The battle on the right flank ground to an abrupt halt with the surrender of the nobles, leaving behind only a scattering of players hunting down routed soldiers. On the central front, however, the fierce clash between the two colossal armies raged on, tens of thousands of combatants locked in bloody struggle.
"Roaaar—!"
All three of the chimera's heads unleashed a furious bellow in unison.
The dragon head exhaled a torrent of searing flame, swatting another Eagle Guard out of the sky.
"Die, you monster!"
Aiden, Commander of the First Regiment of the North Wind Eagle Guard, let out a fierce shout as he drove his spear deep into the chimera's goat head.
With a shrill, agonizing shriek, the goat head snapped upward, spraying crimson blood across the air.
This three-headed beast had already slaughtered over a dozen of his men. Aiden was so desperate to slay it that he completely overlooked the threat looming above him.
Yet just as Aiden thrust his spear, an excited shout and a terrifying dragon roar echoed from behind.
"Noodles, go straight into Dragon Roar Charge!"
"Two thousand EXP, here I come!"
A clash of steel rang out, followed immediately by the dull thud of tearing flesh.
The lance, over six meters long, skewered the caught-off-guard Aiden and his giant eagle through and through while he was still frozen mid-thrust. Even the finest plate armor was helpless against the dreadful kinetic force of a lance diving from a hundred meters in the sky.
Just like that, Aiden, Commander of the First Regiment of the North Wind Eagle Guard, fell at the hands of a player.
A line of text flashed across Mantou's interface: [You have gained 2,100 XP].
"Holy crap, I just one-shotted an elite mob!"
Mantou flung Aiden's corpse aside with an exuberant cheer, then wheeled his wyvern around to climb back into the clouds.
...
Inside the coalition command tent, Robert watched the intensifying battle, sweat beading continuously across his forehead—whether from sheer nerves or the oppressive heat.
He wiped his face with an ornate silk cloth, his expression grim as he spoke to the staff officer beside him. "We can't let this go on."
"If we keep fighting like this, our soldiers won't hold out much longer."
"We must seize the initiative and break this stalemate."
The staff officer hesitated for a moment before asking, "My lord, you mean..."
Robert said in a deep voice, "Go ask Master Schroeder to intervene and support the vanguard."
The staff officer asked in surprise, "But didn't you say that unless that red dragon shows itself, Master Schroeder wouldn't need to cast his spells?"
Robert replied, "The Dragonslayer Ballistas are our only remaining trump card. If Master Schroeder doesn't reinforce the front lines, I don't know how much longer our army can hold."
His voice hitched.
"Aiden has already fallen..."
"Yes, my lord."
Understanding the gravity of the situation, the staff officer nodded hurriedly and went off to summon the Chief Court Wizard.
Before long, a man draped in grey robes arrived at the front lines under heavy coalition escort. He was the Grey Hawk of the Arcane Hermitage and Chief Court Wizard of the Principality of Lakeman—Schroeder.
An armored general stood attentively at his side, speaking with utmost respect. "Master Schroeder, that is the situation."
"We hope you can cast your magic to support the front-line troops."
Schroeder peered at the roaring, clawing monsters locked in savage combat with the coalition troops in the distance. In a gravelly voice, he murmured, "The red dragon's fiery brood, is it...?"
"I understand."
He narrowed his eyes at the high ground where the dragon-blooded monsters had gathered, then slowly raised his staff.
Ice Storm.
In an instant, thick, frigid storm clouds coalesced across the sky. First fell a shower of fine sleet, which quickly turned into massive hailstones, raining down chunks of ice as hard as stone.
As the hailstones battered the dragon-blooded creatures, they not only inflicted bludgeoning trauma but also brought bone-chilling cold.
Thud!
A chunk of hail slammed into a dragon-blooded lizardfolk. His movements grew increasingly sluggish as his scorching dragon-infused blood began to freeze, until he was ultimately encased as a motionless ice sculpture.
Similar scenes played out all across the high ground. The monsters scrambled frantically to escape the area, but many were flash-frozen mid-stride, preserved as statues in postures of flight.
Bearing the scorching bloodline of the red dragon, these creatures would have rather died in brutal melee than freeze to death so ignominiously under such magic.
"Damn it, it's an Ice Storm!"
Duoluo unfortunately found himself right near the center of the spell's area.
Though he swung his Bloodfire Battleaxe to ward off the falling hail, his swings steadily slowed, the blood in his veins turning sluggish and cold.
Sensing disaster, Duoluo roared with all the strength in his lungs:
"Langpu! Are you fucking dead back there?!"
"They've got a spellcaster!"
Boom!
A tremor shook the ground.
The dragon-blooded ogre, over six meters tall, flew straight to the front line using Fly, landing with an earth-shattering crash.
Though Duoluo had caused him no end of friction, letting the hobgoblin die here would make it difficult to explain things to their master later.
With that thought, Langpu calmly pushed up his gold-rimmed spectacles, then lifted a wand that looked as dainty as a toothpick in his massive grip.
Wall of Force.
An angled, invisible wall of pure force manifested high above the ridge.
The relentless hail crashed against it from above, but every stone was deflected by the smooth, slanted surface, sliding down to shower entirely onto the coalition's own battle lines.
Instantly, agonized wails erupted from the coalition ranks as casualties mounted rapidly.
Schroeder's face shifted dramatically. He quickly cast Shield, deflecting the incoming hail.
The guards stationed around him were not so fortunate. Many were battered to death by the hail on the spot, while others were turned into frozen statues.
Schroeder slipped to the rear of the lines with Misty Step.
He stared up at the invisible barrier hanging in midair, muttering in disbelief, "Damn it, a Wall of Force... Only Disintegrate can break through it. They actually have a high-level spellcaster of that caliber on their side."
Disintegrate was a sixth-circle spell—even Schroeder was powerless to breach such a barrier.
Meanwhile, on the monstrous army's side, Duoluo panted heavily, gnashing his teeth as he barked his "gratitude":
"Langpu, you sure took your sweet time! I nearly froze to death in that blasted spell!"
His anger only flared higher.
"I'm risking my neck out here on the front line, and you were nowhere to be seen back there!"
Langpu looked down at the hobgoblin with cold disdain, his tone nonchalant. "Commander Duoluo, think carefully about this. You were entrusted with the most elite forces of Cinder Nest, yet you were pushed to this point by a mere band of humans."
A trace of mockery laced Langpu's words.
"You once swore you would crush them with ease—those were your exact words. That was why I gave you this chance to show off. But look at you now... How is it that you still had to beg me to save you?"
"Langpu, you...!"
Stung by Langpu's biting sarcasm, Duoluo's face flushed an even deeper shade of red. Yet unable to find words to refute him, he could only swallow his fury in silence.
Langpu looked up toward the battlefield and slowly raised his wand.
"Watch closely. This is what crushing them with ease actually looks like."
Wall of Fire.
A curtain of roaring fire stretching dozens of meters erupted across the battlefield.
Towering tongues of flame mercilessly engulfed the unprepared coalition soldiers, unleashing a chorus of endless shrieks and wails.
Blessed with the blood of the red dragon, the minions of Cinder Nest feared the inferno not in the least. They surged eagerly straight through the wall of fire, giving relentless chase to their burning, wretched enemies.
Chapter 115