Chapter 249: Reclaiming Our Holand: The Battle of Starnight(2)
At the sa ti, arrows and stones rained down like a storm.
Even arrows shot by new recruits carried significant force with the advantage of a ten-ter-high wall. As for accuracy, with the sea of rotting corpses below, one could hit a target even with eyes closed.
"Whoosh, whoosh."
Arrows flew wildly.
A feathered arrow cut through the sky and drove straight into the eye of a corpse dressed like a farmhand. It collapsed stiffly without even managing a groan, foul blood gushing from the wound and pooling into a dark puddle.
Another corpse nearby fared even worse, its head smashed apart by a jagged rock, filth and gore splattering everywhere in an instant.
Large swathes of corpses fell like harvested wheat, trampled underfoot by their own kind as if they were nothing but garbage.
The scene was nothing short of a massacre.
"Roar, roar, roar!"
The corpses were not helpless lambs. Ranged variants quickly retaliated. Their bodies trembled as sharp bone spikes burst from their backs. With the aid of their strange anatomy, they launched them upward toward the wall.
There were thousands of corpses below, and many of them were ranged types. In an instant, they unleashed a reverse rain of projectiles surging toward the battlents.
Cries rang out atop the wall. One unlucky slave leaned too far over the parapet and had his neck pierced by a bone spike.
He made a hissing, leaking sound before stiffening and falling from the wall, only to be torn apart and devoured.
Fortunately, most of the bone spikes were blocked by the wall, leaving only small white marks on the sturdy stone.
"Let
deal with the special corpses."
Ashina and Rosalia both prepared to move at the sa ti.
"No need. My troops can handle this trash."
Phield remained calm. A bone spike suddenly shot toward him, but he reacted instantly, catching it and snapping it in half. "Good thing we took the wall. If we faced them in the open, one volley like that would wipe out most of the slaves."
The corpses began shoving each other, climbing over bodies to stack themselves into towering piles, forming grotesque human ladders.
Among them, higher-tier corpses displayed trendous strength, scaling the wall with bare hands far faster than the ordinary ones building ladders.
"Second squad of the First Army, prepare for combat. Stop them from climbing the wall."
Phield issued the order swiftly, his gaze fixed on the rising corpse piles.
A deep horn sounded.
The battle flag shifted, and the squad leader roared, "Fight for Lord Phield!"
"Fight to the death, never retreat!"
The soldiers surged forward, raising wooden shields overhead and gripping their spears tightly. Bone spikes rained down chaotically, striking shields and occasionally hitting armor, only to bounce off harmlessly.
The difference between armored and unarmored troops was absolute.
"Roar!"
A mutated corpse with scythe-like arms hooked onto the battlents, its crazed, clouded eyes glaring as it tried to climb up. Its gaping maw stretched wide, thrilled at the sight of so many living beings above.
But before it could celebrate—
"Thrust!"
The surrounding soldiers shouted in unison. Seven or eight spears stabbed from different angles, leaving the creature no room to dodge. The sharp tips pierced its body, and it suddenly lost strength, falling back down.
"A first-tier creature. As expected, with terrain advantage, even ranked corpses can be easily killed by ordinary soldiers."
On normal ground, a first-tier corpse could kill more than three trained soldiers.
The fastest climbers barely managed to show their heads before being riddled with holes and tumbling back down.
After sixteen first-tier corpses were killed, a stronger one finally seized the mont and leapt onto the wall. It swung its enhanced arm, smashing one soldier’s head apart, then grabbed another and twisted his arm into a grotesque spiral.
Like plucking a chick, it lifted the wounded soldier, preparing to devour him.
"Monster! You deserve to die!"
The squad leader’s eyes blazed. He drove his halberd straight into the creature’s neck, but when he tried to pull it back, the corpse clamped it with one hand.
Abandoning the weapon, he drew his saber and hacked wildly, like chopping dumpling filling, carving deep, bone-exposing wounds into the corpse’s arm.
Sensing the threat, the corpse raised its fist to crush him, but as it extended its arm, three spears locked it in place.
Seizing the chance, Newt let out a sharp cry and swung horizontally. The heavy blow struck the wounded neck and sent the creature’s head flying.
"Good!"
The surrounding soldiers’ morale surged.
Phield had no intention of standing by. The mont the squad leader killed the corpse, Phield seized the opportunity. The corpse ladder had already reached the height of the wall.
"Now!"
Leaping into the air, he drew the Greatsword of Gluttony from his back. Chains erupted outward like the grasping hands of an abyss, both magnificent and grotesque.
"Endless Severance!"
A vast surge of sword energy howled downward with a tearing wind. The gray-white blade aura stretched several ters, carving curtains through the air.
Every corpse in its path was dragged into the storm, exploding instantly and reduced to fragnts. Blood sprayed wildly, filth splattering everywhere like a storm of gore.
Countless strands of life energy flowed back into the Greatsword of Gluttony.
"That move..."
Alice’s pupils trembled. "Rosalia’s divine skill. It can be released through the wielder?"
As long as Rosalia remained within the artifact, she could unleash Endless Severance, making it appear as though Phield himself was using it.
Alice had once fought Rosalia, and that technique had left a deep impression on her.
Pulled back by the chains, Phield returned to the wall.
Rosalia remained hidden as a covert force. As a true corrupted being, her appearance would damage morale.
Letting out a long breath, Phield felt a wave of relief. "That was probably the most kills Endless Severance has ever made. Too bad the energy cost is insane."
Energy loss was inevitable. Even if the attack dealt maximum damage, the life energy Rosalia absorbed could not match the cost.
If it worked like a perpetual gain, she would have been spamming it nonstop long ago.
The three corpse clusters struck by Endless Severance collapsed entirely, countless bodies crushed or shattered.
Yet along the long wall, three smaller corpse towers continued to climb.
"One, two, three, pour!"
Slaves used poles to tip large cauldrons, dumping scalding water down. Entire swathes of corpses twisted and convulsed as they were burned.
"Black Wolf, Dragonfla!"
"Fire God Butterflies, detonate!"
Drakewolf seized a dense cluster and unleashed surging azure dragonfire.
Though uncontracted, Alice refused to stand idle. She released a swarm of Fire God Butterflies, working to pay off her living expenses.
Explosions erupted everywhere.
The corpse towers clinging to the wall collapsed, bodies crashing down in heaps. The defenders felt the pressure recede like a tide.
As countless corpses were slain, sothing deep within the darkness suddenly opened its eyes.
"The scent of the living. They must be killed."
Inside the lord’s hall of Starnight City, a grotesque, massive stitched corpse roared in fury, forcing the doors open as it erged.
Its disgusting head made strange noises. Hearing the lord’s call, twisted monsters across the city stirred as if reactivated, slowly gathering toward it.
"Where is Acorn?"
No matter how it called, it could not sense the familiar presence of the corrupted Divine Chosen. It did not know that Acorn had already been slain by Rosalia.
The corpse lord roared in confusion, "Acorn, I’m in the hall. Where are you?"
Unable to sense any Divine Chosen, it flew into a rage, grabbing a nearby corpse and biting off half of it.
At its command, all high-tier corpses in the city gathered. There were twelve second-tier corpses, five third-tier, and one newly arrived fourth-tier corrupted hound.
"Kill them all!"
With that order, it led its forces straight toward Phield’s defenses.
"Set it on fire."
On the southern wall, seeing the corpses faltering, the defenders followed Phield’s command. They ignited piles of fuel and hurled them down along with accelerants.
Soon, scattered flas began to glow. The corpses instinctively tried to smother them, but after suffering heavy losses, their nurical advantage had greatly diminished.
Before long, a nauseating stench filled the air. The foul, rotting flesh, scorched by flas, released a sickening odor.
Fortunately, Phield had chosen the wind direction carefully. If the smoke had blown toward them, they would have been choked or overwheld by the stench.
In the dim northern province, faint orange flas lit the horizon, casting a glow across the sky.
Countless corpses were consud by fire, twisting as they fell.
"It’s burning!"
Phield laughed, casually tossing his torch down.
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