Chapter 265 Chapter 262 Left Wing Raid
The battlefield was silent, and the sound of tens of thousands of hearts beating could be heard.
Looking up, through the mist, George saw the Holy Grail Knight shining with the light of his lance, and higher up, he saw the king riding a majestic griffin in the sky.
Brother George gradually calmed down.
“Whoosh~~”
A giant boulder the size of a carriage crashed through the air and landed, rolling into the front lines, killing and injuring several people. The small cries broke the silence of the battlefield.
The Mother of Beasts, Vichina, raised her tentacle staff and pointed to the encampment, shouting, “Advance! My children.”
Then a deafening roar of beasts erupted, shaking the earth, as the cyclopes stomped forward, their booming footsteps causing stones on the ground to leap.
The righteous army grew uneasy, and a spearman standing at the front couldn’t help but turn to run, only to have the overseeing knight charge forward and behead him.
King Richard the Lionheart waved his hand and commanded, “Sound the horn.”
Someone shouted loudly, “Sound the horn!”
“Woo woo woo woo!”
“Doo doo doo doo!”
The sounds of horns and trumpets resounded together.
It was unclear which standard was lowered or which knights charged recklessly.
The cyclopes charged within range, each lifting a giant boulder to smash at the encampment, aiming to create a path to the “Demon King’s Supernatural Matter.” In an instant, the earthen walls collapsed.
Humans were not to be outdone; a large number of catapults, prepared in advance, launched stones at the cyclopes based on pre-measured data, not seeking kills, but simply to create disruptions.
Ovoid boulders and stones crossed paths in the air, one stone colliding with a boulder and falling to the ground.
On the scorched earth, mastodons carried rough wooden ladders, running under a rain of arrows, setting the ladders across the deep ditches and rushing over.
“For the King! Kill them!”
Soldiers wielding axe-spears surged forward.
Some mastodons were hacked down or stabbed to death, falling into the ditches, while others forced their way into the battle line by sheer brute strength.
The Barot soldiers had just reached the armpits of a mastodon but had to muster their courage to charge, while peasants on the high ground behind repeatedly drew their bows to shoot arrows, which buried into the mastodon’s tough hide, only driving the beast into a more frenzied rage.
Each swing of the mastodon’s axe brought soldiers down with screams, often claiming four or five Barot soldiers’ lives before they fell.
Before the Barot soldiers could catch their breath, more mastodons charged in, inflicting further carnage. Amidst the sounds of blood and slaughter, some mastodons, driven mad by the pain of dozens of arrows piercing them, grabbed injured humans lying on the ground, bit through their throats, and began to chew them in public.
Above them were the constantly falling boulders, sometimes crushing their bodies. In front of them was a group of man-eating beasts, causing the Barot soldiers to start to shrink back, retreating.
At that moment, fervent devotees carried the remains of the Holy Grail, with a man holding a horse’s head yelling, “Giddy up! Giddy up! Giddy up!”
The others mimicked the sound of hooves, spitting as they did.
Thus, four ragged farmers carried the remains of the Holy Grail, mimicking the Holy Grail Knights, charging into the crumbling line.
“I am Ludwig, the Holy Grail Knight!” the lead farmer shouted. “Beastmen! Die!”
The dead Holy Grail knight, with hollow eye sockets, looked around. The remains exuded a certain power, alleviating the nearby soldiers’ fear.
The mastodon in front seemed less terrifying, and they paused in their retreat.
One mastodon sneered, lifted its giant axe, broke through several soldiers, and charged at the Holy Grail remains.
“Beast! How dare you provoke me.”
The lead farmer fell into a frenzy, considering himself an idol, “In the name of the goddess! I will kill you!”
The four ragged farmers charged at the mastodon, fully believing they were Holy Grail Knights.
The mastodon held back its laughter and swung its axe at the Holy Grail remains, completely disregarding the people bearing it below.
Suddenly, the leading farmer jumped up, using both legs to kick the mastodon. An incredible force surged through its chest, causing the mastodon to fall flat on its backside, completely unprepared to be knocked down by a farmer carrying a dead man’s bones.
“In the name of the goddess!”
The four farmers directly used the wood on their shoulders as a battering ram, striking it firmly against the mastodon’s forehead.
The mastodon lay on the ground, its wide-open eyes unwillingly watching as the farmers stepped on its body, with the ridiculous Holy Grail remains on their shoulders. With a slight tilt of its head, it breathed its last.
The morale of the nearby Barot soldiers soared, and they surged forward, pushing with their flesh and blood.
Jema observed the battlefield from the air.
From the sky, it was apparent that the righteous army, relying on the fortifications they had prepared earlier, fiercely resisted the advancing beastmen. But the tawny beast horde continued to slowly crush the human line, gradually approaching the location of the Demon King’s Supernatural Matter.
Many righteous knights had already charged out of the line, engaging the beastmen on the left wing.
However, in Jema’s view, this move would only delay the line from being broken, yielding little more than futile effort; given the kill efficiency, the beast horde had plenty of manpower and could not spread their advantage into a momentum.
King Richard the Lionheart was still waiting for an opportunity.
The Mother of Beasts remained stationary, protected by her personal guard alongside the cyclopes.
The war had lasted nearly three hours.
At all times, blood was being offered to the Blood God.
On the beastmen’s side, apart from the reserves, almost everything was out of control, with no formation or discipline, rushing headlong towards the camp.
The righteous knights were not to be outdone, charging recklessly, engaging in battle with the deer-horned beasts on the flanks and occasionally ambushing the enemy infantry.
The line gradually and steadily pushed toward the land tainted by the Demon King’s Supernatural Matter.
In the sky, a large portion of the tawny beast horde could be seen breaking into the Barot line.
The possibility of victory was dwindling little by little.
Under such pressure, George felt extremely anxious; the battle had raged for nearly three hours, and his sword had yet to be stained with blood. But as he was part of the reserve force, he was not permitted to attack without the king’s orders.
The front lines were only a hundred meters away, where the foot servants, primarily composed of the knightly noble bastards, were already engaged in battle with the beastmen.
This was the last line of defense for the mortal armies.
He glanced at Jema, who was eating roasted cashews, and asked, “Shouldn’t we go help up there?”
“Trust in King Richard,” Jema said calmly, chewing her cashews. “He will find a way.”
“Bang bang bang!”
The once-silent sounds of the cyclopes resumed.
“The previous organized sky-knight assault was useless,” George said. “Those cyclopes resumed their bombardment of our line after resting.”
“That was just a few probes,” Jema replied dismissively. “It’s normal to probe a few times on the battlefield.”
“Is the situation turning for the better or worse?”
“Worse.”
“Aren’t you worried?”
“I told you, we must trust in King Richard.”
George suppressed his desire for battle, took a deep breath, and said, “Right, obedience brings victory.”
Jema wasn’t worried because she didn’t care; she continued to calmly eat her roasted cashews.
A series of whistles approached, three long and two short.
The two of them, along with the knights surrounding George, looked up at the sky, seeing a sky-knight riding a flying horse, whistling.
“King Richard commands!” he shouted urgently. “The left-wing passage has opened! Launch an assault on the cyclopes from the left wing!”
George immediately raised his lance, the Holy Banner flying from it: “Knights! Follow me! Prepare for the ambush!”
Saying so, he led the charge on his old white horse, carrying Jema, toward the left wing.
Once Jema carefully folded the paper bag and stored away the cashews, she gracefully leaped off the horse’s back and took to the sky.
When she reached a height where she could glimpse a corner of the battlefield, she immediately understood that the opportunity King Richard had been seeking had arrived.
The Mother of Beasts was pressing forward with a large crowd of her offspring, disengaging from the cyclopes behind them.
Coincidentally, the knights on the left wing had won the cavalry battle.
Jema did not understand why the Mother of Beasts Vichina chose to separate from the cyclopes.
Perhaps she was unable to contain herself, or perhaps she simply did not understand military strategy. It could also be that she believed victory was within reach, thinking she could pick the fruits of victory once they breached the encampment.
However, this choice was not made in folly.
If King Richard could not quickly gather forces to annihilate the cyclopes, then if the Mother of Beasts overwhelmed the line, the rear would fall completely, and the knights would likely have to swallow the humiliation of defeat and flee.
This was a gamble.
The sky-knights and griffins congregated in the air, forming a terrifying aerial force that charged toward the cyclopes with the boulders.
Seeing the scene, Jema felt that this gamble had a high chance of success.
As long as the ground cavalry could surge in from the left flank, victory was assured.
After her contemplation, she turned her body, lowering her altitude, and flew to George’s side, shouting, “As long as you charge beneath the cyclopes from the left wing, victory is definitely in your grasp!”
“Good!”
George raised his bloodied lance and led the charge, easily breaking through several scattered deer-horned beasts to join up with the knights on the left wing.
Meanwhile, some beastmen had already noticed the changes on the left wing.
Lines formed by spear-horned beasts and minotaurs blocked the knights’ path.
For the beastmen, who had very low discipline, forming a defensive line on the fly was nearly impossible.
This indicated they had been prepared.
The first wave to charge was twelve Holy Grail Knights. They radiated a faint white light, their horse hooves pounding the scorched earth, increasing in speed as they approached. The cyclopes turned around, lifting their giant boulders, instinctively aiming to crush the Holy Grail Knights.
But the boulders always landed behind the Holy Grail Knights, with none taking damage.
The minotaurs gathered, preparing to counter-charge.
When the Holy Grail Knights reached the left-wing line of the beastmen, their speed outstripped the wind.
The horned beasts imitated humans, sticking their spear tips into the muddy ground, pointing their tips at the Holy Grail Knights and their warhorses. Before the thickets of spear walls, the spear-horned beasts brimming with confidence looked as though the Holy Grail Knights were merely coming to meet their demise.
The twelve Holy Grail Knights crashed through the spear wall knee to knee. Their long spears barely touched, but they all broke easily, sending the obstructing horned beasts flying.
The Holy Grail Knights effortlessly broke through three rows of horned beasts, creating a gap. Dozens of minotaurs rushed to block the gap, charging at the Holy Grail Knights.
But when George and the knights rushed toward that gap, not a single minotaur was left standing.
