Chapter Eighty-Seven: The Massacre
In the midst of the battlefield, a person’s sight is limited to a small area in front of them.
News of the atrocities faced at the front line is hard to transmit to the rear; only the death cries of desperate beasts reach through the dust.
But under the roars of the Beast King, the bloodthirsty desire ingrained in the beasts is ignited, their eyes turning red as they roar and charge toward the distant enemy.
They cannot let the enemy escape again!
Almost all desperate beasts share this thought.
Especially the Beast King. He was extremely infuriated with the fleeing depraved cavalry, venting his anger while leading the surrounding group of horned beasts toward the east, the direction of the agonizing cries.
Ahead, dust filled the air, visibility was low, and scattered corpses were faintly visible on the ground.
The Beast King perked up; it must be the enemy struggling. He crashed through the obstructing beast swarm, intending to personally bite off Nima’s head.
But in front, a horde of terrified desperate beasts surged out of the dust and fog, panicking and desperately fleeing, colliding with the rear trenches, tumbling to the ground, still trying to escape.
Before the Beast King had time to get angry, he saw steel bovine knights rushing out behind the fleeing desperate beasts, trampling over them as they struggled to resist. Behind them, grotesque, oversized monsters crushed everything that dared to resist.
The Blood God War Altar crashed into the beast horde, and amidst the pointed tips of the blood-draining ghouls, the Blood God priests rolled, sending those around them flying or crushing them under wheels. They were instantly dismembered, their blood spreading, causing friendly soldiers to drink it and heal their wounds.
The desperate beasts were generally unarmored, their spears snapping between the steel bovine knights and the war altar, with steel arrows barely being more than mosquito bites.
What was even more terrifying was that behind them were groups of depraved succubi, swift as lightning, sweeping toward the remaining desperate beasts. Death and piercing through, the courage of the desperate beasts, already dwindled when faced with the grotesques and steel bovine knights, vanished completely; they could not escape but could only be controlled by the depraved succubi.
The Beast King roared in fury: “Whoever escapes! Kill them! Charge with me, carve out victory!”
“Moo!” The surrounding minotaurs and great horned beasts roared in response.
Before the sound faded, several arrows fell among them, exploding into blinding flames.
“Charge! Charge!” the Beast King shouted.
A voice faintly echoed above.
“Fire in the direction of the flames!”
Above, jets of changing blue fire cruelly scorched the area around the Beast King, setting minotaurs ablaze, charring their flesh around their bones, survivors screamed, trying to extinguish the flames.
As the Beast King knocked through the gas.
Steel bovine knights charged from all directions, scattering the great horned beasts, the sound of gunfire echoed in the sky as fatal arrows rained down.
Minutes later, an arrow lodged in the Beast King’s forehead, hanging beneath Nima’s platform; before he died, he still murmured, “Carve out victory.”
The melee warbeasts at the forefront completely lost their courage, scattering in all directions.
The river’s course is curved, perfectly encircling half of this battlefield; they could only retreat or run down towards the woods.
Colliding with the depraved demon army behind them, they became entangled in chaos.
Many desperate beasts ran toward the woods like headless flies.
One desperate beast, in terror, turned back and saw the depraved cavalry; with a thud, its horn crashed against the steel breastplate, and it fell to the ground.
A shadow loomed over it. It raised its head, eyes wide with fear.
Before it stood a Blood God demon warrior, wielding a heavy battle axe, its red eyes hungrily fixed on it, whispers emanating from beneath its steel helmet: “Kill, kill, devour, feast.”
A bit of white foam dripped from beneath the steel helmet.
“Moo! No!”
The heavy battle axe fell, ending the desperate beast’s life.
Beside this Blood God demon warrior, more Blood God demon warriors, marching in neat formation and quick pace, shot forth from the red sun, their thirst for blood unable to be contained as they pounced on the enemy, like gluttonous students rushing toward the mess hall.
The melee beast throngs had nowhere to escape, driven blindly, desperately pushing their comrades toward the Karlson River.
The depraved demon army and the muck demon army found it hard to expand, even starting to break through the disarrayed troops before them. “Advance! Advance! No more squeezing in!”
They hadn’t lost order yet, and there was hope of victory. If they engaged in a hard clash, the final vanguard would expose their disadvantage in numbers, and it would spell death for the false king Nima.
Moreover, they still had the terrifying chosen hundred; it was nearly impossible for them to escape.
The depraved army roared: “Let us sing our battle song! Let everyone regain their courage!”
Before the words fell, behind the river-crossing demon army, across the riverbank.
A massive cavalry group came swiftly from the north along the river, moving at high speed; before the command to intercept the cavalry was issued, the depraved cavalry had already reached their rear.
They had pretended to flee to lure the enemy.
Second, they had circled around behind. They had crossed to the north upstream, where the river had been prepped with bridges and shallow areas, and they had already crossed the river, flanking the demon army from the side.
The morale of the river-crossing demon army took a significant hit when the flanking depraved cavalry appeared, nearly dropping to zero.
“Cross quickly!”
“Hold the bridges!”
Whether the soldiers were fleeing or brave, or acting according to some strategy, the soldiers rushed onto the three makeshift bridges.
The floating bridges couldn’t bear so many people; many fell into the icy river, or stumbled, trampled to death by their comrades.
The depraved cavalry charged toward the lucky ones crossing the river, encircling and crushing, leaving a heap of corpses, with only a few fortunate souls escaping.
The depraved cavalry still needed a portion to encircle and eliminate the enemy cavalry crossing the river.
Seeing the order disintegrate, morale plummet, and even some demon troops losing courage became unable to maintain their existence in the world.
“Unite together!”
The strong in the demon army put aside previous opposition; rank and conspiracy were no longer matters, gathering together.
Alright, it’s already crowded enough down there.
Nima looked down from above.
A chorus of shouts surrounded her. Her gaze was fixed on the floating platform, where she fought against the enraged demons closing in.
Nima returned to Efrule, calling upon the saintess Jenna, who appeared beside her on the floating platform, opening her eyes, hands clasped together in prayer, a tower shield leaning at her feet.
Saintess Jenna grasped the divine emblem, sacred light bursting forth from her fingers.
The surrounding officers of the depraved army all tactfully turned away, avoiding the blinding light, feeling a prickling sensation on their backs.
This was already an open collusion with righteous forces.
Yet no demon or cultist objected or dared to.
Nima had said: “The definition of rebellion is determined by the homeland; who does not comply?”
The army of depraved demons, the throngs of chaotic war beasts, and the Nathan demons were jammed together.
Fortunately, if Saintess Jenna had lost her sight, she might as well have blinded herself.
The oil-slicked chests of the depraved raiders rubbed against the fresh beastmen alike. Not to mention the depraved succubi, nearly entwined with the fresh beastmen, their bodies intertwined.
The almost rotten Nathan demonic beings, crowded together, sweat pouring out, maggots pushing out, landing on nearby depraved raiders’ faces, crawling into their nails, as if falling into a pile of maggot-infested excrement.
Even the transformed trolls could not stand it, screaming as they picked up clubs to strike their allies, just to vent against the muck demons.
Fortunately, the mercy of Saintess Jenna descended.
A blazing sphere of intense light fell into the crowded masses, causing unimaginable damage. Amidst the near European-style driving, the distance between people tightened, and the force to escape the fiery sphere rippled like a wave through the crowd, pushing toward the riverbank.
People could no longer bear it; crying out, they jumped into the river, the ones in front barely hitting the water when those behind them jumped in, trampling them into the muddy riverbed.
“Very good,” Nima said, “Keep going! The magic wind will take care of it.”
This time, white flames descended from the sky, bombarding the tragic demon troops below. Several divine riders on various mounts charged toward Nima: “Saintess! We won!”
A white light flashed across the sky; George with his wings unfolded brushed past the demon warrior beheaded on the scorpion-tailed lion.
“Very good! Well done.”
Nima elegantly descended beside the depraved army’s leading regiment like a war god, striking down with several swords to complement the spell of Saintess Jenna, and the heads of the depraved army fell.
She couldn’t help but get even closer to Saintess Jenna.
“Nima,” Saintess Jenna said softly, “Do not disturb me.”
A flame ignited within Nima’s heart as she whispered into Saintess Jenna’s ear:
“This little closeness is nothing; focus on your work, for the weight of saving the world is resting heavily on your shoulders.”
She seemed to feel danger glancing up from below as the battle intensified.
But no matter how disgruntled they were, they still had to watch me eat their old tofu, hee hee, because the feeling of bullying the honest person was just nice, to save the world.
Nima’s tail perked up straight.
At this moment, the branch spear in Nima’s hand called out with urgency:
“Take me up! Take me away, my dear!”
It was directed toward George, who was fighting bloody below.
Nima loosened her grip on Saintess Jenna, who was now using her magic; magic was precious, to be cherished, warning the branch spear with menace:
“Don’t mimic my speech!”
Saintess Jenna’s ears twitched.
The branch axe spear didn’t care; it bled freely, continuing to shout, “Dear! Take me away, let me have some fun.”
Nima gritted her teeth in anger.
She saw the chosen ones among the hundred rankers, standing firm amidst the chaos, ruthlessly cutting down everything in front of them, whether friend or foe, marching toward Nima’s encirclement to break through.
This was a problem; Nima felt a headache coming on.
The chosen ones were not going to flee.
In order to avoid discredit, Nima tossed the branch spear onto the battlefield and commanded the troops to pick it up, saying:
“This is my honor!”
