This undoubtedly stirred up a hornet's nest in the Supreme Council.
In order to prove their innocence and expose the traitors, the council will inevitably require the Thirteenth Knights to enter the heart of the swamp in the most powerful manner and thoroughly wipe out the relevant strongholds.
The large-scale movement of the orcs provided Alfonso with the perfect excuse to turn the tables and strike at the heart of the enemy's territory.
Protect the stronghold, track down the traitors, and cleanse the land of the dead.
Everything was on his chessboard.
Of course, Alfonso knew that the high-ranking church officials who stayed in the Holy City year-round were definitely not the masterminds of the rebellion, because what they received was actually no more than some of those on the front lines!
Eileen nodded knowingly; she was well aware of Alfonso's plan.
She stroked the equipment in her waist compartment, feeling the cool-to-the-touch black gold star-moon charms inside, a glint of anticipation flashing in her eyes.
The star power of the Holy Light Church is getting closer and closer to her.
"Alright, I've finished my work. Now it's your turn. Remember, you owe me two black gold coins."
She reiterated the payment, and then her figure vanished into thin air like ink spreading in water.
————
The cold, black muddy water, reeking of a strong, putrid stench of the dead, instantly submerged Elliot's knees and then rapidly spread upwards.
He paid no heed to the fact that his expensive recorder's robes were soaked with filth, leaving only a cold, urgent command:
"Drop the load! High alert! Follow me! Into the deep water! Quickly!"
Without looking back, he waded into the deeper, waist-deep mud.
"Discard the weight! Follow the recorder!" Kyle's roar carried an unquestionable command.
"Go!" Mark's voice was equally decisive. The black cross necklace hummed in his hand, and a layer of condensed holy light shield instantly enveloped the outermost edge of the team.
Without the slightest hesitation, the members of the Grey Falcon Squad gritted their teeth and threw their heavy packs, spare weapons, and even some supplies into the mud behind them.
Not everyone has spatial equipment, and even if they do, the space is pitifully small, not enough for them to put everything in.
The sounds of splashing into the water rang out one after another, and the icy, filthy, and viscous black water instantly enveloped everyone.
The strong stench of death and decay filled my nose and mouth, making me nauseous, but the instinct for survival overcame the physical discomfort.
Ron, Darren, and the other young men from the Holy City were pale-faced, but they suppressed their fear and trudged through the mud on all fours.
Veterans like Scarface Rick and Mole Jim demonstrated their extensive experience by choosing seemingly more solid underwater surfaces to land on.
However, the ten apprentice knights, including Oak, as well as Mark, Ruby, and others who had experience as adventurers, seemed quite composed at this moment.
Kyle and Mark brought up the rear, and the two different colors of light reflected each other, forming a brief light curtain that blocked some of the remaining scent.
Monica then used her disguise skills to further disguise them, making it difficult for anyone to continue tracking them for a short period of time.
Even knowing that an orc army was following behind them.
Elliott's figure remained resolute even in the murky water.
He was like the most accurate compass, guiding the team through waist-deep, putrid mud towards the area where the aura of the dead was strongest, as they raced desperately.
Every attempt by the orcs to flank seemed to be thwarted in advance by his cold and concise commands.
Icy mud splashed onto their faces and soaked their collars. The deathly drumbeats followed them like a shadow. The Gray Falcon Squad was embarking on a desperate race against death in the swamp of despair.
————
“The time has come.” Alfonso’s voice was deep and powerful, like a tolling bell echoing over a suffocating swamp.
His resolute face showed no superfluous expression, only an unwavering determination.
"The orcs have moved, and the evidence of their rebellion has been obtained. It's time to thoroughly cleanse this filth of the Lor Swamp. There's no need to clean up the scattered undead areas anymore; the real battlefield is in the 'Blackwater Shallows'."
He turned to face the main force of the Thirteenth Holy Knights, who stood solemnly behind him.
Holy flames silently ignited around him, dispelling the cold and damp air and igniting the dormant flames in the eyes of all the knights.
No need for rousing speeches; his will is the will of the legion.
"Send the order to the pass!" Alfonso commanded his adjutant beside him, his voice resolute. "In my name, Alfonso Lin, notify the Ninth, Tenth, and Eleventh Holy Knights to set off immediately, target Blackwater Shallows! Form an encirclement and annihilate the main force of the orcs!"
The adjutant pounded his chest with his right fist and immediately set up a communication array to formally notify the three major knight orders located in the human pass in the name of the Thirteenth Holy Knights.
Alfonso's gaze fell upon the perpetual miasma deep within the swamp, as if piercing through space to reach the distant, dark waters.
He certainly knew why the orcs were acting.
The Heart of Bloodvine, that incredibly tempting bait, is currently being kept by the recorder Elliott as the Grey Falcon Squad operates in the shallows.
The orcs' fury and main force will surely be firmly pinned down there.
"The Thirteenth Holy Knights!" Alfonso's voice boomed like thunder, carrying unparalleled authority and chilling intent. "Target: the outer perimeter of Blackwater Shoals! Concealed march, await encirclement!"
"For the Holy Light!" The unified, low roar shook the swamp.
A forest of gleaming lances were raised, their sacred light briefly piercing the thick fog before being deliberately concealed.
Heavy hooves, encased in mute spell runes, shattered the decaying mud.
Led by Alfonso, this steel torrent, like a lurking behemoth, silently rolled toward the predetermined ambush point, minimizing its own presence.
...
Time slipped away in anxious waiting.
Like rocks blending into the shadows of a swamp, the Thirteenth Knights lay dormant in an area on the outskirts of the Blackwater Shore, filled with jagged rocks and withered giant trees.
A heavy, oppressive atmosphere filled the air, broken only by the occasional snorting of warhorses and the faint scraping of armor.
Finally, a scout, covered in mud, slipped through the pre-set security array like a ghost, knelt on one knee before Alfonso, his voice hoarse from a long march:
"Commander! The Ninth and Eleventh Holy Knights have arrived at their designated positions and entered the Blackwater Shallows as ordered! The Ninth Regiment is on the northeast flank of the target location, and the Eleventh Regiment is on the southwest flank of the Ninth Regiment. They have already engaged in sporadic firefights with the orc scouts on the outskirts and are establishing a defensive line!"
Alfonso nodded slightly; this was within his expectations.
Commander Harrington of the Ninth Regiment was upright and incorruptible, while Earl Ferdinand of the Eleventh Regiment, though somewhat aristocratic, was a man of strict discipline and capable of effective action.
The scout took a breath, his voice lower and more grave: "But... the Tenth Holy Knights... have yet to be seen! Our men have repeatedly searched their planned routes, but found no trace of any large-scale march!"
Alfonso's eyes suddenly sharpened like a hawk's, a sharp glint flashing in them.
The 10th Regiment... was indeed absent.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
