulder and cursed. The yellow and blue knights from earlier were catching up to her, with the latter carrying his red ally on his back. A group of pegasus riders also followed them in an attempt to intercept Soumis before they could link up with Filou.

"They're already on our tail!" Victoire's gaze spotted movement to the northwest, and her heart skipped a beat in her chest when she focused on it. "What the–"

A mountain was advancing on Salamandra.

Wepwawet could only stare in disbelief as a giant statue appeared over the horizon.

He mistook it for a northwestern mountain he had somehow missed at first, except mountains didn't have legs or arms. It walked across the arid landscape at a feverish pace while garbed in an armor of painted terracotta and carrying a long iron rod as a weapon. A crown of gemstones glittered atop its simian head, which allowed Wepwawet to immediately identify the god this device was based on.

That was a giant-sized stone monkey fueled by mana.

Sun Wukong had joined the party.

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