Chapter 221: Chapter 108: Total Victory: Lynch the Diabolical Strategist
On both flanks of the Sea of Skulls were more than three hundred fully armed human Soldiers, holding the banners of the Ninth Battle Battalion. Their expressions were solemn, swords drawn and crossbows strung, ready for battle at a moment’s notice.
Because they saw Skeleton Soldiers every day and had considerable faith in their battalion commander, Lord Lynch, these human Soldiers, far from having their morale lowered by fighting alongside the Undead Corps, were instead full of vigor and high spirits.
What made Angus’s scalp tingle with even more dread was...
Under the moonlight.
At the forefront of the Undead Army, several figures with exceptionally powerful auras were particularly conspicuous.
There was the Purple Zombie Corpse Demon, standing three and a half meters tall with a terrifying presence; the menacing Purple Zombie, Bloodfang; the Tier Three Skeleton Guard, Bone Jade, with its ferocious frame; the Skeleton Bow and Arrow Guard, Bone Yuji, holding a giant bow; the Skeleton Mage, Bone Fa, with its deep and profound Soul Fire; and the newly converted Soul Fire Skeleton, Bone Scar, carrying a bone axe...
Each of these powerful Undead Units was a testament to the fact that this was not merely an Undead Corps of Low Tier cannon fodder like Skeleton Servants. This was a proper Undead Corps, with generals, with mid-to-low-level Skeleton officers in command—a tightly structured and clearly stratified army!
And this enemy force, totaling over a thousand, had surged forward like a tide of death, completely surrounding the two to three hundred isolated soldiers who had crossed the river!
There were no war cries, no calls for surrender.
Only the silent advance of the Undead and the cold killing intent in the eyes of the Ninth Battle Battalion’s Soldiers.
"N-No! Don’t!"
"We surrender! We surrender!"
"Spare us!"
The isolated soldiers completely broke.
Desperate cries and pleas for mercy drifted over on the night wind.
Angus stared at the opposite bank, his body chilled to the bone, his eyes burning with helpless rage.
The two to three hundred soldiers he had sent across were swiftly engulfed, like lambs thrown to a pack of wolves.
In just a short time.
Under the watchful eyes of their allies on the other side of the river, the isolated detachment was slaughtered to the last man.
The world spun around Angus. He barely managed to stay on his feet by grabbing the neck of his warhorse.
’It’s over.’
In just a few short hours, his army of twelve to thirteen hundred had first lost over twenty elites on the broken bridge, then another two to three hundred thanks to Craig, and now he had just watched as two to three hundred more elites were annihilated across the river...
His remaining forces numbered less than seven hundred, and their morale had hit rock bottom. Endless fear was etched on every man’s face.
’How can we possibly fight this war?’
Forget about capturing Lakefront Town; the question now was whether they could even make it back to Rock Fortress alive.
’That Necromancer named Lynch... His schemes run so deep, his linked stratagems so vicious!’
From the moment his Scouts were harassed, every single move he had made had been within his enemy’s calculations! He was like a puppet on a string, led by the nose step by step into this desperate situation.
A desperate sense of defeat consumed him.
But as a former Knight of the Empire, his years in the military had forged a powerful resilience. Even now, he relied on sheer willpower to forcibly suppress the turbulent emotions churning in his mind.
’I can’t lose my composure. If I panic now, it’s all over.’
He took several deep breaths of the cold night air, forcing himself to calm down.
As things stood, there was only one path left for him—
Retreat!
’I must lead my troops in a swift retreat back to Rock Fortress while Lynch’s forces have yet to cross the river, and mount a defense from within its sturdy walls.’
’There’s a small garrison and reserve supplies there. If I hold the fortress, I can stabilize our position and wait for a potential turnaround or reinforcements.’
’But if we stay out here in the open, facing that devious opponent who can summon Undead at will, there’s only one path for us: death.’
"Pass the order!" Angus’s hoarse voice rang out. "All troops, listen up! Abandon the river crossing! Assemble immediately and return the way we came! Retreat to Rock Fortress!"
"Move quickly, and stay alert."
"Anyone who disobeys will be executed."
The order was quickly passed down the line.
The Soldiers, already terrified and having lost all will to fight, reacted as if granted a general amnesty. They hastily began to assemble, the rear guard becoming the vanguard, and started a frantic retreat back toward Rock Fortress along the path they had come.
In the darkness, the retreat of the defeated Blue Scarf army was chaotic and wretched.
The army of twelve hundred that had arrived with fluttering banners and an imposing air was now a defeated remnant of less than seven hundred. Everyone had cast aside their helmets and armor, their faces a mask of lingering shock and terrified unease.
The entire formation was sparse and straggling. From time to time, soldiers would vanish into the dark mountain forests along the road, either from exhaustion or by deliberately falling behind.
Even the officers’ shouts of reprimand sounded feeble, and morale was on the verge of complete collapse.
Truly, the more ambitious and majestic they had been upon their arrival, the more frantic, miserable, and pathetic their retreat was now—like a pack of beaten dogs.
Angus Fisher sat on his horse, his face ashen, not speaking a word.
Even the cold night wind could not extinguish the flames of frustration and humiliation burning in his heart.
The scenes of tonight’s encounter replayed endlessly in his mind.
The assault on his Scouts, the provocation by the lone rider, the deceptive feint, the goading that led him to split his forces, the obstacle of the broken bridge, the destruction of the pontoon bridge, the annihilation of his men from across the river... Every single step seemed to have been precisely calculated by that Necromancer, Lynch.
His prized caution had become a tool the enemy used to stall for time.
Craig’s greed and impatience had become the opening the enemy exploited to divide and conquer.
He was like a bull being led by the nose into a slaughterhouse, full of strength but with no way to use it, forced to watch as his companions were taken down one by one.
"Almost there... We’re almost there..." Angus could only comfort himself and his remaining soldiers this way. "Once we’re back at Rock Fortress, we can regroup. We’ll have sturdy walls to rely on..."
Comments