"Hell... hell has descended..." "Oh, God... save your devout followers..."
Amidst the chaotic battlefield, cries and screams intertwined, with so even kneeling and praying, seeking salvation from the gods. However, it was all in vain...
The direction where Rickman and his group were situated beca a primary target, with around ten airships ceaselessly bombarding them.
Those aristocrats who once boasted and planned how to please the new king were now filled with regret, wishing their horses could sprout six legs to lead them away from the rain of fire...
Even Joyce wasn't an exception; sensing the danger, he fled with his own troops! However, even this couldn't outrun the rain of fire descending from the sky. Sparks quickly fell upon him, so landing on his sturdy armor while others seeped through the crevices, penetrating his body.
A surge of intense pain and burning sensation surged through Joyce, contorting his face montarily. Yet, he forcibly suppressed it; the will to survive overca everything.
The grim fate of those soldiers had already made it clear to him that this fire couldn't be extinguished by conventional ans. Now, the only option was to escape the range of this fiery onslaught and seek treatnt for the injuries.
Despite enduring the scorching pain, the horse beneath Joyce couldn't withstand it, emitting a piercing neigh. It forcefully threw off the count above, twisting its body and galloping away without looking back...
"Horse, my horse!"
Dazed and disoriented from the fall, Joyce shouted hoarsely. He attempted to rise from the ground with all limbs, but a hand firmly grasped his thigh, dragging him back.
Startled, Joyce turned to find Duke Rickman behind him. It was evident that Rickman had fallen from his horse as well, but his condition was even worse, with a mass of flesh and blood on his back, seemingly trampled by a warhorse...
"Joyce... you traitorous scoundrel, a pawn of Hatar!" Rickman's eyes blazed red, his expression fierce, as if he intended to devour Joyce alive.
"Let go, release !" At a critical mont, Joyce disregarded the other's identity, frantically kicking at Rickman's head.
Rickman firmly clutched Joyce's thigh; his spine was already broken. With the bishops and priests preoccupied, there was no possibility of escaping the range of the rain of fire.
Even if they managed to flee to the capital, this shaful defeat would ruin them entirely.
After all, over ten thousand armored soldiers and two thousand cavalryn, nearly half of the kingdom's elite force, would not be spared by the king, the crown prince, or the church.
In Rickman's eyes, all this was a result of Joyce intentionally concealing information about the wizards. Even in death, he intended to drag Joyce down to hell...
"Get off !" Shouting frantically, Joyce drew his long knife, severing Rickman's right hand grasping his thigh.
In this delay, the next wave of fire had already descended from above...
"Let's go to hell together, Joyce..." Rickman scread madly.
"The damned one is you!" Joyce dragged Rickman over, intending to use him as a shield to evade the imminent danger. But how could Rickman allow him? Two noble figures grappled on the battlefield, consud by the falling rain of fire...
...
"So terrifying in its power..."
From afar, Philip watched the battlefield engulfed in smoke and flas. Although they had experinted with this kind of weapon using beasts before, the actual effect on humans was unexpectedly dreadful.
As the commander of the musketeers, Rowen couldn't help but feel imnsely moved. He had previously doubted whether a war could end without any casualties.
The scene before them undoubtedly proved otherwise. Lynn had provided him with a real lesson on how to wage war when possessing absolute firepower.
However, these weapons seed a bit too dreadful...
"This is war. Kindness to enemies often equals cruelty to oneself!" Lynn's expression remained unchanged, indicating a preditated understanding.
White phosphorus might be sowhat inhumane, but it was what they had. It was the best thod to undermine the opponent's morale.
Lynn wasn't aware of what kind of divine magic those priests were preparing. However, if these people didn't choose to retreat, it ant Duke Rickman still believed they had a chance of winning.
In that case, even if they ultimately triumphed, it would undoubtedly result in significant casualties.
"Lynn, shall we pursue now?" Raydell hurriedly inquired. He hadn't participated in many wars, but even an inexperienced person could see that it was an excellent opportunity to expand their victory.
However, the few wizard masters didn't seem to be giving any commands, causing Raydell so anxiety.
"No, there's no need for further pursuit. So of the cavalry has already escaped, and we may not be able to prevent them from conveying the situation here to the capital." Lynn shook his head, refuting the suggestion.
Most importantly, he didn't state that these fus were highly toxic!
Before the smoke dispersed, entering it rashly would likely result in death without even knowing how it happened... It wouldn't distinguish between friend and foe!
Moreover, this army had already suffered heavy losses, and there was no possibility of further fighting. Fear would forever take root in their hearts.
"Looks like this war wasn't as difficult as the council mbers had imagined," Orlando remarked casually.
During previous wizard etings in Greenreel, those council mbers always wore looks of concern, as if disaster were imminent in the land of wizards. So even suggested finding a new sanctuary at sea, just in case.
Now, it seed that the empire was nothing more than having a larger population. If they were to arm the more than twenty thousand new troops from the land of wizards, these people were nothing more than chickens and dogs.
Surely, this victory would greatly boost morale...
"Let's not be too complacent. This ti, we just caught them off guard. The battles ahead might not be so easy," Lynn reminded them. Most importantly, their real adversary wasn't these soldiers with swords and bows but the one on high... a god!
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