Chapter 864: A War of Professionals

Pabos has killed three Grand Knight Rank enemies in ten seconds, thanks to surprise and the high-tier equipment he carries.

The enemy takes notice at once. An Iron Rank crustacean charges straight at him, followed by several Grand Knight Rank enemies.

Pabos turns and runs, of course.

A few steps later, calamity creatures off to his flank are flung into the air.

Alesha, deputy commander of the Wind Raider Cavalry, charges in like a tank, greatsword in hand.

With a deft, tight turn, she keeps her charge unbroken and slams into the enemy leader on Pabos's heels.

Only then does Pabos reach his own soldiers.

He immediately splits his twenty-five Battle Knights into small groups and leads them against the surrounding enemies.

It is an ambush. Ganging up on individual targets is the basic approach.

The enemies have already fought one battle and barely escaped the encirclement. Their strength is badly depleted.

The ambush leaves them no chance to defend themselves, especially against Pabos's officers, who have trained specifically to surround and kill high-ranking enemies.

They have two formations for fighting high-ranking enemies: one to contain, the other to kill.

They hold the tough opponents in place and deal with the easy targets first.

Then they mass their strength to surround and finish off the tougher enemies.

The professionals here are seasoned duelists and veterans of deadly battles. They know how to fight together in a melee.

Morris, commander of the Tenth Warband, leads more than twenty men in pinning down an Iron Rank enemy.

Nearby bandit elites try to help, only to be held off by Pavka of the Eighth Warband and his soldiers.

While those subterranean elites grow increasingly desperate, Christian, commander of the Second Warband, brings his men around behind them.

Pavka immediately shifts out of his defensive stance and joins Christian in squeezing the enemy squad between them.

The fight ends in minutes. Without a word to each other, both teams move straight into the nearby fighting.

An ambush has to hit hard!

It must inflict the greatest possible damage in the shortest possible time and throw the enemy into complete confusion.

There is no need to ration fighting spirit in a battle like this. They have to give it everything.

The enemy is equally desperate, fighting for its life to break out.

The fighting is ferocious from the start.

Fighting spirit lashes across the battlefield while spells fly everywhere.

Now this looks like a world of extraordinary power!

A battle between professionals on this scale may be the first since the previous Calamity War.

In a little over ten minutes, Pabos's squad kills nearly a hundred enemies, not counting his earlier kills.

A fair number are at the Grand Knight Rank. The rest are Battle Knight Rank enemies.

Of the more than three thousand subterranean elites, only half remain, and that number is dropping fast.

At the edge of the battlefield, a huge white cross-shaped star suddenly bursts into being.

Powerful extraordinary fluctuations sweep over the entire field.

Pabos's eyes brighten. Senar has entered the fight.

For Senar to open with Holy Spirit Star, his opponent must be at the Glory Rank.

Now everyone realizes how lucky they are!

This is the real breakout force, not a diversionary decoy.

The squad commanders fight harder, eager to finish their opponents quickly and watch the clash between top-level professionals.

The duel at the edge outshines even the dazzling techniques elsewhere: a blade of light more than ten meters long clashes with a water sword of the same size.

With his squad's help, Pabos kills another Grand Knight Rank enemy and steals a glance at that fierce duel.

He curls his lip. Senar still hasn't learned to control his power properly, it seems.

He has watched Henwell spar with Peace Haven's professionals. His father rarely projected fighting spirit beyond his body in those sessions.

Blood-red fighting spirit stayed tight against his weapon, but every strike left Peace Haven's professionals struggling to cope.

As Dalton put it, Henwell's sword was fast and heavy, with deadly timing and angles of attack.

The fighting spirit was packed so densely that a single blow could cut through a defense and kill on the spot.

Under Henwell's guidance, Peace Haven's professionals have generally come to favor that style of fighting.

Less showy than projecting fighting spirit outward, it is also deadlier.

That does not mean projecting fighting spirit has no value.

It works extremely well in mass combat and can suppress large numbers of lower-ranked opponents.

There is a reason that style developed. Until recently, training as a professional was largely a privilege of the nobility.

The ordinary troops in wars between nobles were of poor quality.

A style that could cut down whole ranks looked more intimidating and could boost the morale of the user's own troops.

Peace Haven's practice of keeping fighting spirit tightly condensed is better suited to single combat.

That suits Peace Haven. Officers are there to command soldiers, not go on a one-man rampage across the battlefield.

If possible, they should kill the enemy officers as quickly as they can, then command their soldiers to crush the opposing formation.

That is what Peace Haven wants, and what best meets its needs.

Its soldiers are elite. Proper leadership lets them make better use of their strength.

In Henwell's view, officers train so that they can survive on the battlefield and command their armies more effectively.

Even Peace Haven has no experience of a battle this large fought entirely by professionals.

It can, however, draw some lessons from its earlier calamity-creature hunting teams.

Other squads send fighting spirit flying in every direction. Peace Haven's squads produce far less light and noise.

The exceptions are the blasts of high-tier Heart-Piercing Lotuses and the roar of enhanced Thunder Hand Cannons.

Every Peace Haven officer here carries a Thunder Hand Cannon with a five-round cylinder, much like Pabos's Death's Roar.

A surprise shot from one of those at close range is no joke.

Many, like Pabos, kill with a single hit. If a shot fails to finish the target, a nearby comrade can do it.

Compared with the other teams, Peace Haven's squads fight like assassins in ambush: fierce and lethal.

Peace Haven's contingent accounts for the most enemy kills on the entire battlefield.

After more than ten further minutes, only a few hundred enemies remain.

Pabos's part of the field is clear. To find more opponents, he would have to cross the fierce fighting around Senar.

Crossing now would put him in the path of the duel. Even a glancing blow would kill him.

As fights across the field end, a broad, loose encirclement forms.

The remaining force of more than two hundred subterranean elites splits into two groups, each led by an Iron Rank creature.

The squads clear the field as they slowly close in.

Pinas beckons to an Iron Rank naga. "Come on! Let me finish you off!"

Alesha is about to step forward, but Garcia speaks beside her. "Let me have this one! Senar accidentally killed my last opponent."

"I've seen you kill an opponent of your own rank. I need to kill one on my own too!"