Chapter 183: Plummeting (Part 2)

  Judah's army of ten thousand, including several thousand of the most elite heavy knights in the allied army, had been completely annihilated by Oufu's forces in a single encounter. The blow to the allied army's morale from this news was almost devastating. All the allied army units in the rear immediately halted their advance. The battle, which they had thought they held an absolute advantage in, had turned into a one-sided slaughter. Only a few stragglers at the rear were able to escape back to the main allied army, and the news they brought back was an even greater blow than the battle itself.

  The soldiers were still immersed in a state of unbelievable panic. They only had a vague understanding of this disastrous defeat. The generals above remained tight-lipped about the specific details of the battle, and even the soldiers who had escaped were strictly forbidden to speak of it. All the generals of the allied army immediately gathered for a military conference, and also invited the three Great Mages and five High Priests from the allied army.

  "Just a single magic spell annihilated the entire heavy knight order?" The expressions of the Great Mages and High Priests were as if they were listening to a fairy tale.

  "Yes. Within the range of the magic, including the three commanders of the heavy knight order, no one was spared. A total of about six thousand men were lost. Then, Oufu's forces took the opportunity to charge. The morale of the remaining troops had already completely collapsed, and only a few dozen managed to escape."

  "The three commanders of Judah were battle-hardened. Even if they were slightly inferior to a Temple Knight, they were still much stronger than an ordinary Templar. The three of them working together might even be able to match Lord Lancelot. It is absolutely impossible for warriors of their caliber to be defeated by just any random magic spell. So, I would like to ask the three Great Mages, could this be the legendary..."

  The mages and priests looked at each other. One of the Great Mages nodded and said in a hoarse voice, "It's a Forbidden Spell-level magic. To be able to cover such a large area of six thousand people, it could only be a Forbidden Spell-level magic."

  "But... Sedros could absolutely not be capable of using a Forbidden Spell."

  "Even if he could, he wouldn't use it. He is the leader of Oufu, after all."

  "But besides him, who else in Oufu could use such high-level grand magic?"

  "Perhaps... he used some other means..."

  A general interrupted the mages, saying, "Three masters, can you tell us the detailed situation? What on earth is going on? If the soldiers find out that the beastmen have mastered Forbidden Spell magic, I'm afraid their morale will be beyond our control. And... if Oufu truly possesses such power, then everything must be reconsidered... perhaps... we must retreat."

  Under the destructive power of a Forbidden Spell, which transcends all limits, no matter how elite or how numerous the soldiers, no matter how powerful the warriors, they are no different from ants. The concept of war undergoes an essential change with the intervention of such power. Soldiers dying in a fierce battle is one thing, but being sacrificed meaninglessly, one after another, like ants under a raging fire, is another matter entirely.

  The High Priests immediately shook their heads and said, "Impossible. It is impossible for Oufu to have mastered this kind of magic. Any Forbidden Spell must require the ability to cultivate two or more schools of magic to the pinnacle, and then, through mutual resonance during casting, produce a power that transcends ordinary magic. Looking across the entire continent, the number of mages who can cultivate two schools of magic to the pinnacle, including His Majesty the Pope and the Necromancer of Diya Valley, will absolutely not exceed ten. And Sedros is definitely not among those ten. Although he is also a top-tier Archmage, he is only skilled in magic arrays, casting techniques, and mid-to-high level magic of all schools. He has not cultivated any single school of magic to its absolute peak, so there is no way he could cast a Forbidden Spell."

  "And the most critical factor restricting a Forbidden Spell is that the magical vibrations produced when it is used are also difficult for the human body to withstand. Even for the most brilliant caster, the physical burden of simultaneously controlling two schools of magic is unimaginable. After successfully casting the spell, even if they don't die, their magical ability will drop significantly. Unless it's a legendary monster like a dragon or a Lich, it's possible to release a Forbidden Spell without self-harm. Therefore, while mages who can use a Forbidden Spell are not nonexistent, those who are willing to sacrifice their own magical power to use one are truly rare. Thus, there has been no record of anyone using a Forbidden Spell on the continent for decades."

  The generals all nodded, but they were even more confused. One general asked, "Then how do you explain this situation? This kind of magic, which should only be used in a desperate situation, appeared in the very first contact battle with the beastmen. This is truly illogical... or could it be a Forbidden Spell magic scroll?"

  A High Priest thought for a moment and said, "It is indeed possible to create a Forbidden Spell scroll. It is said that by using the most top-tier Magical Jade as the core and having several mages temper it with a special magic array, the power of a Forbidden Spell can be sealed. But... this method seems to only exist in the records of ancient texts. Two hundred years ago, His Majesty the Pope at the time, along with four Cardinals, created a combined Light and Fire school Forbidden Spell scroll, 'Purgatory Paradise,' to deal with the Nighon forces. But the value of that most top-tier Magical Jade is no less than that of the Star-Eye used as the core for a teleportation magic array. Both are priceless, rare treasures..."

  "Oufu should have already established a teleportation magic array. This means they have Star-Eyes, and they are indeed very close to the Sanderfirth Mountains... Could it be that they..."

  "But even with such materials, the creation is the real difficulty. Not to mention that the creator's own magical power must be sufficient to cast this Forbidden Spell, but the standard of the several assisting mages must also be at the same level. On the continent today, besides The Radiant Citadel... perhaps the Tower of Fangs could do it... and then there's... Diya Valley."

  "Diya Valley?" All the priests and mages reflexively gasped, and a priest immediately asked, "What kind of magic was it?"

  A general briefly recounted what the soldiers who had escaped had reported. Although this soldier, who was at the very rear of the unit, had not seen the situation clearly, these descriptions were sufficient to identify the magic.

  The three mages nodded simultaneously with extremely grim expressions and said, "It's not an elemental-based destructive magic. It seems it's indeed not the work of the mages from the Tower of Fangs..."

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  Everyone fell silent. This line of reasoning seemed to be slowly pushing the possibility of the problem to a more and more serious level. If Diya Valley, the most mysterious and terrifying organization of mages on the continent, was behind Oufu, then everything had to be re-evaluated.

  Not a single general here was the type to be frightened by skeletons and zombies or Necromancy. Generals on the battlefield only consider what kind of combat power and what kind of fighting methods the enemy has. But it is precisely because of this that they would be even more wary. The most terrifying terror is the terror of the unknown.

  After a long while, a general slowly spoke, "Let's not discuss for now who is behind this. Oufu used such a terrifying power as a Forbidden Spell right at the beginning of the battle. This can only mean two things. One, they are not limited to using it just once. Or perhaps they have even more terrifying trump cards, so they don't need to save this Forbidden Spell scroll for last as a final trump card."

  A High Priest said in a hoarse voice, "No one hopes for that possibility. What's the second one?"

  "The second is that they can actually only use it this one time. Using it right at the beginning is purely to confuse us. To make us hesitant. This is purely a psychological threat tactic."

  "A Forbidden Spell scroll that could have turned the tide was used so early just to confuse us? Although I really hope this is the case, the possibility of this is truly not very high..."

  After another awkward silence, a general spoke up, "So what should we do now? The Erathian forces are currently being held up by Tatalia. If we wait for the supplies to be replenished, the twenty thousand cavalry from the rear can be dispatched. But even then, we will only have a total of fifty thousand troops, and the current morale is extremely low. If Oufu truly has a trump card more powerful than a Forbidden Spell, our chances of winning are not great."

  A High Priest took out a teleportation scroll, sighed, and said, "Then, before the Erathian army can pacify Tatalia and return, we will temporarily hold our position. I will go and report to His Majesty."

  "We can only hope that Erathia can drive the barbarians out of their territory and return as quickly as possible."

  Erathia, Westleyde, a Key Town, in the northeast.

  Westleyde is not only a vital pass and thoroughfare leading to the Erathian royal capital, but also a large city that integrates commerce and manufacturing. It is bustling and vibrant all year round. Now, this already incredibly lively city has become even more incomparably so. But the noise that now resounds everywhere is no longer the hustle and bustle of heavy traffic, but the frequent death screams of warriors, the groans of axes hacking against swords and shields, and the howls of barbarians. Everywhere there is blood, corpses, and severed limbs. Everyone is jumping, squirming, and charging like madmen, trying every possible way to hack the weapons in their hands into the bodies in front of them, in exchange for as many screams and flying flesh and blood as possible.

  On the tall buildings, archers are desperately shooting down at the barbarians swarming into the streets. Shield and swordsmen stand in a line, desperately resisting wave after wave of impact, while halberdiers and spearmen stab with their long weapons from behind. Westleyde was originally in the heartland of Erathia, with almost no effective defensive works. The advance speed of the barbarians could only be described as unstoppable. The news of the defeat at the front arrived almost at the same time as the barbarian attack. The Erathian forces, without having time for an effective deployment, let alone a complete assembly, were forced into street fighting.

  Thousands of barbarians shriek and roar madly as they charge forward. Those at the very front don't care at all about the rain of arrows from the archers, nor do they heed the hacking of the swordsmen's longswords. They directly use the inertia of their running to crash their bodies into the swordsmen's shields and bodies. While being stabbed by the longswords, they also swing the axes in their hands. The axes hack at the swordsmen's helmets and armor. Some even grab the spears and halberds stuck in their bodies to pull the soldiers behind them closer. The cracking sound of armor and bones breaking, mixed with the screams of the soldiers, chills the hearts of the other soldiers and swordsmen, but at the same time, it stimulates their even higher fighting spirit. These barbarians howl like madmen, pushing, charging, and killing recklessly. Every injury they receive, under this beast-like will to fight, transforms into a more powerful offensive force.

  Although the priests are chanting prayers, constantly casting auxiliary spells on the swordsmen and healing their wounds, the swordsmen's line is still gradually retreating and falling into disarray.

  The warriors from the northern barbaric lands have always relied on this courage and ferocity to fight against the longswords and armor of the Erathian swordsmen. But now they have more than just that. Every barbarian is wearing vine armor. The defensive power of this armor, woven from some unknown vine, is no less than that of chainmail woven from iron bars, and it does not seem heavy while covering the entire body. Neither the swordsmen's longswords nor arrows can easily cause fatal damage to the barbarians. And the weapons in the barbarians' hands are no longer those crudely made, inferior-quality goods, or even flint axes. What they hold in their hands now are fine steel battle-axes.

  "Boom," a fireball shoots out from the window of an attic and explodes among the barbarians. Two or three barbarians at the forefront scream as their bodies are blown apart. Several surrounding barbarians are also sent staggering by the blast, but these who were knocked down immediately get up again. The vine armor on their bodies even has considerable resistance to flames and magic.

  This is already the last mage in the Erathian forces, and this fireball spell is also his final cast. A few barbarians howl as they climb up to the attic's window. They forcefully scatter the guards around the mage and tear him into several pieces. These barbarian warriors, who were originally extremely fearful of magic, are no longer afraid of these little tricks like fireballs and ice bullets. Their unstoppable victory has helped them completely overcome this psychological barrier.

  "Damn it, reinforcements, where are the reinforcements? Are the guys from the Kingdom Knight Order not coming? If this place falls, they can march straight on the royal capital!" an officer, looking at the line on the verge of collapse, roars madly at the scout who has returned alone.

  "The Kingdom Knight Order must protect the safety of Her Majesty the Queen and cannot leave the royal capital without authorization. But I heard that a garrison of ten thousand troops stationed on the western border near Nighon has already been dispatched and is rushing here at high speed."

  "The Nighon border? By the time they arrive, the beasts will have already razed the royal capital to the ground," the officer is hysterical.

  Just at this moment, dozens of huge figures appear in the sky. Several bolts of lightning and fireballs are thrown down, throwing the barbarian attack into disarray.

  "It's the griffin knights, our reinforcements are here!" the soldiers begin to shout. The morale, which was on the verge of collapse, is suddenly boosted. Although the western border is too far away for the main force of the reinforcements to arrive, these highly mobile griffin knights seem to have arrived just in time.

  The formation of the Erathian forces finally stabilizes somewhat, but the effect these griffin knights can have will not be enough to turn the tide of the battle. Two griffin knights recklessly begin to dive towards the barbarians, but immediately become the target of dozens of axes. The griffins and knights are chopped to pieces in mid-air. So, all the griffins stop descending casually. Only the dozen or so Battle Mages above, with their magical bombardment from high altitude, are effective against the barbarians below.

  However, this one-sided form of attack does indeed cause considerable damage to the barbarians, and the greater impact is on their morale. For a moment, the angry roars of the barbarians are deafening. From time to time, an axe is uselessly thrown high into the sky in a parabola, only to fall back down.

  The officer, who had just breathed a sigh of relief, suddenly froze. His attention had been entirely on the battlefield. Only now, as his mood relaxed, did he notice that a faint rumble of thunder was slowly growing from inaudible to clear. But it is now a clear noon, the sun's glare is scorching the eyes.

  The officer looks up in the direction of the thunder and indeed sees a patch of dark clouds slowly approaching this way. The faint rumble of thunder is coming from here. At this time, many people on the battlefield have also started to notice.

  The face of the officer who sees this black cloud has already turned darker than the cloud itself. He lets out a sound more tragic than the howl of a dying barbarian: "It's Dragonflies."

  As they get closer, one can see that this black cloud is actually moving incredibly fast, and it's not a cloud at all. It's a scene formed by tens of thousands of Dragonflies gathering together. The griffin knights, also in the sky, are the first to bear the brunt, directly meeting this sea of insects.

  The griffin knights turn and begin to flee, but these giant birds carrying a single person are obviously no match for these light insects in terms of speed. The dozen or so Battle Mages fiercely bombard the swarm of Dragonflies with fireballs. Each fireball burns dozens or even hundreds of Dragonflies, causing them to fall, and a wall of fire can even kill over a thousand. But they only have time to cast two or three spells. The black cloud completely envelops them.

  Whether it's the griffins or the knights on them, they are all elite and powerful combatants, capable of easily tearing apart a Dragonfly, which is a large but slender insect. But a griffin only has two claws and one beak, and a knight can only swing a single sword. And around each of them, each griffin, there are at least a hundred Dragonflies gathered. The stingers on their slender tails continuously stab into the bodies of the griffins and knights, sending weakness and toxins into them. Their small but incomparably sharp mouthparts directly tear off chunks of flesh from their bodies.

  Even the humming of tens of thousands of Dragonflies cannot drown out the screams of the griffins and knights. In just a few breaths, bloody corpses continuously fall from the sky.

  With the continuous fall of the griffin knights, the morale and formation of the Erathian army finally begin to completely collapse.