The mages in the team immediately raised the barrier, realizing that their biggest enemy was not the cannon fire, but the completely out-of-control army.
Not only was there the disordered crowd, but also the warhorses frightened and being dragged away, which became the source of chaos at the narrow mouth of the valley.
Some inexperienced professionals still tried to reorganize the ranks, while the truly experienced veterans had already huddled with their attendants in a corner, maintaining the magical barrier and conserving their strength.
No one paid attention to Lucanus, whose shattered form left behind an intact mouth that was still speaking on the ground, even without a throat or brain.
“That’s right, this is the feeling, this is the flavor, ah~ it’s just too wonderful!”
As the mouth spoke, an invisible force delivered scattered noses from elsewhere and pieced them together above the mouth.
The nose greedily inhaled the air around.
“Ah, the scent of blood and fire, so wonderful, so violent, this will surely become the cornerstone of the Empire.”
That invisible force then extracted eyeballs from the crevices of stones and placed them in their rightful positions.
“This is the scene! This is the most magnificent prologue of an epic, ah~ I can feel it, I can feel it, the glory of the Empire is gradually returning! A thousand years, a full thousand years, hahahaha! The brain, the brain is trembling!”
While the mouth spoke, the invisible force had already absorbed all the brain matter back, causing it to vibrate along with the mouth.
At this moment, the coalition forces in the valley were also being bombarded mercilessly; although chaotic, they were still able to barely hold on. The ones breaking apart were the ordinary people’s armies, while the professionals had already retracted their forces, raised the barrier, and in the midst of chaos, no one cared whether the barriers or positions of the professionals belonged to their own side; everyone was squeezing towards the open barriers, further exacerbating the chaos.
What truly led to the collapse of the coalition forces was the chaos of the vanguard troops.
The bad news was that although the enemy had set up cannons in the forest, the terrain outside the valley was open. Despite the First Army Group blocking the entrance, due to the influence of the ambush, it wasn’t as great as that in the valley.
The dire news was that amidst the cannon fire, a cavalry unit wielding the banner of Duke Lars charged out through the smoke.
“Duke Lars has resurrected!”
“Duke Lars hasn’t died at all!”
Seeing this banner, the nobles and soldiers shouted, immediately creating turmoil.
Lena, dressed in a replica of Duke Lars’s massive armor, led the cavalry towards the coalition’s ranks.
Following Lind’s orders, Lena specifically targeted the nobles clad in magnificent armor; with her knightly presence fully activated, she moved through the chaos as if in an unguarded realm, crushing everyone in her path, even with ill-fitting armor.
Before the lead noble could react, Lars’s ancestral battle axe struck him heavily, shattering all enchantments and runes, killing him instantly.
The gradually condensing chill from the knightly presence and the most elite knights of Lars hinted at the identity of this charging unit.
Amidst the roar of the cannons, Lena resembled a resurrected evil spirit from hell, swinging her battle axe and cutting down one noble after another.
Countless spells were chaotically hurled at these Lars knights, yet no one dared to mock the Lars knights anymore. The knights, once derisively called turtles, became an unstoppable force once they entered the chaotic frontlines—ordinary spells couldn’t even break their defenses, and in close combat, the Lars knights became a lethal presence for these professionals.
Some calm nobles quickly figured out that the Duke Lars was a disguise by Lena, but it was already too late; the news of Duke Lars’s resurrection spread throughout the entire team amidst the chaos, becoming the final straw that broke the coalition.
The morale of the entire coalition plummeted with the news of Duke Lars’s resurrection. While some slightly competent nobles began stabilizing morale and organizing counterattacks, the truly wise nobles had already begun to lead their troops in search of an escape.
Regardless of whether Duke Lars had truly been resurrected, the effect Lena created was indistinguishable from that of Duke Lars.
Under normal circumstances, even if Lena was formidable, once held back by the frontline troops, her influence would be limited.
However, with the frontline being shattered by cannon fire, the professionals couldn’t even begin to join forces to limit Lena. They were already exerting their utmost to protect themselves.
But as Jefferson said, even with fifty thousand pigs, they couldn’t catch them all. Soon, the professionals who had regrouped began to counterattack, with some even using pitfall magic to delay Lena’s actions.
Within the coalition were indeed strong professionals. After one used pitfall magic, he quickly organized the surrounding personnel, shouting, “This Duke Lars is fake; if we can hold them back, our counterattack will succeed!”
Soon more professionals realized this issue and began to cluster around that professional. Those horrific explosions must have been from some explosive catapult used by the enemy, not magic.
And the Lars knights were notoriously lacking in ranged capabilities. That fake duke could use her presence to build paths while ignoring the pitfalls, but the knights around her could not do so. Although this was merely a delaying tactic, as long as they could hold the opponent back, they could rely on their numbers to wait for the opportunity to counterattack.
In the next second, the second-tier molten fire rays poured down like rain.
With the arrival of the Lars knights, the cannon fire in the forest gradually stopped, but the First Army Group had already charged with the Lars knights, and began providing fire support in place of cannons.
The secretary waved the flag and led the charge, soldiers equipped with ray guns and tactical backpacks surged out from their ambush spots, moving onto the battlefield in coordination with the knights to begin the harvest.
Darsi’s finger on the trigger felt somewhat numb; this weapon was far easier to use than a bow and arrow. When he acted as a wild hunter, he hit every shot; with the ray gun, he could hit wherever it lit up.
It didn’t matter whether the light came from the nobles’ enchantment runes or the mages’ spell models; they just shot and that was it.
The nobles’ splendid runes and magic had instead become death warrants on the battlefield.
Everything came to an end. With support from the ray guns, the knights filled the last gaps; the Lars knights struck recklessly against the opposing banners with their iron bodies.
Nobles increasingly cast aside their banners, stripped off their capes, and even removed their heavy armor, fleeing in all directions with their attendants.
The news of Duke Lars’s resurrection along with his loyal knights spread quickly throughout every corner of the coalition.
When the nobles, bombarded by artillery in the valley, heard this news, they immediately recalled their professionals who were still struggling to hold on and fled towards the outskirts of the valley.
Foolish people believed that Duke Lars had truly resurrected or perhaps had never died. At this time, they should quickly escape back to their territories and distance themselves from the coalition to avoid being implicated.
The smart ones had already guessed that Duke Lars was a fake, but that was not important; even if the current illusion was false, it was still real. They fled while capitalizing on this illusion to preserve their strength, ready to continue escaping and maintaining neutrality.
The nobles at the back began their retreat without looking back, followed immediately by the professionals who came with them, all of whom were merely there to tag along. How much could a month’s pay be worth? Why risk their lives?
This coalition formed out of self-interest ultimately fractured to protect their own interests; no one wanted to step out and turn the tide.
Standing on the mountaintop, Lauri looked at the flickering lights of the ray guns in the distance and said, “It seems like it’s over down there; the First Army Group has already begun to harvest.”
Glancing at the corpses strewn across the valley, Lauri sighed, “Did they really bring only cooks? I thought someone would charge up the valley for us to have a tug-of-war; I was even ready to make sacrifices.”
Beside him, Ulanda incredulously asked, “It’s over?”
“No.”
Lauri aimed his ray gun at the bottom of the valley and said, “Don’t relax; the war isn’t over yet. Stay alert; dying at this moment would be a huge loss.”
“And the real battlefield lies in cleaning up the remnants afterwards. A fifty-thousand-strong army collapses quickly, but how do we prevent the opponent from rising again with our small forces, which will be far more difficult than defeating them now.”
Ulanda still felt a strong sense of unreality, watching in horror as the crowd fled, discarding their helmets and armor. She could sense that many professionals below had not even exerted their full strength, simply offering token resistance before retracting to preserve their strength. Was the war truly ending like this?
At that moment, Sean, disguised as a laborer, looked at the corpses in the valley, a distorted smile spreading across his face.
Did they win? Did they really win?
The lord of Graywhite Territory, no, it should be the brother-in-law, just won like this?
Squatting next to the cannon, Sean’s legs trembled. If he were in their position, would he have won too? He didn’t know, but even if he possessed these weapons, his first thought would definitely be to wait for support. After all, these cannons were not mobile; they were probably designed for use during a siege.
At that moment, Sean finally understood why his grandfather always said he lacked the resolve to bet everything. Looking at this victory before him, Sean clearly realized that he perhaps was not suitable for the position of heir.
Indeed, this position should belong to the lord of Graywhite Territory, no, the brother-in-law; only he could lead him to seek revenge, and only the brother-in-law, who mastered these techniques, was truly fit to inherit Lars’s legacy.
Only the brother-in-law could make Lars great again.
Colin’s gaze was even more frenzied. He felt that the battles he fought with his uncles in the past were merely trivial skirmishes compared to this. The past extortion and exploitation were utterly meaningless; no amount of wealth could replace the joy of victory at this moment. Even standing on the mountaintop and firing cannons brought Colin immense satisfaction.
Battle, exhilarating!
