Chapter 397 276: A Battle Without Suspense

He had only just gotten some news from Bodoff today. He had assumed she was an unimportant Silver Dragon—frighteningly stupid, after all—but now, she had given him a solid scare.

"The cold wind kind of killed the mood, so I was delayed a bit." Levi waved his hand, casually making up an excuse.

No sane person would have believed such a lame excuse, but Sophia nodded and said with great earnestness, "The environment certainly does have a big impact."

"Oh, right, Levi. I've finished eating, so I'm heading back now."

She hopped off her chair and headed out of the tent by herself.

"Something feels a little off about you," Levi said, looking at her suspiciously.

"Haha, what could possibly be wrong? You're definitely overthinking it." The Silver Dragon Maiden laughed awkwardly, but her pace quickened as she left, and she soon vanished from sight.

"Son of a bitch! Who the hell scarfed down my portion?"

A moment later, the Lord stared at the licked-clean plate, his enraged voice loud enough to tear the tent apart.

Sophia, already back on her own cot, quickly wrapped herself tightly in her blanket. Hiding inside, she patted her slightly bulging tummy and giggled foolishly as she gazed at the dozen or so Gold Coins before her—coins that were truly her own.

'I get to eat lots of delicious food every day and earn my own money, too.' She felt this life was exactly what she had always dreamed of.

...

The band of Demons was indeed a bit stronger than Levi had imagined. They quickly reorganized their ranks, preparing to launch another attack on the small, temporary camp.

Unfortunately, the first to greet them were the arrows of the Centaurs. These warriors of the grasslands made nearly every arrow count. The Demons left behind almost a thousand corpses before they even came within two miles of the camp.

They tried to deal with the pesky Centaurs first, but the moment they got close, the Centaurs would gallop away. On their two legs, the Demons could only watch helplessly, unable to do a thing.

But when the Demons retreated, the Centaurs would close in again, clinging to them like persistent flies, endlessly harassing them.

Crucially, even the flying Flomos were so intimidated by the Centaurs' terrifying accuracy that they didn't dare fly low.

These tactics—harassing the enemy as they fell back and retreating as they advanced—had been deeply instilled into every High Cliff Castle cavalryman by their Lord.

Now, the Demons were the first to experience it. Say what you will, the tactic may have been dirty, but it was undeniably effective at grinding down the enemy.

One could tell just by seeing how the Demons were beaten into submission.

In the end, their nascent morale, which they had just mustered for an attack, was shattered. They were forced to fall back and hole up in the countless caves riddling the Lonely Peak.

...

「The next morning」

The main body of the army arrived.

Following a report from the Ice and Snow Mages, a brief war council was held.

Tens of thousands of Northern Soldiers surged from the main force. To the sound of marching feet and clanking Armor, they formed orderly ranks and began a methodical advance toward the distant Lonely Peak.

"Infantry, advance with shields! Archers, covering fire!" officers roared, directing their formations.

These Northern Soldiers were no longer green recruits. Even though their enemies were Demons they had only read about in stories, the corpses from the previous skirmish had taught them one thing: these creatures died just like anything else when you cut their throats. There was nothing to fear.

The movements of such a large army were impossible to hide, and the Demons entrenched on the Lonely Peak were well aware of their approach.

The strength of the defending Demons had already been thoroughly scouted. Their numbers were just over twenty thousand, led by a particularly powerful Six-armed Snake Demon Warrior.

In terms of equipment, they were on par with a Militia at best. Most clutched nothing more than daggers. Their only ranged threat came from the flying Flomos, who wielded Short Bows of such dubious power it was doubtful they could even pierce a single layer of Chain Armor.

The battle erupted into a crescendo from the very start.

Reaching the enemy even before the Heavy Armored Infantry was the ranged barrage from the Catapults and Bed Crossbows.

It had to be said that humans had made profound advancements in the study of large-scale military ordnance.

With the GROAN of ten Catapults, their counterweights slammed down. Stones coated in a green, flammable substance were ignited and launched into the air, soaring toward the Lonely Peak.

A moment later, a earth-shattering BOOM resounded as the boulders slammed into the Lonely Peak. They shattered into innumerable, smaller flaming fragments that sprayed in every direction.

A few unlucky bastards were struck by shards with the force of a Strong Crossbow bolt and dropped instantly. The luckier ones were only grazed, but they were splashed with the burning green liquid. It clung to them like a plague, and their howls echoed as the fire consumed them.

Such a forbidden weapon might not be permissible for use against humans, but using it on Demons was a deeply satisfying affair.

It was just a pity that the substance was so rare. They had only managed to gather a few barrels in all of Kolon. Perhaps the late Cross had used up the rest at Black Stone Castle.

After several volleys, the ground-bound Demons were already in agony before the close-quarters fighting had even begun. The flying Flomos, however, had no such concerns. They soon soared hundreds of feet above the Northern infantry, their faces twisting into savage grins.

At this altitude, it was difficult for ordinary Archers to reach them, but they were free to rain down arrows and stones.

After all, these cumbersome human infantrymen weren't nearly as nimble as that band of Centaurs.

Unfortunately, their glee was short-lived, cut short by a series of grating thrums that set one's teeth on edge.

Dozens of Bed Crossbows fired at once, sending Crossbow Arrows as thick as a man's arm soaring toward the Flomos in the sky.

These Crossbow Arrows were specially forged. Attached to the tail were two symmetrical, slender blades, each as thick as a little finger.

A unique vented design allowed them to spin rapidly in high-speed flight—a design inspired by paper pinwheels.

Extreme range had been sacrificed for massive, short-range area-of-effect lethality.

A moment later, with a series of WHIZZING sounds, a rain of blood fell from the sky. Severed limbs, hot flesh, and viscera showered down upon the Northern Soldiers below.

The Flomos in the sky had no time to react before the rapidly spinning blades of the speeding Crossbow Arrows sliced them to ribbons.

"Mier, when you get a chance, go and get friendly with Fujero's craftsmen," Levi instructed, turning to Mier, utterly astounded by what he was seeing.

This battle was the first time the Northern Territory had truly shown its hand.

Witnessing these military techniques and war machines, the Lord felt increasingly humbled.

'Compared to a truly sophisticated army, High Cliff Castle still has a long way to go.'

The foundations of a Duke's army were truly profound. They were supported by a mature tactical system, a far cry from the ragtag groups of the Wilderness.

The Demons were battered into submission by the ranged onslaught, their morale visibly plummeting. Then, they were methodically annihilated by the coordinated attacks of the Heavy Armored Infantry and Archers, a process that was, for the Lord, a unique and spectacular sight.

Piercing screams were still clearly audible from a great distance, but they were mostly the hoarse, gravelly wails of the Demons.

'Barring any surprises,' Levi thought, 'the Demons' morale is about to break.'

This was the first time the country bumpkins from High Cliff Castle had ever seen a large-scale army fight a field battle, and they all stood gaping in astonishment.

The coordination between the massive war machines and the soldiers was seamless. The offensive was as aesthetically pleasing as a work of art.

The Northern Soldiers could already taste victory. In unison, they began to sing "The Blizzard's Roar," the war hymn of the Northern Territory. Its theme was that no matter how fierce the storm ahead, the Northern People would always prevail.

They advanced step by step, Shields raised, compressing the space the Demons had left to survive.

The battle was fought with incredible ease, almost like a leisurely stroll. They had barely suffered any casualties, yet they had forced the Demons into a full-scale retreat.

But just then, everything changed.

"ROAR!"

Seven or eight Six-armed Snake Demon Warriors charged in from the rear. With a thunderous roar, they raised their Shields and smashed into the infantry's Shield Array.

With a sweep of their massive tails, infantrymen were sent screaming through the air like they'd been struck by logs rolling down a steep hill.

Faced with Long Spears thrusting from all directions, the Demon Warriors' six arms blurred into motion. In a flash of brilliant sparks, a dozen Long Spears were parried and struck nothing but air.