Chapter 651: 654. Too reckless
"Madn! A bunch of madn!"
Yennefer’s fingertips emitted arcs of cobalt lightning. As she cursed like a shrew, she launched the lightning with precision, hitting her target with the highest level of spellcasting skill.
It was a southern male Warlock; Yennefer’s lightning first shredded the Magic Missile he cast, then landed on him directly.
The cobalt arc spread, paralyzing him and a dozen Niflgaard soldiers around him in spasms.
In this high-intensity battlefield, a dozen paralyzed and stiffened n were like small sand dunes washed away by the waves, disappearing in an instant.
After the Niflgaard Warlocks entered the fray, the killing efficiency of the Northern Warlocks greatly diminished.
Because they had no choice but to divert so of their spellcasting focus to engage in Magic duels with the enemy Warlocks.
"Tishaya, protect Triss! She overdid it just now!"
Yennefer again sought assistance from ’Tishaya’ through telepathy. Triss had initially displayed unmatched killing efficiency, but it was achieved by overloading Chaos Magic Power.
Though she recovered slightly after a break, dealing with regular humans went fine; however, now in the phase of Magic duels, she seed lacking in strength.
"Isn’t Rita Nid approaching you guys? Where the hell is she?"
’Tishaya’ scread in frustration through telepathy.
"Rita Nid is already dead! She was almost rushed by the Niflgaard people just now, then instinctively used her best spell in a panic. You know what that is..."
"The Transfiguration Spell... that stupid woman!"
The Transfiguration Spell, a spell that can shrink creatures into palm-sized statues, but if the affected stays in the statue state too long, irreversible kidney damage occurs, potentially leading to death.
The spell is powerful, but undoubtedly lacks large-scale destructive power, entirely unsuitable for battlefield environnts, and due to its high level, consus a lot of energy.
Rita Nid used the spell subconsciously, draining her Magic Power to the low, and was subsequently killed.
The battle result was rely turning a dozen Niflgaard people into little statues.
"But I can’t do anything! The people around
are dying too!"
Yennefer heard ’Tishaya’s’ telepathy, which was tinged with sobs.
Death was everywhere, and no one could take care of anyone else.
The battlefield’s brutality far exceeded the imagination of these pampered high-level Warlocks.
In fact, such a magnitude and intensity of war had rarely occurred since humanity’s appearance in this world!
So far, the only Warlock able to provide large-scale destructive power continuously was perhaps Viggo Fortez.
Not only was he a Warlock, but he was also a Heaven Controller who had studied with Druids for a long ti.
Under his vast Mana, the clouds over Mushroom Mountain showed no sign of dissipating from start to finish!
Bright blue lightning occasionally appeared, plowing back and forth in areas where Niflgaard people gathered, like tilling the fields.
Soil and rocks exploded and lted under the lightning, not to ntion human armor and bodies.
Every bolt of lightning could kill dozens of people.
However, even such a Mage seed to have a limit to his strength.
After yet another control of the lightning, the clouds above finally started to thin.
With his Elite Shield Guard continually relocating to maintain spellcasting focus, Viggo Fortez looked pale, showing signs of overconsumption.
"I’ve used too much of my Magic Power, protect
well."
The handso Great Mage instructed the Shield Guard Captain, who nodded solemnly. Though Druids were often seen as strange people living in isolation, they were at least more accepted than Wizards by the populace.
But after instructing the captain, Viggo Fortez’s gaze seed to penetrate the mountain, looking to the other side of the hill.
You have begun as well.
Viggo Fortez curled his lips into a subtle smile.
Very well, let
see what ’thing’ you truly are.
His sharp, sparkling eyes were unlike the muddled, nauseated appearance of a Warlock whose Magic Power was exhausted.
-----------------
"Basic decision was correct, but execution has issues."
Lann glanced over the current state of the battle on Mushroom Mountain and understood why the Northern Alliance had such difficulty and struggle in annihilating a group of routed soldiers.
"Veltrest and Vizimir were too impatient; they’ve never besieged such a scale of routed soldiers on the battlefield before, so they didn’t even leave an exit, sealing off the entire mountaintop and valley!"
Saying this, Lann shook his head.
"Too reckless."
Beside him, Lincoln pondered that humans had fought such level of wars only a few tis overall, so being reckless seed normal. But if the commander says so, he must be right.
"Sealing all exits, these routed soldiers, on the contrary, will be driven by the desire for survival and hocoming, rekindling the most basic cohesion."
"They should have left an exit, continually setting up checkpoints and encircling the road following it, leaving another exit. With successive repetitions, weaken the numbers of routed soldiers gradually without triggering their desire to resist, thus preserving the most of the enemy’s combat power."
Lincoln was sowhat puzzled but understood the general idea.
"So, Sir... should we send soone to remind the two Kings?"
"Remind them?" Lann raised an eyebrow at his adjutant, "What bloody good is reminding them now? This should have been planned before the battle began, to be deployed after victory."
"Now? Which Great Mage could conjure up several outposts from nowhere?"
With a ’click’, Lincoln and the fifty-nine ’Embers’ behind him instantly shifted their expressions.
In almost an instant, they transitioned from a casual conversation to a murderous combat stance.
Because Lann had already hefted the Flowing Sword onto his shoulder.
The ’click’ was the sound of the sword’s heavy blade pressing against the pauldron, where the armor’s links and lining collided and rubbed together.
"There’s always a way when there’s no ti left."
Lann shook his neck from side to side, making joint-cracking sounds.
Those cat eyes coldly observed the battle on Mushroom Mountain.
"Raise the Lion Banner of Sintra, ti to enter the fray..."
"A bunch of routed soldiers driven by the desire to survive... let
see how much effort it will take to break them."
Instantly, the ’Embers’ behind him raised their lances and drew their longswords on horseback.
The clashing and scraping of steel on steel created a suppressive and murderous atmosphere.
A Knight placed the blue lion flag of Sintra on a lance, serving as a symbol of the Northern Alliance.
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