Chapter 164: Backstab
According to estimates, barring any unforeseen circumstances, the army of the Eternal Chosen is expected to reach the Two-Headed Dragon’s lair in about two to three days.
This conclusion was unanimously accepted by the decision-making body of the expeditionary force. They believed that with the strength of the Eternal Chosen’s army, if they abandoned a large number of northern forced soldiers, it would appear inadequate.
The officers encouraged the soldiers, saying, “We must capture this dilapidated little town within two days!”
After resting for half a day, the Kislirov expeditionary force began preparations for the siege.
They arranged the troops for the assault and assigned tasks to the strong. Unsurprisingly, Jima was assigned an unimportant reconnaissance mission far from the front lines, hovering in the air as a humanoid aerial alarm.
It seemed that as long as Jima reached the front lines, she would have the opportunity to steal the fragments of the Demon King’s crown.
However, Jima had no objections.
As long as the battle situation became chaotic, and with her unparalleled mobility, there would always be opportunities.
Thus, Jima stretched her wings and floated above the besieging army.
On the ring-shaped mountain, lightning occasionally struck, entwining the towering black tower, and the rumbling thunder came from the clouds, yet the ring-shaped mountain remained unusually quiet.
It was clearly the Two-Headed Dragon’s lair, yet there was no sign of the dragon; it had not appeared.
Jima looked down at the wish compass in her palm, the needle firmly pointing at the black tower surrounded by lightning, confirming once again that the Two-Headed Dragon was inside the tower.
She recalled that everyone had intentionally or unintentionally overlooked something.
What if the Two-Headed Dragon realized it was outmatched and flew away, flapping its wings?
There would be no way to stop it; having wings was a significant advantage.
They all seemed to have a tacit understanding not to mention this issue.
Anyway, putting oneself in the dragon’s position, if she were that dragon, she would definitely collapse the lair, seal the treasure, flap her wings, and fly away, waiting until the army was exhausted before striking.
A sharp horn sounded from below, interrupting Jima’s thoughts.
She looked down.
Below, the Kislirov soldiers were like ants, carrying freshly made ladders. In front of the ladder squad were a dozen large shields, which could only be lifted by two people, moving forward slowly.
This siege formation could only be described as quite shabby.
There were no battering rams, siege towers, or counterweight trebuchets; there were only foolish goblins leaving behind a campsite that looked like a pile of garbage.
The primary attack direction for the Kislirov army was the left side of the city wall, which looked the easiest to breach, having several gaps simply blocked by rubble. The goblins on the wall drew their nomadic soft bows, firing arrows of questionable accuracy that landed on shields and armor, with more falling to the ground.
The Kislirov archers retaliated, their arrows forming arcs in the air, falling like waterfalls upon the city wall.
The goblin archers screamed and cried, retreating behind the parapets, huddling together, occasionally drawing their bows, gathering courage to shoot an arrow, but at that moment, a cunning goblin companion would steal their position.
Beside them, the towering corrupted ogres were very impatient. The arrows stuck into their tough skin only caused minor pinpricks. They pulled out the arrows, and their wounds healed in no time. But standing there taking hits made them quite displeased.
The corrupted ogres dragged goblins from behind the parapets, forcing them into the open. A flurry of arrows quickly took down the goblin archers in their hands. Once they confirmed the goblins were dead, they pulled out the arrows, bit off the heads of the goblins with a crunch, and continued to drag out new goblin archers.
The effect was significant; many goblins were killed or wounded, and they tried to escape. The overstuffed corrupted ogres grabbed them and threw them into the crowd below.
By the time the ladders were set against the city wall, the exchange of fire had ended.
The casualties from goblin arrows among the Kislirov soldiers were several times higher than those killed by their arrows.
The corrupted ogres stood in front of the ladders, swinging large clubs, ready to smash the next one.
But the first to ascend the city wall was Beow, wielding the Holy Sword. A wooden club as thick as half a coffin struck his head but could not budge him, as the Holy Sword’s brilliance shone forth.
One by one, the corrupted ogres fell, leaving a clear space on the city wall. The Kislirov soldiers advanced up the ladders, their morale soaring.
The light of the Holy Sword was too piercing for Jima; she averted her gaze.
The strong squad attacked smoothly, blasting open the city wall using gunpowder—what’s called gunpowder in this world—without wasting a drop of magical power.
As a cloud of white smoke rose, the poorly constructed city wall gained another breach, with debris flying everywhere.
A sharp copper horn sounded, and a group of strong, tall Kislirov heavy infantry, armed with ice-blade weapons, surged towards the breach.
In an instant, heads surged at the gap.
Above the dense crowd, a dark spot appeared, rapidly expanding into a black vortex, as if connected to an abyss of darkness, the center pitch black. A terrifying pulling force yanked the surrounding heavy infantry into the center black hole, as soldiers screamed, engulfed in darkness.
The abyss of darkness.
Jima searched for the enemy’s battlefield mage among the chaos.
A minute later, she finally spotted the enemy’s battlefield mage, scales covering his chest, his head held high, with ears that were not pointed, appearing to have once been human.
Beow’s squad captured him, slicing this human mage, who sought dark knowledge, in half amidst the enemy ranks.
The darkness abyss dissipated, leaving behind nearly two hundred twisted corpses piled on the ground.
But this merely halted the offensive.
A waiting group of vanguards replaced the half-destroyed troops, charging towards the breach.
The siege battle continued for three to four hours, fully capturing a long stretch of the left city wall.
Jima estimated that if things continued so smoothly, they might take the place by evening.
Although the expeditionary force had little siege equipment, they had plenty of strong individuals, with platinum-tier extraordinary beings in abundant supply.
At this moment, the fog of war began to dissipate, spreading towards the Two-Headed Dragon’s lair, the mist hazy, obscuring nothing.
The mist began to clear.
Did this mean that the beasts lurking in the war fog had stretched out their claws, prepared to attack?
Jima shivered and turned to look towards the rear of the expeditionary army.
In the billowing fog, two giants appeared, leaving a footprint with every step they took. They were corrupted giants, their heads larger than a cart, sporting a blood-red horn, wielding a large iron rod covered in rusty spikes.
On their chests, a bloody mark of the demon race was etched with knife and axe—a symbol of eight arrows, each spaced about 45 degrees apart, pointing in all directions.
Bright glowing points surged from beside them. As they drew near, Jima could see they were demon knights. They rode armored corrupted steeds, their eyes glowing red, fresh blood staining their mouths, carrying their bloodthirsty masters straight towards the rear of the expeditionary army.
Behind them was a throng of corrupted war hounds, as numerous as migrating horned cattle, a tumultuous mass, yet all moving in the same direction, driven by a thirst for flesh, they overwhelmed the demon knights like a black tsunami, surging towards the rear of the expeditionary army.
Where did all these dogs come from?
Jima felt a bit dizzy; the intelligence from a few days ago was outdated. For some unknown reason, the Eternal Chosen Marus was able to command the hordes of dogs in the wasteland.
From the mist, a zombie dragon burst forth. The zombie dragon flew above the giants, demon knights, and corrupted war hounds. On its back, the Eternal Chosen Marus stood as straight as a pillar, with a ring of crown teeth hovering over his helmet, missing only one piece.
He noticed Jima’s gaze and suddenly raised his head, the crimson sword tip aimed directly at Jima. A murderous intent surged through Jima’s body, nearly causing her heart to stop.
