Chapter 327: Chapter 250 Battle of Okaglar (III)
Here in Erezer, there were all sorts of miraculous spells. These spells ranged from the smallest, such as cleaning and emitting weak light, to the largest, like flying and changing the world’s environnt permanently.
In a certain sense, the level of magic in a country reflected its standard of living.
But Anzeta Great Wilderness was remote, far from the center of magical academia. The Northern United Kingdom had always been outside the “civilized world” for thousands of years, still in the early stages of a feudal society, just barely erging from ignorance and barbarism. Without the intervention of the Ashen Kingdom and external forces, the Northern Nobility’s rule might have continued for another thousand years.
Despite their tenacity and bravery, these Scania People were like primitives in the face of the kingdom’s military. Standing on the snowfields, they were adept at dealing with giant monsters like wyverns and frost giants, but could not match the systematically organized armies composed of these monsters, equipped with advanced tactics.
On the ground, the kingdom’s cavalry and infantry surged like waves, pounding the allied forces’ defensive line in precise, tactical movents.
In the sky, chiras and bipedal wyverns had gained the upper hand through sheer numbers. Under the continuous influence of dragon blood, they charged fearlessly, roaring and surging forward, causing heavenly creatures to fall back, thereby securing aerial dominance over the battlefield.
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Corpses of wyverns and bodies of heavenly creatures fell continuously, and the sky at that mont resembled a bloody grinding wheel, discarding the lives lost in this brutal slaughter.
“Boom!”
Shadows streaked across the sky, and tallic bombs and flas rained down, tearing through the ground forces’ front lines.
The kingdom’s musket infantry and drake riders would then quickly concentrate their fire on the weak points created by the airstrikes, easily gaining advantages and occupying one key position after another.
Under this kind of coordinated land-air tactic, even with the aid of heavenly creatures and the leadership of noble military commanders, the allied forces were clearly losing ground. Their defenses were collapsing inexorably, visible to any discerning eye— for the kingdom had already secured nearly a hundred ters of frontline on the southern bank of the large river.
As one of the senior commanders of the allied forces, Count Trischka naturally saw the allied forces’ decline.
He stood on high ground, his expression grim as he gazed into the distance, where more and more dragon beasts, great goblins, and ogres appeared on the southern riverbank.
Their command had already beco chaotic. ssengers and noble knights were flustered, unable to relay orders accurately.
After all, they had never experienced a war on such a scale before. A hundred-thousand-strong army, a battle line stretching over ten miles, rely keeping the defensive line intact had taxed them to their limits.
What’s more, the Ashen Kingdom’s forces continued to break through weak points, “wrapping dumplings” around many of the allied forces, isolating them and cutting off communication with the outside world.
Additionally, the kingdom’s elite squads conducted deep strikes, wandering and harassing within the lines, severely disrupting the allied forces’ order.
“No…”
“We cannot go on like this.”
“I must stand up.”
Trischka recalled that mont years ago when, under countless gazes, Duke Leo placed his sword on Trischka’s shoulder and bestowed upon him the title of count.
That had been his life’s glory and an act of kindness he could never forget.
He had originally been the disregarded second son of a minor noble family but had unexpectedly gained the duke’s favor, sent south to study and seen miracles that many Northerners could not witness in a lifeti. Yet, even so, what he could not forget was that fateful encounter that changed his destiny.
Now he knew that even if the future held a grim death, he must stand up to repay the duke’s kindness.
Having traveled widely, Trischka knew that the northern system had many flaws. He had thought about learning from the South to improve the Northerners’ lives.
But in his mind, such changes should co gradually, led by northern nobles from the top down and never through conquest and invasion, nor at the cost of eliminating the nobility.
With this in mind, Trischka donned his helt, mounted his horse, unfurled the Boske Family’s flag, and raised the Silver Sword inscribed with a lion’s head high.
“For the Boske Duchy!”
“For the glory of the Scania People!”
Hundreds of trusted aides followed the count, charging straight toward the kingdom’s main assault direction, where others dared not tread.
On that wilderness, bodies nearly covered the ground, and blood flowed like rivers, yet the count and his fearless aides charged unflinchingly ahead.
…
The brutal slaughter continued on the front lines of the battlefield.
Gunfire whistled, cannons bood, and land dragon beasts roared with deep fury.
“Rah!”
“Boom!”
With a roar and a dull thud, the Natural War Maniac leapt down, splitting the heavily armored skull of the Stalwart Shield Envoy with a single strike of his great axe.
“Hahaha!”
“Fighting, what a thrill!”
The Natural War Maniac laughed wildly, his body drenched in enemy blood, white steam rising from his pores.
Enhanced by the Enlarge Spell, he stood nearly five ters tall, like a small giant among the crowd.
Wielding a three-ter-long, bloodstained great axe, coupled with his dragon-vein-enhanced muscles, he seed less like a player and more like a boss that required collective effort to handle.
Indeed, to the allied soldiers, the Natural War Maniac played precisely that role.
A Level Seven Barbarian occupation, a body with high dragon vein concentration, combined with years of combat experience in imrsive gas allowed him to wreak havoc with his great axe within the allied forces’ defenses, unafraid even when faced with over a dozen attackers.
Suddenly, the urgent sound of hoofbeats approached.
The Natural War Maniac casually tossed aside the broken body in his hand and slowly lifted his head.
He saw heavily armored cavalry charging toward him, led by a figure of exceptional bearing.
The Natural War Maniac wiped the blood off his face carelessly, revealing an excited smile.
—A minor boss, with a high challenge level, worth thousands in faction contribution, might just get him the brand-new “Title of Nobility.”
This was his thought.
Under the heavy helt that revealed only his eyes, Trischka’s expression was solemn. Sweat seeped through his hand gripping the long sword, but he urged his horse forward without hesitation.
—An evil, terrifying monster commander, worthy of his personal engagent and a duel of honor.
Slaying him might delay the kingdom’s advance slightly.
This was Trischka’s thought.
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