His sight followed the sharp red and black gun tip as it continued to advance, breaking through the cool chill in the air. As it moved at high speed, the surroundings became blurred, only the enemy in front became clearer and clearer. The hot air exhaling from the gap in the helmet and the gray-blue pupils revealed in the steel became more and more within reach.
The two groups of knights charging at high speed on the ground collided with each other like a giant hammer and a sharp sword, causing violent sparks and loud noises.
The high-speed lance stabbed like a migrating poisonous snake, piercing through the thick armor in an instant, bringing out hot blood from the back.
A muffled groan escaped from beneath the armor covering his face, and then a sturdy hand grasped the spear on his chest and swung the axe. The heavy axe struck the opponent's head with a whistling sound, smashing the armor and the head into pieces. The axe exploded like a tomato, and blood splattered into the armor covering his face, drawing a gasp of relief.
Pulling out the blood-red spear that had pierced his chest, the orc forced himself to move forward again, opening his arms to face a cavalryman approaching at high speed, letting the sharp spear pierce his chest, and then swung down his heavy axe, splitting the opponent in half, including the horse.
"Hehe." The blood foam gushed out of his mouth and overflowed from the gaps in his armor. He tried hard to open his eyes and look for the next opponent in his narrow and blurry vision, so that he could kill one more enemy before he died.
Faced with these heavy orc cavalry, the Blood Lance Knights' first charge caused heavy casualties. Thousands of elite orc cavalry were directly pierced by the spears like blood bags and fell in the cold grass and mud.
But their sacrifice was not in vain. After killing the first row of cavalry, the impact force of the Blood Lance Knights was exhausted by their heavy bodies and armor. Then the orcs holding the lances began their counterattack before death. The heavy axes chopped off the rebellious heads one by one, letting them sleep with them in the wilderness.
Clang! The giant axe slashed across the helmet fiercely, leaving long spark scratches on it and knocking it directly away.
The Blood Lance Knight, without his helmet, his face exposed to the air in shock and astonishment. He stared at the towering figure before him, clutching the spear tightly against his chest before collapsing. Without his weapon and speed, he was quickly surrounded and killed by the orcs rushing in from behind, falling under the chaotic volley of halberds and heavy axes.
Such scenes were constantly played out on the plains. After these two elite cavalry units charged towards each other, the danger and cruelty involved would be even more intense than that of ordinary cavalry.
The two sides ran and collided with each other on the grass, boiling blood splashed from time to time, and one after another, companions or enemies fell on the grass where the morning dew had not dried.
"Turn right." Darcy swept the blood spear in his hand across the front, picking off the head of an orc, and then shouted an order, asking the subordinates behind him to follow him and speed up again, adjusting the direction and formation.
He led the cavalry behind him to attack the enemy's formation at high speed, and while temporarily avoiding the enemy's peak, he continued to cut into this powerful legion from the side and rear.
But this time it was not as smooth as before. These well-trained orc cavalry strictly followed orders, formed tightly, and continued to approach and attack with a slower but unstoppable momentum, while both sides continued to lose men in the battle.
The lances scraped across the axe blades, creating sharp sparks. When the Blood Lance Knights had lost nearly a quarter of their men, Darcy began to consciously adjust his strategy. He looked for opportunities, charged again, and then turned back with his men, preparing to retreat.
He was not an irrational commander. After realizing that this enemy army could not be easily defeated, he would temporarily avoid its edge and look for its weaknesses and opportunities later.
A cloud of dust billowed across the ground. After another confrontation, the black and red cavalry turned collectively, changing their route at a rapid speed and separating from the orc cavalry. They broke through to one side.
In the open wilderness, a small group of people blocked the path.
Leading the group was a figure with curved ram horns, riding on a tall horse. She was the deputy commander of this orc army. In her hand was a simple and complex copper spear, on which were engraved incantations as complex as scriptures.
Facing the black and red cavalry that broke through, the Sheep Horn Tribe general raised his palms and performed a magic together with the other shamans beside him.
Crimson flames appeared beside him like silk threads. These flames seemed to come from the void, gathering little by little from a scattered state onto ribbon-like silk threads, swaying in the wind.
"I hear a signal from the flames, all sorrow will turn to ashes in crimson."
These incomparably hot threads of flame that distorted the atmosphere became extremely wild under the surge of the spell. After the last spark was incorporated, they twisted wildly like mad snakes and then suddenly expanded.
Dozens...
Hundreds...
Thousands...
The scarlet threads of flames charged frantically across the field like tens of millions of flaming snakes. They tore through the atmosphere, distorted vision, burned the earth, and rushed low over the field towards the group of black and red cavalry, drowning them.
These fire snakes were like red-hot iron wires, cutting through the armor, weapons, and bodies they touched, instantly vaporizing and cutting them in the high temperature.
Faced with this sudden casualty, Darcy's pupils under the mask turned cold, and the bloody gun in his hand was tightly grasped by a strong arm, and then shot out like a meteor.
The black and red spear instantly plowed a furrow in the field, piercing through the Sheep Horn Tribe general, and the blood spear flew through the air into the sky behind.
"Cough..." Covering the blood in her mouth, she gripped the scripture gun tightly in her hand, condensed the magic power again, and poured it into it.
The black and red cavalry, who had suffered heavy casualties, were still galloping across the land. Black smoke was coming out of their bodies, and there were many thread-like burn marks on their bodies, but with the blessing and sharing of extraordinary abilities, they still maintained their powerful strength.
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