Chapter 120: The Autumn of Adolf (Part Seven)
Black iron and flames marched across the earth, the fiery railway leaving behind burning hoofprints on the ground. From a distance, it looked like the flames of hell were advancing, ready to devour life at any moment. The army of the vanguard legion was drawing closer, and the profane mark of the eight-pointed star could already be seen on the altar of blood god warfare. The knights of Barto felt uneasy. The Holy Grail knights were riding their tireless steeds ahead, cutting down the demonic army that approached to harass and attack. Upon seeing the vanguard, they nervously lifted their holy lances and went to scout to prevent a surprise attack.
“King Richard the Lionheart.” A noble knight, riding a snow-white Pegasus, flew before King Richard I and said, “An evil army of demons is approaching from our flank. Should we, in the name of the goddess, go forth and crush them?”
As he spoke, he pointed to the distant sky, where the demon lord Jima was riding atop a gigantic dragon, “That is a formidable enemy.”
“There’s no need to panic. She is coming to fight for the crown fragment according to the wicked traditions of the demon race,” King Richard the Lionheart replied with a smile. “Tell the knights to continue forward.”
“Is this collusion with the demon race? But the code of chivalry requires that when justice meets evil, one must charge with lance.”
King Richard the Lionheart waved his hand grandly, “Don’t say that. All knights participating in the righteous war are models of the chivalric code and will have the goddess’s protection. We need not fear the demonic army’s surprise attack. Even if we turn our horse’s hindquarters toward them, our brave knights will still emerge victorious. True knights do not fear.”
So… it is said, it is my will. King Richard the Lionheart declared magnanimously, “Only cowards would not dare to present their rears to the demonic army behind us.”
King Richard I’s flexible standards of chivalry successfully avoided the iron rules of knighthood. The Pegasus knights had nothing to argue, and he dismounted to convey King Richard’s orders. Proud knights, after having pointed their lances toward the approaching vanguard moments ago, now arrogantly pulled the reins to turn their horses’ backs upon the vanguard.
The knights rode their panting steeds to the battlefield. They saw, not far away on the hill, a number of crosses with empire soldiers nailed upon them, their eyelids severed, tortured beyond recognition. Each one filled with valor, vowing to annihilate the doomsday army in the name of the goddess.
Under the tacit understanding of the two leaders, there was hardly any clash between the vanguard and the Barto chivalric army. Jima’s cavalry, clad in heavy armor, with their horses similarly armored moving at a slower pace, waited for her subordinates to gather while she observed the battlefield situation from her dragon.
Outside the city of Adolf, the doomsday army was dense as ants, stretching from the corner of the city walls of Adolf to the edge of the battlefield, an estimated distance of at least two kilometers. How many people? One hundred thousand? One hundred fifty thousand? Two hundred thousand? Jima could no longer keep track. When the quantity exceeded a certain limit, one loses the intuitive grasp of numbers; Jima was no exception.
She estimated, and her not-so-bright brain began to heat up, glancing out toward the far horizon where the doomsday army spread beneath the city walls, extending to the horizon, and her mind overloaded. Ultimately, Jima concluded that the numbers were indeed large; whether it was one hundred fifty thousand or two hundred thousand, it was simply a lot.
Though the cavalry was grand in force, her vanguard only reported a sum of 5,752 yesterday, and combined with the chivalric army, it was uncertain if they exceeded ten thousand.
“My lord,” said the adviser of the Bleached Teeth tribe, “there are quite a few enemies.”
“But their quality is not high.”
Jima responded, “A whole bunch of unarmored things.”
“My lord is brave and shrewd.”
Jima remained calm. Her only concern was the murmurings of the God of Deception and Change, who had promised and also prophesied that today in Adolf, a new election of four gods would take place. He had promised that he would tidy up the mess.
If it weren’t for wanting to defeat the Eternal Selection, Jima wouldn’t want to become one of the new four selected gods. She had confidence in her loyalty and body to withstand the blessings of the four gods, but that was presuming she was uninjured and in peak condition.
If she were to be gravely wounded, and the four gods suddenly popped up, telling her, “Congratulations, through our research, you are now the new four selected gods,” and then without further ado began to channel energy, that wouldn’t be a blessing but rather forcing someone to lose control, becoming an oversized monster.
Thinking further was useless; everyone could only unpreparedly face unpredictable fate. Not even someone as strong as herself.
Jima contemplated, feeling bored, and shifted her gaze to the chivalric army. She saw the knights dismount, kneeling on both knees with their hands holding their swords against their foreheads, before the knights.
A Holy Grail maiden, dressed in a pure white gown with a golden belt around her slender waist, barefoot, rode sideways on a silver-white unicorn, holding a golden holy grail in one hand and olive branches in the other, sprinkling living water on the knights, showering the goddess’s blessings upon them.
At this moment, King Richard I was giving a speech.
Jima could not hear clearly, but it inspired her; she too wanted to give a speech. So she pulled out a brass horn, mounted on her dragon Mawor, and flew majestically over the army, shouting:
“I promise you a feast of slaughter! Look before you, so many heads await decapitation, so much blood waiting to be spilled, but this is just the appetizer.” Jima declared, “As long as I can become the Eternal God’s Selection, I promise there’s an even grander feast of slaughter waiting for you!”
The vanguard’s morale soared. Just thinking about the impending slaughter of “brethren” and demons, they became excited, shouting loudly, raising their weapons, or vigorously shaking their banners.
So easy to deceive.
Jima thought.
At that moment.
The first horn blew.
Knights and lords with lances mounted their steeds, raising their lances.
At this time, the vanguard’s cavalry also began to take their positions. The Copper Bull knights were eager to charge towards the enemy.
The second horn blew.
Led by King Richard I riding in his saddle, surrounded by numerous mounted knights, followed by the Pegasus knights. The Holy Grail knights held their holy glowing lances, forming a line and proceeding on the ground, followed by waves of knights. The steeds trotted forward slowly.
Facing the large cavalry force emerging from behind, the doomsday army had long made contingency plans, but in the chaotic battlefield, it was inevitable to adopt chaotic bad habits. Moreover, many competent units had rushed to the front to crowd the breach in the city walls.
Although the Eternal God’s Selection had issued orders for several elite units to serve as reserves to guard their rear, who would want to miss the chance for slaughter? They were almost winning, yet stayed at the back of the army as auxiliaries, watching the vanguard while enjoying the slaughter with the Eternal God’s Selection?
Thus, many elite units surged to the front.
The demon officers shouted in panic, commanding those with varying degrees of mutation among the Northern folk to form rows of spear formations, standing diagonally on the ground. They drove various monsters, attempting to halt the knights’ charge.
Fairly speaking, they responded quickly.
“But before the cavalry’s charge…”
Riding her dragon Mawor, Jima muttered to herself, “Making a reactive move can be too late.”
At that moment, the third horn sounded.
The knights’ steeds accelerated, as if shifting gears, their hooves pounding the ground at an increasingly rapid frequency, moving faster and faster until their hooves were so quick they appeared as mere shadows, as if about to soar into the air.
Bang!
The knights forcefully lowered their visors, bringing down their lances.
Bang!
The lances savagely smashed into the still-forming spear formations in front, penetrating deep into the army like wedge formations, similar to their lances.
