War (VI)

The chieftains of the monstrous retinue barked their commands, and heavy war horns sounded. "Kill!" "Crush them!" Dust billowed in rolling clouds as the earth shuddered. Satyrs blew into pan flutes, playing a magical suite that stoked the monsters' frenzy. Yet the melody was "The Mass," taught to them by some bored player bard. Beneath this grand, soul-stirring, and impassioned tune, a horde of savage monsters baring fangs and claws charged the human lines—a scene tinged with dark irony. The foremost legions of kobolds and goblins swarmed forward, hurling themselves violently against the defensive line of the Eagle's Claw spearmen-shieldbearers. Behind the spearmen, hundreds of archers loosed volley after volley of arrows. Before these dragonblood creatures even reached the line, they suffered heavy casualties. Yet the kobolds and goblins behind them did not hesitate. They stepped over—even trampled across—the corpses of their fallen kin, pressing forward in an unbroken wave. Even the rain of arrows could not halt their fearless charge. Still, even upon reaching the shield line, they were effortlessly skewered by the long spears. Behind the screen bought by the kobold and goblin legions with their lives, a line infantry regiment of more than three hundred dragonblood hobgoblins advanced. Keeping silent, they marched in lockstep to the cadence of drums. Under the soaring music, even when hobgoblins fell to enemy arrows, those behind instantly stepped forward to fill the gaps. Fortunately, most hobgoblins wore leather armor and were further protected by scales. Common arrows could not easily kill them, so their losses on the march remained minimal. When they reached a distance of merely fifty paces from the spearmen-shieldbearers, the hobgoblins halted and leveled their long firearms. "Fire!" Duoluo roared in a frenzy. *Bang!* Gunfire screamed, and pungent powder smoke rolled across the battlefield, blinding vision. On the coalition's front line, the spearmen's light shields were like paper before the devastating kinetic force of the heavy projectiles, instantly riddled with holes. Many of the tabard-wearing soldiers behind were struck, collapsing backward. Magically modified by artificers, the "Foe-Breaker Fire" was far more lethal than historical smoothbore muskets, and each volley produced a thick smokescreen. From that single volley alone, the foremost ranks of the Eagle's Claw suffered catastrophic losses, with over two hundred casualties. "Tempus preserve us..." "How could a mob of monsters form such an army?" Watching the battle unfold from the rear, Robert murmured in disbelief. His sight was obstructed by the rolling gunpowder smoke, preventing him from seeing the hobgoblin line regiment clumsily reloading. But as a veteran of countless battles, he keenly deduced that an attack of such magnitude likely required a lengthy preparation. "North Wind Winged Cavalry, prepare to charge!" The messengers swiftly relayed the signal to the front. The winged cavalrymen were clad in heavy plate armor, brandishing lances bearing the Grey Hawk banners, with wing-like ornaments unfurled from their backs. These wings were no mere decorations. When the North Wind Winged Cavalry charged, the feathers cut through the air with a piercing shriek that terrified enemy horses and exerted immense psychological dread upon opposing ranks. "Nothing can stand in their way." Robert held absolute confidence in his cavalry. This unit had campaigned for years. Countless foes had broken and fled in utter ruin under the screech of their wings. "For His Grace the Duke! Charge!" Dust surged as the earth trembled. Over four hundred winged cavalrymen galloped across the flat expanse of the wasteland. The ornaments at their backs shrieked, their horses' hooves pounding the earth in a thundering cadence. "*Gust of Wind*!" The coalition's spellcasters conjured powerful gales, blowing the smoke aside. Yet as the smoke drifted away, what greeted the cavalry was not only the line regiment reloading their weapons, but mountain-sized land drakes. *Roar—* The land drakes let out deep bellows, the earth shuddering under their massive strides. Cast beneath the shadows of these titanic beasts, the winged cavalrymen looked up blankly, the fierce fighting spirit on their faces replaced by horror. Even the battle-hardened warhorses instinctively neighed in terror, some bucking and throwing their riders to the ground. Yet they had already charged to within thirty paces; stopping was impossible. They had no choice but to brace themselves and plunge ahead. *Roar!* With a furious bellow, a land drake crashed headlong into the tight charge formation of the cavalry. In a single collision, several cavalrymen were effortlessly crushed beneath its talons, reduced to bloody paste. Many more slammed uncontrollably into that colossal frame. Even when lances pierced the drake's thick, calloused hide, they could not penetrate deep enough. The riders could only watch in terror as the mountain of a beast slammed into them, followed by darkness. Unable to restrain his bloodlust any longer, Duoluo strode personally to the front lines. This dragonblood hobgoblin stood a full three meters tall. Though unarmored, his sinewy, muscular frame was covered in rigid scales that ordinary blades could not pierce. In his hands, he wielded a massive, five-meter-long axe—the Bloodfire Battleaxe. It was a poleaxe with crude bloodstains mottled across its blade. It was said that upon its completion, twelve goblins had labored together just to haul it to the military camp. Yet with the tremendous might of the dragon bloodline, Duoluo could swing it with blistering ferocity. Now, this dragonblood hobgoblin was a pure killing machine. His eyes were blood-red, hot white smoke huffing from his nostrils as he leaped lightly atop the drake with the colossal axe in hand. *Roar—* "I will... crush you all!" With a whistling shriek of cleaved air, the Bloodfire Battleaxe carved a wide half-circle, its terrifying momentum severing a winged cavalryman clean through the waist. Yet the stroke did not end there. Continuing its sweep, the blow cut down three men in succession, drenching the axe head in steaming, fresh blood. "Good... just like that." Blood splattered across the hobgoblin's fanatical face. He merely flicked his tongue to taste it, relishing the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. "Die!" Duoluo raised the battleaxe high, splitting an evading knight clean from helmet to stirrup, horse and all. Swinging his massive axe like a meat grinder, he relentlessly harvested the lives of surrounding cavalrymen. Wherever he passed, severed limbs and shattered bodies littered the ground. The winged cavalrymen scattered in every direction like hunted lambs, desperate to evade this horrific monster. Meanwhile, the line regiment had finished reloading and commenced independent fire upon the cavalry. Though their accuracy against rapidly moving targets was low, several riders were still unseated and knocked from their mounts. "Tempus preserve us..." "They really are... a horde of monsters." Observing the chaotic battle, Robert's expression turned increasingly grim, cold sweat beading on his brow. The winged cavalry he took such pride in was utterly fragile before these savage, unreasonable monsters. Now, he had to rethink his strategy.