Chapter 117: A Perfect Ambush, An Uninvited Third Party

The instant Eldara made her move, the entire mountain pass erupted into motion.

From the pristine white canvas of the landscape, over a hundred Silent Watch Knights burst forth, transforming into ebon specters of death. They dove from the slopes, shattered the stillness of snowbanks, and slid from the deep shadows cast by ancient rocks.

There were no war cries. No battle shouts.

There was only the dense, rhythmic clatter of skeletal warhorses’ iron hooves, their ghostly flames licking at the air as they crushed ice and snow underfoot, composing a chilling march of death. This silent army surged from all directions, a colossal net of shadow and steel tightening around the Withered Legion that had just marched into the heart of the pass.

“Ambush! Form ranks!”

Mogras bellowed, his voice a furious roar that echoed through the valley. He had just parried Eldara’s devastating sword strike, and the soulfire burning within his helmet contracted violently.

The Withered Legion under his command reacted with terrifying speed. As expected of elite undead knights, their formation instantly constricted. The outer ranks raised their heavy tower shields in unison, creating a defensive perimeter of steel and bone.

However, Eldara had no intention of granting them a moment to reorganize.

The very instant Mogras’s roar faded, dozens of figures rose silently on a ridge three hundred meters behind the pass. At an unspoken command, a storm of arrows and ice shards tore through the swirling snow. With a sharp, whistling shriek, the volley descended, precisely blanketing the densest formations in the middle and rear of the Withered Legion.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

As the long-range assault landed, vast patches of ice-blue runes flared to life on the snowy ground directly beneath the undead knights. A series of violent explosions erupted from the earth, blasting countless frost-laced fragments mixed with raw runic energy into the tightly packed legion. The Undead Knights were sent sprawling, their formation instantly collapsing into chaos.

It was a pincer attack from above and below—a three-dimensional slaughter.

“Kill!” Eldara’s cold voice finally rang out, a sharp command cutting across the entire battlefield.

The Silent Watch Knights transformed into a black, raging tide, sweeping toward the stunned and disoriented Withered Legion.

“Form ranks! Counterattack!” Mogras hissed, the dark vortex of energy beneath his helm spinning with incandescent fury.

After her initial blow was blocked, Eldara merely flipped her wrist. With a flick, her sword blade slid down the length of Mogras’s giant axe, the tip driving straight for his chest.

Shocked, Mogras dodged clumsily to the side. The blade grazed his breastplate, scraping against the metal and kicking up a brilliant shower of sparks.

“Traitor! How dare you set an ambush here!” Mogras roared, his giant axe swinging in a wide, brutal arc. A filthy whirlwind of death energy erupted around him as he tried to force Eldara back.

“I have been waiting for you for a long time.” Eldara’s voice was bone-chillingly cold, but her swordsmanship was even deadlier.

Mogras’s combat style was all-consuming violence. As he swung his giant axe, black death energy coalesced around him, twisting into the forms of countless wailing, vengeful spirits.

Eldara’s movements, however, were a study in fluid agility. Her swordsmanship was precise, efficient, every strike aimed unerringly at a vital point. The powers of Frost and Death blended perfectly in her hands; one moment she would freeze an opponent’s joint, the next she would use death energy to corrode their very soul.

On the surface, Mogras was a whirlwind of frenzied attacks, but Celeste, watching from the ridge, could see the truth of the duel. He couldn’t even touch the hem of Eldara’s cloak. Instead, his own armor was being steadily marred by deep gashes left by her sword’s aura.

“Also, allow me to correct you,” Eldara spoke in a lull between their exchanges, her voice cutting through the din. “I am not a traitor. You and I were never on the same side.”

Mogras was completely tied down, locked in a desperate dance that left him no opportunity to break away and command his troops.

“You stole the authority of death, yet you use it to protect those lowly living beings! You desecrate the very art of death!” Mogras’s roar was thick with resentment and a twisted sort of jealousy.

“Shut up, you marionette controlled by strings,” Eldara’s voice remained as cold as glacial ice. “You don’t understand what true power is. You are merely jealous of my freedom.”

“Freedom? Hahahaha!” Mogras let out a harsh, wild laugh that grated on the ears. “Soon, the entire world will be immersed in the silence of eternity. By then, your so-called freedom will be worthless!”

Elsewhere on the battlefield, the two elite units of death knights had already collided with ferocious force.

The Silent Watch Knights, using the terrain to their advantage, dove down from the slopes, maximizing their momentum and impact, turning themselves into a black torrent of steel.

“BOOM—!”

The dull, thunderous sound of the impact merged into a single, deafening roar. It wasn’t just the collision of metal and bone, but the clash of two opposing wills of death.

The shield wall that the Withered Legion had hastily assembled shook violently under the first wave. Several knights on the outer edge were sent flying, horse and rider tumbling through the snow.

The Silent Watch gave their enemy no chance to breathe.

The front-row knights swung their greatswords, ice-blue runes flaring to life on their weapons. Each heavy blow carried a biting frost that froze their enemies’ armor and slowed their movements. The rear-row knights then urged their mounts forward, weaving through the gaps between their comrades. Their long spears lanced out, precisely piercing the openings in the shield formation and reaping the souls of their foes.

“This… this is insane!”

On the ridge, Selene watched, completely dumbfounded, the piece of jerky in her mouth entirely forgotten. “They’re both death knights, right? So why do the Silent Watch feel like they’re a whole tier stronger than the other guys?”

‘Of course they are,’Celeste thought to herself, an expert’s critique forming in her mind.’One side is an elite special forces unit with free will, capable of real-time tactical coordination. The other is just a mob of rigid elites running a fixed script. How could they possibly be the same?”Look at the Commander’s side: tacit cooperation, clear tactics. The charge, the formation break, the weaving, the splitting—it’s all one smooth, flawless execution. Now look at the other guys. All they know how to do is turtle up and tank the damage. The difference is night and day.’

“The knights of the Silent Watch possess free will,” Su Wan explained softly from the side, her gaze locked on the battlefield below, not missing a single detail. “They are living beings, possessing the wisdom and tactical literacy of the living. While Mogras’s legion is also elite, their souls have been branded. Their actions are more akin to executing fixed programs; they lack flexibility.”

“Now, with their commander personally tied down by Eldara, they’ve lost their central command. They can only act according to their most basic combat logic. Against an opponent of the same level, they’re just sitting ducks.”

Just as Su Wan said, the leaderless Withered Legion saw their formation rapidly collapse under the cold, efficient splitting and weaving tactics of the Silent Watch. The once-sturdy shield wall was torn open, and the entire legion was carved into several smaller, isolated pockets, forcing them into the chaos of fighting alone.

The Silent Watch Knights were like a perfectly coordinated wolf pack, precisely surrounding and annihilating these isolated prey.

The battle was decided.

“Alright, almost time. Get ready to move,” Celeste clapped her hands and stood up. “Once the Commander takes care of that big guy, we’ll go down and help clean up the mobs.”

“Alright!” Selene, who had been waiting impatiently, raised her shield with an excited grin.

Su Wan and Xia Lian also rose to their feet, their hands on their weapons, ready for battle.

But just then, a sudden, world-altering change occurred.

A teeth-grinding, shattering sound echoed from the other side of the valley. It was a sharp yet dull noise, as if the very spine of the snow-capped mountain was being broken, inch by inch.

“RUMBLE—”

Amidst an earth-shaking roar, a massive rift shimmering with an eerie, ice-blue spectral light tore open out of thin air on the sheer mountain wall.

A figure, as burly as a small, moving mountain, slowly squeezed its way out of the Fragmentum.

It was at least three meters tall, its muscles knotted like boulders, its skin a chilling shade of blue. It wore rough armor made of beast fur and bone, painted with twisted, blood-colored totems. Behind it followed a large group of similar creatures, also blue-skinned but slightly smaller in stature.

Even more eye-catching was a hunched, ancient-looking Frost Troll in the group. He held a totem staff crafted from a giant beast’s spine and massive ice crystals, and his cloudy eyes flashed with a cunning that was utterly at odds with his savage appearance.

“What is that?” Selene was stunned.

“Frost Trolls…” Su Wan’s expression instantly turned grave. “Cruel by nature, and according to the records… they are the mortal enemies of the Elven race.”

Celeste’s heart skipped a beat.

‘No way,’she thought, her inner gamer screaming in protest.’Are you kidding me? We’re in the middle of a team fight, and a third party just drops in? That’s just BM! Total bullshit!’The colossal Frost Troll leader was clearly drawn by the sounds of battle. It first looked down with confusion at the two groups of “tin cans” hacking away at each other, letting out a low grunt that seemed to ask,’What’s going on here? Infighting?’

But soon, the Frost Troll shaman behind it tapped the ground with his bone staff, pointing toward the distant ridge—the very position that was pouring a rain of arrows and spells onto the battlefield.

There, the elegant figures of the Elven rangers and mages were starkly conspicuous against the wind and snow.

The Frost Troll leader’s small, beady eyes followed the shaman’s direction, and in an instant, they erupted with a blazing, intense hatred.

It let out a deafening roar, a sound that echoed through the valley, powerful enough to drown out the clamor of the battle below.

“Pointy-ears! It’s the pointy-ears!” it bellowed in an ancient, savage tongue, raising a mace fashioned from an entire tree trunk, a huge ice crystal embedded in its head. It pointed the weapon from afar, directly at the rangers and mages.

“Little ones! For the Frost Mother! Tear those long-ears apart!”

Simultaneously, the shaman raised his staff high, chanting an incantation. An ice-blue halo swirled out, enveloping all the Frost Trolls in a shimmering aura.

Following their leader’s order, hundreds of Frost Trolls let out bloodthirsty roars. Like a living avalanche, they bypassed the chaotic battlefield below and charged straight up the slope, their target clear.

And the direction they were attacking was none other than the remote support unit of the Silent Watch Knights.

[Elysian’s Note:

Having a good time with the story?

Every single bit helps immensely:

Thanks a ton for making this journey possible!]