114. Winning Without Fighting

“What’s going on? What’s going on?” The great kings and generals pushed past the soldiers and rushed forward.

“The enemy cavalry has been deployed, and their strange war machines are moving too.”

“Ah, are they launching an attack?” The generals hadn’t yet seen the situation clearly.

“Not exactly…”

“They seem more like they are…”

Now, King Yan and the other generals could see clearly. The enemy’s cavalry had fully mobilized and was charging at full speed toward the allied army’s camp. However, they weren’t targeting the main camp directly, which was why the scouts noticed they had no intention of attacking their base head-on.

From a short distance to the left of the allied camp, a black torrent suddenly unleashed a dense volley of arrows. The cavalry halted their advance, and behind them, the strange war machines arrived. Huge crossbow bolts whistled through the air with a mournful roar. This time, the war machines fired a dense rain of arrows directly at the main camp. But these arrows were strange indeed—upon embedding in the ground, dark clouds swiftly gathered overhead. Amid a thunderclap, countless bolts of lightning struck the earth, blasting the grasslands before the camp into pits of varying sizes.

Watching the war machines retreat slowly along with the massive cavalry corps, King Yan and the generals turned pale. They had never seen such an attack. The dense arrows embedded in the ground by the cavalry alone made their hearts race with fear. Yet the terrifying bolts fired by the war machines, accompanied by the lightning strikes, chilled them to the bone.

Such formidable weapons were beyond their ability to resist. Even the bravest warriors would be reduced to ashes by this assault. And this was without the enemy’s infantry being deployed yet. Who knew how terrifying their foot soldiers might be? When they saw the massive axes carried by the enemy envoy’s guards earlier, a sense of dread had already settled in their hearts. If the enemy infantry wielded such giant axes, there would be no hope for them at all.

Exchanging grim looks, King Yan and the generals’ faces drained of color. There was no need to ponder further—they knew exactly what to do. King Yan’s earlier words had come true: the enemy no longer needed to mass their forces because they believed their five hundred thousand were sufficient. No matter how many troops they had, after the first wave of the enemy’s attack, at most half would remain. How could they fight such a battle?

Mo Fei’s deterrence had yielded results beyond his expectations. That very day, the elven scouts at the front reported that the enemy was breaking camp and preparing to retreat.

Mo Fei instantly relaxed, the pressure of three months vanishing without a trace. He collapsed and fell into a deep sleep. Outside the tent, over three thousand bear clan mages gathered silently, standing guard around Mo Fei’s tent. Outside them, the berserkers formed a protective ring. The bear mages encircled the berserkers, creating layers upon layers of protective circles.

Had the berserkers not seen the bear mages’ harmless demeanor and learned through interrogation that they came to formally pay respect to Mo Fei—the legendary Death Warlock—they would have long ago slaughtered the three thousand mages with their great axes. The berserkers firmly believed they could annihilate the mages before they even launched an attack.

As for Mo Fei, he woke with a start when he stepped out of his tent, startled to see the vast circle of berserkers and bear mages surrounding him. He thought something must have happened.

“All hail Lord Warlock!” Over three thousand mages knelt first, followed by the bear warriors. Finally, the berserkers dropped to one knee, voices echoing beyond the tent: “All hail His Majesty!”

After much effort, Mo Fei calmed everyone down, leaving only a small squad of palace guards from the Death Empire before the tent. These guards were elite berserkers chosen specifically to remain by Mo Fei’s side, never straying far from the young master they revered as a godlike figure.

Sweaty and exhausted, Mo Fei dared not venture out again and retreated into his tent. He noticed a table laden with food he had not seen earlier.

“This battle really took a toll. Just looking at the enemy’s two million troops gave me chills,” Mo Fei admitted.

“Brother, are you afraid you can’t defeat them?” Ailin shifted to find a more comfortable position.

“It’s not that I fear losing. Our finest cavalry is here, and over three thousand bear clan mages have joined us. We have every reason to win.”

“Then why are you worried?”

“I don’t want any harm to come to the brothers who believe in me. Besides, if we fight this amassed army openly, it will confirm us as invaders. Then the people of this continent will rise against us. What can we do? Crush them all by force? Erase all opposition on this land? I can’t do that,” Mo Fei sighed.

“So that’s why you feel so tired?”

“Yes.” Mo Fei smiled wryly. “But the ending was perfect. I just sent a few people to their camp and had our cavalry and war machines put on a display. And it worked. I didn’t expect it. I thought it would at best delay the battle a few days or make them cautious, reducing our casualties once fighting began. But this result—this is far better.”

“Maybe our cavalry is just too strong. They truly feared our riders, so they withdrew.”

“Of course,” Mo Fei said proudly. “Our Death Cavalry has never lost a battle, never lost a brother in any war. They are the finest and the strongest.”

“Yes! Our Elven Kingdom owes them a great debt. With them, our kingdom is safer,” Ailin said gratefully.

“The Elven Kingdom is my home too. They are my brothers, so of course they protect you, my little sister,” Mo Fei said affectionately, stroking Ailin’s hair.

“I know, I know. Cain and the others care deeply for us elves. Cain is especially worried about me,” Ailin sniffled softly. “I’m so glad to know you all. I’m truly lucky.”

“Knowing you, Ailin, makes me lucky as well,” Mo Fei said, turning to embrace her. He resolved that once this was over, he would go to the Elven Kingdom and ask the queen to give Ailin to him in marriage.

Together, they fell asleep once more in each other’s arms.

At this moment, Cain arrived at the docks. Mo Fei had not activated the spatial teleportation array; Cain had traveled with over thirty newly built warships. After more than a month, they had sailed from the Death Empire’s port to this continent. Along with them came over two hundred thousand imperial infantry. Few berserkers remained among them; most served as company commanders. Cain had brought the Empire’s elite and well-trained soldiers.

“Where’s the young master?” Cain asked, finally at ease upon disembarking. It seemed the great battle had not erupted yet, and he could still catch up.

“The young master is too tired and fell asleep in the tent, in the front camp,” came the reply.

“Any sign of the enemy?”

Cain relaxed further upon hearing Mo Fei was safe.

“The enemy?” The berserker who greeted Cain paused, then laughed. “The young master scared them off. We’re getting ready to withdraw. Hey, boss, you didn’t fill all these ships with brothers, did you?”

“Ah, that’s it? I brought a whole bunch of brothers over, and it ends just like that?” Cain’s wide eyes opened in disbelief.

“Yeah, it’s over. The young master said we can all go home tomorrow,” the berserker said proudly.

“The young master is the young master. With him around, nothing is ever ordinary. But why am I always so surprised?” Cain muttered to himself.

What should have been a perilous bloodbath was resolved without a fight, thanks to Mo Fei’s brilliant strategy. A routine cavalry display was all it took to end the conflict.