165. Defeat

Those sixty Bear-clan mages were still the first to launch an attack. By now, alongside the four thousand Bear-clan mages who had joined later, the total force of seven thousand mages had grown accustomed to following the lead of these initial sixty. Without any formal designation, these sixty Bear mages had naturally become the leaders of the entire spellcasting corps.

One only had to witness their bombardment to understand its sheer terror. With their hands raised high toward the heavens and lips chanting incessantly, they cast fireballs—no, a better word would be a net of fire. The uninterrupted stream of fireballs from these sixty Bear mages wove a blazing net that completely sealed off the wide expanse of terrain right in front of the battle line. While the other mages still required incantations with brief momentary gaps between casts, these seven thousand mages had gradually established a staggered rhythm. In short, no sooner had the first wave of fireballs descended than the next wave would plunge from the sky, weaving a fatal web of fire across the front of the two armies. The enemy vanguard—a massive host of over three hundred thousand soldiers—was systematically mowed down in batches by this continuous barrage, only to be obliterated once again in the very spot where they fell under the next wave of fiery bombardment.

The range of the mages' assault was extending. Kane had not yet heard the battle chime signaling the Young Master’s command to charge, and he could not help feeling a rising surge of anxiety. He kept lifting his head and straining his ears, terrified of missing the opening moment of the assault.

Under the terrifying onslaught of the mages, the enemy troops wore expressions of utter terror. No matter how fiercely their frontline commanders whipped them into position behind, they no longer dared to mount the suicidal charges of the earlier troops. What lay before their eyes was nothing short of a literal hell of death; anyone who crossed that invisible line was destined for certain doom.

Just as Kane was growing frantic with waiting, the Death Iron Cavalry of the Empire, who had been away on distant campaigns for a long time, heard once more the sharp, familiar whistling sound of bolt-throwers cutting through the air.

At Mo Fei's command, over three thousand ballistas that had rushed to the battlefield unleashed an even more soul-shattering shriek. A net of giant bolts pierced through the ranks of the enemy troops who had managed to escape the mages' kill zone, stringing them together in gruesome rows. As those soldiers drew their dying breaths, they were horrified to discover that the massive bolts skewering their bodies had actually passed straight through the chests of the comrades standing right in front of them.

The cavalry formations began to advance, closely followed by the mages. After covering a certain distance, the mages resumed their bombardment. By this time, the bulk of the enemy's main center force, which had been standing there in a daze, found themselves directly exposed within the effective range of the spells as catastrophe rained down from the skies.

At the sound of the horns, the Imperial Allied legions on both flanks rapidly unfurled outward. Under Mo Fei’s command, the Imperial army now resembled a giant eagle extending two lethal iron talons, glaring with predatory intent at its prey.

The enemy had never before witnessed such a dazzling yet lethal style of warfare. They had always been the ones to sweep over their adversaries like a crushing tidal wave; never did they imagine that today, they would be the ones consumed by an enemy using a method they had never even seen before.

No, to be precise, those soldiers among them who had fled back in defeat from the Imperial mainland had indeed witnessed this terrifying style of warfare. However, those defeated remnants had not been assigned to frontline combat. As a discredited army, they were now relegated to the rear, tasked purely with guard duties and supply lines for the front. They had long since lost the trust of the newly appointed legion commanders.

In truth, had those veteran soldiers who had witnessed the mages' combat methods been present, they might have promptly recognized the tactical intent behind the Death Empire's assault, and the enemy's initial casualties might not have been so catastrophic. Yet, the brutal penal system of the Dark Continent regarding defeated armies destined them to be pushed back into the second line. Unless in dire necessity, they would never set foot on a battlefield again.

Seeing the enemy begin to rout, Mo Fei promptly issued the command for a full-scale assault.

Behind Mo Fei, with a single wave of his hand, twelve signaling arrows streaked into the sky. The crisp, resonant chiming of the arrow-bells echoed across the firmament—the imperial grand army's signal for an all-out offensive.

It had been a long time since the more than one hundred thousand Death Iron Cavalry of the Death Empire had experienced such an exhilarating battle. The moment the signaling chimes rang out, that earth-shaking roar—one the enemy had already grown intimately familiar with—reverberated once more. Launching a desperate, all-out charge, the Death Iron Cavalry swept forward like a howling gale, perfectly coordinated with the advancing infantry.

Before the Imperial Allied forces arrived, the cavalry had never dared to unleash their full combat capabilities in any prior engagement. To avoid being sucked into the quagmire of the enemy's human-wave tactics, they had always been forced to hold something back in reserve. Now, supported by the formidable imperial infantry, they finally let the enemy taste the catastrophic, terrifying consequences of a cavalry force operating at absolute, unrestrained capacity—a nightmare of devastation that those survivors would never, in all their living days, be able to forget.

Under the ferocious charge of the imperial iron cavalry, the enemy formation was cleaved straight down the middle. As the cavalry plunged deep into one of the fractured enemy columns, the trailing infantry rapidly flooded into the blood-drenched corridor carved out by the horsemen, completely sealing the enemy within an inescapable encirclement.

Had it not been for the preliminary softening-up attacks by the mages and ballistas that shattered the enemy vanguard, and had the cavalry not subsequently swept clean the enemy's center, the foe would still have held a numerical advantage, making it impossible for the allied infantry to enclose them with such effortless efficiency.

Amidst the "blooming flower" breakthrough tactics executed by the Death Iron Cavalry, the encircled enemy on the right flank quickly crumbled into total disarray. Their will to resist withered away, transforming the engagement into a one-sided slaughter by the Imperial Allied forces.

The soldiers of the Imperial Allied forces, having witnessed the horrific atrocities inflicted by these very enemies upon the small empires of the Imperial mainland, showed no mercy. They did not soften their blades simply because the enemy had largely abandoned their resistance; for such brutal adversaries, total annihilation was the most fitting destination.

………………

Udos Naping, trapped deep within the dense enemy encirclement, had kept his eyes fixed toward the direction of the docks ever since the fighting began. He had witnessed the net of fire plunging from the heavens when the mages attacked, and he had heard the thunderous roaring sound rolling across the plains—the unmistakable roar of the Death Empire's iron cavalry launching their assault.

Yet, when this very same iron cavalry had previously raced to reinforce him, he had never heard such a wildly exultant battle cry. What kind of sound was that? Was it the joyful sound of shackles completely cast off? Indeed, they no longer needed to hold back reserves to ensure an orderly retreat; this was the sound of warriors fighting unburdened, pouring every ounce of their strength into a full-force onslaught.

Udos’s heart was filled with conflicting emotions.

As long as this iron cavalry existed, his Bear clan would never be able to claim the spotlight, no matter the circumstances.

This train of thought naturally led Udos to Mo Fei—the young man he addressed as "Big Brother." The talent of this "Big Brother" was something Udos could never hope to match. In a mere span of days, he had forged an invincible army. Even the formidable Bear-clan forces had repeatedly tasted defeat at their hands, and to top it all off, Mo Fei’s troops had thrust a sharp dagger right into the Bear clan's own heartland.

They were coming. They were actually coming...

Listening to the thunderous approach, Udos found it hard to believe. That massive enemy host was marching toward the docks right under his very nose, and Udos was painfully aware of just how vast that enemy force was.

With a mere million or so men, in less than a day, they had wiped out an enemy force more than twice their own size. What kind of terrifying power was this? Were they truly caught unprepared and driven into the sea by these enemies the last time?

The enemy forces besieging the city had also realized something was terribly wrong. Two and a half million troops... and yet they were somehow failing to stop a mere one hundred thousand cavalry? Had this cavalry broken out of their encirclement, or—?

It was impossible. They certainly hadn't imagined—nor could they possibly have conceived—that a cavalry force of only one hundred thousand could devour two and a half million men in less than a day. However, the supreme enemy commander knew better; he had long since received a message from the commander of that intercepted force. The enemy troops stationed at the docks consisted of far more than just those one hundred thousand horsemen—they also possessed an infantry force numbering well over a million.

Yet, upon hearing this familiar, roaring battle cry draw near, he knew for a certainty that his surprise detachment at the docks must have been wiped out. Swallowing a bitter pill, he calculated the odds: now that the two enemy factions had converged, their troop strength was roughly equivalent to his own. Could he still keep fighting? Should he seize the moment right after they had just fought a brutal, exhausting battle and order a full-force charge against their weary troops? Or should he order a retreat?

Hesitation gripped him. With the enemy cavalry fast approaching, if he failed to make a decision soon, a vicious, desperate battle was inevitable. But if he ordered a retreat now... was it even possible to pull back in time?

One thing was certain: maintaining the siege was no longer an option. The supreme enemy commander issued the order to assemble. The frontline commanders, who had already completed the encirclement, had no choice but to pull back the troops preparing to scale the walls and rapidly redeploy them toward the main city gate.

The moment Udos saw the enemy lift the siege, he knew today would be the day of the decisive battle.

Udos immediately issued the order for his forces to prepare to sally forth from the city. Now, all he was waiting for was the arrival of Mo Fei.

Mo Fei did not keep Udos waiting long. Accompanied by the seven thousand mages, he leisurely strolled up behind the infantry formations.

Kane’s cavalry was already locked in a direct, face-to-face standoff with the enemy.

Before the infantry caught up, the enemy forces simply did not dare to initiate an attack against this cavalry division.

Now, the Imperial Allied infantry and ballistas had all arrived. They formed a grand, crescent-shaped battle array centered around the cavalry, with the seven thousand mages arrayed in a square formation directly behind the horsemen.

Across the field, the enemy still outnumbered Mo Fei’s forces by nearly a million men.

Mo Fei knew, and Udos knew as well, that once they swallowed up this multi-million-strong enemy host, whatever remained would merely be a matter of mopping up scattered local factions.

The Bear-clan army had originally intended to form a unified battle array alongside Mo Fei’s Imperial Allied forces, but Mo Fei had flatly refused. He was not only concerned that differing combat doctrines might throw his own ranks into confusion, but he also had to guard against the possibility of Udos sinking a knife into his back. If that happened, caught fighting on two fronts, very few of the Imperial Allied soldiers would ever make it home alive.

While one should harbor no intent to harm others, one must never lower their guard against them.

This motto, which Mo Fei so frequently had on his lips, was something he never forgot.

Right now was the absolute optimal moment for a decisive battle. If Udos were to pull a stunt like that at a critical juncture, the Bear clan would indeed be left without any worries for the future.

Mo Fei was certainly no fool.