Chapter 232: Chapter 198: A Crisis Without Aid
A few miles from Broken City, on a small hill at the edge of the Shadow Forest, flames lit up the night sky as the din of battle raged.
As far as the eye could see, a dense, endless tide of black figures was fiercely charging a contingent of troops on the hill.
Only by the firelight could one make out that these dark figures were Wilderness People of various Races: Lizardmen, Pigmen, Goblins, Kobolds...
Unexpectedly, such a massive Wilderness Robber Gang had been unable to capture the gently sloping hill.
"Master Fu Jin, please, another Magic spell to support the right flank!"
Si Kai cut down a Goblin that had used its small stature to duck under a Minotaur’s legs, trying to jab his groin with a Grass Fork. Glancing around, he immediately roared.
"Sorry, I’m completely out!"
Surrounded by layers of Thorn Corps soldiers at the very center of the formation, Fu Jin shouted with the last of his strength. He didn’t bother to check if Si Kai had heard him; he was already gasping for breath, face pale, his hand trembling as it clutched his Magic Staff.
He looked around, a bleak expression on his face, like a hazelnut beaten to the ground by hail and buried deep in the snow.
Of the one thousand and sixty Warriors, only a little over five hundred remained. They were trapped on this hill, surrounded by the endless Wilderness Alliance Army, like a white sailing ship in a stormy sea, unsure when a great wave might capsize them.
To be honest, if their enemies weren’t Alien Races—if capture didn’t mean being beheaded and eaten—the soldiers would have probably thrown down their weapons and surrendered long ago.
Nearly fifty percent casualties... even the most elite corps from Debei couldn’t withstand such a loss ratio. They would likely start to rout at thirty or forty percent.
As far as Fu Jin knew, the strongest army in history was the Holy Light Knight Order of the Holy Light Church. In their do-or-die battle against the Undead Army, their death toll reached sixty percent. In the end, through sheer, unyielding willpower, they held back the Sea of the Dead, successfully buying precious time for their allies and resolving the Undead Celestial Calamity, an event that left a heavy mark on the pages of history.
But they were not the Holy Light Knight Order, they had no allies, and the enemy they faced was not much different from the Undead Celestial Calamity.
They charged upward one after another, heedless of their own lives, endless and inexhaustible, breeding a relentless despair.
"Dammit, Fujero! What the hell is he doing? I’ve been fighting here for almost a fucking day and haven’t seen a shadow of him."
Si Kai, who never used to curse, had learned a thing or two from his Lord and was now swearing furiously.
According to the plan, Lord Li was to circle around and support the city walls, while they just had to hold their ground here and wait for Fujero’s reinforcements. They would have successfully established a defensive line, a thorn in the enemy’s side.
The plan was sound. They had successfully blocked the Wilderness Alliance Army’s attack. But they had fought from day to night, and not a single one of the Messenger Soldiers sent out had returned.
And there was no sign of the main army they had been desperately waiting for emerging from the Shadow Forest.
It was as if a brothel had magically appeared in the Shadow Forest and they had all run off to screw women.
At this point, "heavy losses" didn’t even begin to cover it. If it weren’t for those Panda People holding back the Minotaurs, they would’ve been wiped out long ago. How could they have lasted until now?
The Wilderness People’s equipment couldn’t compare to the Thorn Corps’—hell, it couldn’t even compare to some rural Militia. It was so shabby that even the stingiest commander would be forced to spit out his embezzled Gold Coins to buy a halfway-decent three-piece militia set for them.
Many of the Minotaurs wore only homemade Beast Hide Armor, which offered protection that was, at best, better than nothing.
And yet, in reality, the better-equipped Thorn Corps had gained no advantage against these beggar-like Minotaurs. The Half-Beastman Warriors were simply too strong.
Roaring, they swung their arms wide to deliver heavy blows. When their crude Iron Hammers struck home, they produced a shower of sparks with an explosive CLANG, as if forging iron. Even the Thorn Corps’ Heavy Armored Infantry, wrapped in Plate Armor like Iron Canisters, were sent reeling and vomiting blood.
But when the opponents changed, the outcome was completely different.
The Panda People, a full size larger and more robust than the Minotaurs, treated them like they were bullying a group of malnourished cousins.
Though both were mighty warriors of Sanren Gao height, the Panda People were clearly built wider. The two behemoths roared and crashed into each other. Black iron met black iron, sparks flew, and blood and flesh splattered, forming streams in the mud. The metallic tang of blood filled the air.
The seemingly invincible Minotaur fell backward, its opponent’s weapon embedded in its face from the impact, all signs of life gone.
In this contest to determine the most valiant Half-Beastman, the Minotaurs met a sorrowful end.
They had discovered that in both Power and Martial Arts, they had to admit they were a step below these black-and-white, deceptively simple-looking brutes.
The main force of this war consisted only of Minotaurs, Pigmen, and Lizardmen.
In comparison, the Goblins seemed fierce—one even nearly accomplished the grand feat of taking an enemy commander’s ’family jewels’ right in the middle of the army—but their actual performance only proved why Vassals were Vassals.
Faced with the Thorn Corps’ heavy Plate Armor, their clumsy attacks were like tickles. They were, in every sense of the word, cannon fodder.
The only reason the Wilderness Alliance Army brought them along was because they jumped and scrambled about, distracting the human Warriors.
The current situation was this: nearly three to four thousand of the Wilderness’s motley army were besieging the five to six hundred teetering soldiers of the Thorn Corps on the hill.
In truth, their numbers were far greater, but the terrain could only support so many attackers at once; the rest couldn’t be deployed.
As for how many more were in the rear, back in the Wilderness, Levi couldn’t see. The goose-feather snow falling from the sky blocked his view.
"The situation is a little better than I expected."
Levi clipped the telescope to the back of his belt, looked down at Heather, and grinned, showing a mouth full of white teeth.
With an easy leap, he jumped from her shoulder onto the snow beside her.
"My Lord, did you really have to stand on my shoulder to see clearly?"
’Heather’s face was full of resentment. If looks could kill, her Lord would have already been sliced into a thousand pieces, thrown into a Dwarven forge hammer, smashed into a meat paste, and fused with a red-hot iron.’
"You don’t get it? The higher you stand, the farther you see. Forget it, why am I explaining this to a military idiot anyway?" The Lord waved his hand dismissively and began to put on his Iron Armor by himself.
He had rushed over in a great hurry to save time. But now, seeing that Si Kai and Panda could still hold on for a while, the Lord was no longer in such a rush.
’Heather gritted her teeth in frustration. Watching his back, she had a strong urge to smash a Shaping Magic spell right into his forehead.’
"What are you just standing there gawking for? Not a lick of sense. Get over here and help your lord put on his armor!" Levi suddenly turned, his face full of displeasure.
Under the dim moonlight, the Zor Elf smiled. Even the strictest etiquette master from Debei would not have been able to find any fault with her composure. "Of course, my Lord."
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