Chapter 113: Blood Rain
When Ji Ma was a lord of the demon race, she favored mobile troops represented by cavalry, as cavalry had many advantages. During a charge, they could devastate the enemy and crush morale after breaking through formations, often achieving victory with fewer numbers and creating miracles.
People are often intoxicated by the might of cavalry charges, viewing it as the entirety of cavalry, and various literary works prefer to boast about the grand scenes of cavalry charges.
But if you were to ask Ji Ma, who was once famous for her cavalry tactics, what she liked most about cavalry, she would certainly answer: mobility.
Why?
Because in dire situations, they could directly retreat, and the enemy could not catch up.
However, if you were to ask her what the principle of cavalry victory was, she would definitely reply that mobility brings initiative, striking the strong with the weak and amplifying advantages.
And Ji Ma now instinctively applied the principle of cavalry victory.
She sang as she left George, who was continuing the rescue, and swept past Eve Frostleaf who was entangled with several ratmen, charging straight at the butcher Grett, who was battling two strong ratmen, like a shrieking banshee.
The ratman chieftain, riding on the rat ogre, was startled and turned around, swinging his green-tinged magical sword at Ji Ma.
Ji Ma charged towards him at full speed, gripping her axe spear tightly, like a knight charging on horseback, aiming the spear tip at his head. But at a point where she could have counted the hairs on the rat ogre’s body, she expended the painful power and made a ninety-degree turn, bypassing the ratman chieftain and executing a feigned charge, with her true target being the opponent locked in a fierce battle with the butcher Grett.
“Watch out! Steal—”
Ji Ma heard the ratman chieftain warn his companion. The other party quickly assessed her intent, but in the face of such speed, his warning only distracted his comrade.
Ji Ma saw her target hurriedly turn its head, but unfortunately, Ji Ma struck from above, stabbing with her spear, landing a hit right in the back of the neck. The target toppled forward and fell off its “mount.”
Ji Ma executed another sharp turn and saw the butcher Grett behead the enemy that had fallen off; however, his mount, the rat ogre, lunged toward Grett. Ji Ma collided with the wounded rat ogre, her axe spear plunged deep inside, and the wound immediately expanded, the ogre’s sharp teeth and long tongue digging into the injury to suck up blood.
The already wounded rat ogre was now on the verge of death.
But at this moment, Ji Ma stopped. The remaining ratman chieftain had fallen into a kind of madness, screaming:
“I want to see what tricks you have left!”
He charged on the rat ogre, standing upright as he leaped towards Ji Ma, swinging his long sword at her.
Three words slipped from her cherry lips:
“Bald Strong.”
Suddenly, a tall black-armored warrior appeared in the air beside her, and without a word, a steel fist slammed into the ratman chieftain’s side, hitting him on the face. His eyes went wide as he turned his head, and his whole body fell off the bridge into the fiery lava river below.
The ratman chieftain’s mount crashed into the rat ogre beneath Ji Ma, and taking advantage of the momentum, she rolled backward, withdrew her “branch axe spear,” spread her wings, and flew again.
At that moment, the butcher Grett jumped up, driving his axe into the rat ogre’s knee. Before the beast could let out a sound of pain, Bald Strong came from behind and cleaved the rat ogre’s ugly and massive head off. The pain power also surged into Ji Ma’s chest, replenishing the energy she had just expended.
The butcher Grett pulled out his axe, eagerly rubbed his ears, and after finishing, he opened them wide, greedily listening to Felix’s singing.
If the bard Felix’s song gave people the hope to fight until death, filling them with honor as they rushed toward their demise, then Ji Ma’s voice was like tossing someone into a stainless steel coffin and sinking them into icy sea water, and it wasn’t over yet, as ten banshees scratched at the coffin’s exterior with their sharp nails.
Fortunately, the succubus stopped singing.
He greeted Ji Ma, “Hi, your summoned creature looks quite impressive.”
“Get up there,” Ji Ma said. “We need to be faster.”
“Ah?”
Bald Strong walked over, lifted the butcher Grett up, and slung him over his shoulder, speeding towards the battle about two hundred meters away where Eve Frostleaf was still entangled with the ratmen on the stone bridge.
Ji Ma flew beside Bald Strong, saying, “Get ready.”
Bald Strong braced himself against the butcher Grett’s backside.
The butcher Grett had a bad feeling: “What kind of preparation?”
“Preparation to fly.”
No sooner had she finished speaking than Bald Strong suddenly hurled the butcher Grett forward as if throwing a shot put, sending him directly toward the ratmen. More terrifying than weightlessness was Ji Ma’s high-pitched voice, so enthusiastic that it made the butcher Grett suspect that a pig was being wrongfully executed.
It completely overwhelmed the distant bard Felix’s song. As the butcher Grett flipped in the air, he happened to see the bard Felix collapse on the ground from the railing of the stone bridge.
Before the butcher Grett had time to think, he was about to land amidst a group of rat ogres and six ratman champions, who were besetting Eve Frostleaf. They quickly noticed the flying butcher Grett, and two ratmen, armed with long spears crackling with green lightning, aimed at him.
“Stab that dwarf thing! Stab him!”
This was not the death I wanted, at least not while listening to that kind of song before dying.
The butcher Grett shouted, “No!!!”
Ji Ma focused her mind, and Bald Strong leaped upward, catching the butcher Grett and pulling him down. Before the dwarf could exhale in relief, Bald Strong, with a twisted lip, uttered cruel words: “Get ready.”
Ji Ma yelled, “Whirlwind Charge!”
Bald Strong changed his angle and forcefully slammed the butcher Grett into the battlefield. The pitiful butcher Grett charged like a cannonball, directly crashing into the stomach of a rat ogre.
At the same time, Ji Ma cast a curse upon this group of enemies, visibly slowing their movements, their limbs growing weak. Although she intended to conserve mana, the duration wasn’t long, but it was enough.
Suddenly, three strong enemies charged in, and the ratmen champions were unable to withstand them. The butcher Grett spun around the battlefield like a whirlwind, allowing Eve Frostleaf to escape, lifting herself into the air to shoot out her swords. Bald Strong simply wielded his sword like a common man, not using any extraordinary abilities.
Even more terrifying, Ji Ma acted like a shark, watching from the side, ready to harvest any severely wounded when they fell, always accompanied by her chilling song.
One rat ogre after another collapsed, or tumbled off the stone bridge into the surging lava river. The last ratman champion attempted to flee amidst a tossed smoke bomb, but Ji Ma still caught him, cleaving his head in half at the junction of the stone bridge and the stronghold with her axe spear, blood gushing as her long fangs and tongue drank it in.
First, defeat the weaker enemies to liberate one’s side, then with that momentum, support the hardest and most concerning battlefield for Ji Ma.
She lifted her head, looking ahead. Amid the rat ogres’ frenzied attacks, a ray of white light shined.
George was still alive; he was still standing.
The red-armored ratman warlord turned around, his red eyes meeting Ji Ma’s gaze. He deliberately raised his sword, which was smeared with blood, some of it glimmering gold. He started speaking, but Ji Ma couldn’t make out what he said, partly due to the battlefield noise and partly because she was singing.
However, she could read his lips, and it seemed he was saying: “Too late.”
With a toll of a bell, a large group of clan ratmen swarmed out from the city tunnel, blind and hairless ratman plague priests waved staffs adorned with bells and exuded a green plague aura. In the green mist, the ratmen became ecstatically high, as if on drugs.
The rescue team had delayed for too long, allowing the previously scattered ratmen to regain their organization and return to the battlefield.
Ji Ma finally felt relieved.
I thought the storm rats had arrived to support.
Like a seductive shadow, she swooped around the battlefield. She saw that all the ratmen had, to some extent, a trace of white mist in their chests, which represented the pain she had inflicted.
Clearly, her earlier display of valiant combat had stung these cowardly ratmen, naturally despicable in nature.
As long as she unleashed the “Wail of the Banshee,” the pain within their hearts would resonate with the “Wail of the Banshee,” causing mental damage that could kill them.
However, this bit of pain was still not enough to kill this group of ratmen.
Yet the “branch axe spear” in Ji Ma’s hand was already filled with blood. The runes on the weapon glowed painfully red, and blood even flowed from the runes.
Ji Ma forcefully threw the “branch axe spear” into the city tunnel, piercing a hapless victim. The “branch axe spear” lodged into his corpse, standing at an angle.
Ji Ma roared, “Blood Rain, fall!”
Her shout was a little late.
Blood rain appeared out of nowhere, a wild wind swirling, carrying blood droplets that lashed against everyone present. The droplets struck against armor, producing a sound like metal clashing, soaking through clothing, moistening skin with a prickling sensation. When it hit the skin, it felt like being cut by a utility knife. Wounds opened up and bled freely.
Though for the strong, it was merely unpleasant, for the clan rats, ordinary ratmen, it obscured their sight; they saw their injured companions suddenly fall beneath the blood rain. Hesitating, the whip fell, warning them not to retreat, insisting they stay in this hell to suffer.
In Ji Ma’s eyes, beneath the blood storm, many ratmen bore a bright white pain. She used the “Wail of the Banshee” for the second time, the last time being in the Kason principality during the battle against the beastmen.
It was like a mass of entangled vengeful souls forming in her lungs, pouring out of her mouth. Her ears were filled with a variety of noises.
Ji Ma had a strange thought: would George’s perception of her beautiful voice be affected if he heard me making such a dreadful sound?
Visible white waves spread from her center in all directions.
The white pain in the ratmen’s chests burst outward. Their hearts exploded; they opened their mouths wide, their eyes turned white, collapsing in pools of blood like rows of fallen rice.
In just a few seconds, only a few ratmen stood on the battlefield; even the whip-wielding officer shouted and fled, scrambling back into the city tunnel.
Ji Ma withdrew her branch axe spear and, along with the butcher Grett, Eve Frostleaf, and Bald Strong, charged into the battlefield. They dragged out the severely wounded George, who was limping with one of his thigh’s armored plates missing, his thigh bloodied like crushed strawberry jam.
The other wounds were too many to count.
Ji Ma’s heart ached at the sight, her eyes reddening as she supported George to the stone bridge and handed him to Eve Frostleaf, who was also injured; her thigh wound was still bleeding, but it looked far better than George, who seemed on the verge of death.
“Quickly, break the stone bridge for me.”
Without needing Ji Ma to remind her, Eve Frostleaf already had this intention. She had prepared by softening the bridge’s surface, although it was hard to say how much of this was due to her disdain for dwarven constructions.
A section of the bridge broke, creating a gap of about five meters. Strong individuals could leap over easily, and Ji Ma and Bald Strong stood guard at the gap.
The red-armored ratman warlord, along with the five other rat champions, rode on rat ogres, standing behind the gap, showing no intention of pursuing; especially the red-armored ratman warlord, who scanned Bald Strong and the blood-mad Ji Ma.
The demon and the rat locked eyes; the red-armored ratman warlord could sense the immense power of Bald Strong. Yet he did not realize that Ji Ma had little magic left, and Bald Strong’s role at this moment was merely to keep the line.
He raised his sword, and together with his subordinates, turned around, retreating amidst Ji Ma’s soaring yet pained song.
