A dense barrage of holy light arrows, a wide-area purification shockwave, a massive single-target judgment beam...
An overwhelming surge of holy magical energy, like a golden waterfall, poured mercilessly onto the chaotic area where the Ninth Knights were entangled with the orc vanguard!
"You bastard!"
"Ferdinand! What are you doing?!"
The shouts of alarm and fury from the direction of the Ninth Knights and the roars of rage from the orcs rang out almost simultaneously.
Rumble—!
Holy light clashed violently with the raging battle aura and necromantic miasma, creating towering waves of mud and shattered dead trees.
A violent energy shockwave swept in all directions.
This fierce long-range attack was ostensibly aimed at covering the mixed enemy and friendly areas of the combat zone, with the intention of preventing the orcs from breaking through.
But the landing point was extremely clever!
The Ninth Knights were overwhelmed by this wave of friendly fire, their formation completely collapsed, and their pursuit was utterly halted.
Many knights were even thrown off their feet by the mud and shockwaves from the explosion, leaving them disheveled and forced to defend themselves with all their might.
What's even more subtle is that the impact of most of the explosions, along with the mud, wood debris, and chaotic energy turbulence they stirred up, actually formed a huge, murky barrier.
They stood firmly in the way of the Ninth Knights' pursuit of the Gray Falcon Squad!
Meanwhile, the shockwave from the edge of the explosion even blew some orc warriors who were trying to bypass the blast zone back!
The area, plowed by holy light magic, filled with dust and mud, and still smoldering with energy, instantly transformed into an insurmountable line of fire and a natural smoke barrier!
The view ahead suddenly opened up for the Grey Falcon Squad!
Elliott's cold gaze swept over the eleventh Holy Knights' imposing formation without pausing for a moment.
"Go around them! Southwest direction, full speed ahead! Don't get close to their positions! Keep up!"
His flat voice carried an undeniable urgency, and his pace increased rather than decreased as he forcefully changed direction.
They charged headlong into the outer edge of the Holy Light Barrier constructed by the Eleventh Regiment, brushing past the dust and energy turbulence kicked up by the explosion.
Kyle understood instantly.
The 11th Regiment's "assistance" seemed to be a relief, but this area-of-effect attack was too precise, both blocking the enemy and completely obscuring their vision.
In this situation, any friendly position could become a new prison.
He growled, "Execute the order! Now!"
The holy light of judgment flowed across his body, ready to respond to any possible sneak attacks.
Mark nodded silently, and the forbidden holy book in his arms moved without wind, a more condensed invisible domain quietly covering the flank of the team, focusing on the direction of the 11th Regiment's position.
The little twig on its shoulder flickered rapidly with seven-colored light, alertly sensing the energy fluctuations around it.
Although the members of the Grey Falcon Squad were exhausted, their survival instinct and the chill of being betrayed by their own men made them dare not hesitate for a moment.
Ron, Darren, and the others gritted their teeth, dragging their leaden legs, desperately trying to keep up with Elliott's back, stumbling and staggering forward through the mud and the remains of dead trees.
Within the ranks of the Eleventh Knights, some knights seemed to have spotted the disheveled squad fleeing along the edge of their position, and could faintly hear shouts, as if urging them to seek refuge.
But Elliott paid no heed, like a programmed machine, focused only on the one and only path to survival beneath his feet.
Kyle and Mark, however, remained unmoved, their eyes sharp.
Ruby gripped the flail tightly, the flames flickering between the links. She glanced coldly at the flag of the 11th Regiment, her eyes devoid of any trust in her "friendly forces," only filled with deep vigilance.
They had just rushed out of the chaotic, dust-filled area plowed by holy light magic, and hadn't even had a chance to catch their breath—
"Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump—!!!"
The sound of war drums, heavier and more violent than ever before, rolled over like thunder from behind and from the sides, overwhelming everything!
The mud beneath our feet trembled violently, and the murky black water was shaken into splashes of muddy water.
Immediately following was a roar like a landslide or a tsunami:
"For the Horde! Tear them apart!"
"The sacred relic is just ahead! Kill—!"
"Smash those turtle shells of holy light debris!"
The thick, gray-green fog was violently torn apart as if by an invisible giant hand, and countless burly, ferocious green-skinned figures surged out like a raging torrent bursting its banks!
No longer the scouts or vanguard squads of the past, but the true main force of the orcs!
The heavy footsteps trampled the mud, producing a dull, thunderous roar, as if they were about to crush the entire Blackwater Shore.
Rough leather armor, heavy weapons gleaming with a cold light, and bloodthirsty, scarlet eyes... all combine to form a suffocating, raging green tide.
This raging green tide is no bluff.
Upon its appearance, the sheer size of the creature caused both Grand Master Harrington of the Ninth Knights and Earl Ferdinand of the Eleventh Knights to simultaneously shrink their pupils.
As far as the eye could see, the number of orc warriors was overwhelming, a dark mass, roughly estimated to be nearly twice the total number of troops deployed here by the Ninth and Eleventh Holy Knight Orders!
What's even more disheartening is that these orc warriors are not a rabble.
Their formation was imposing and disciplined, though seemingly rough. At the front were heavily armored warriors holding massive totem shields, and between them peeked out poisoned spears that gleamed with an eerie light.
The middle row consists of berserkers wielding heavy battle axes and giant hammers, their ferocious fighting spirit almost tangible.
In the back row, one can vaguely see shamans draped in feathers and wielding bone staffs, as well as orc hunters with longbows drawn and sharp eyes.
The ferocious aura emanating from each orc soldier was in no way inferior to that of a formal member of the Holy Knights Order, carefully trained by the Church of Holy Light!
This was no ordinary mob of scattered soldiers; it was the true war machine of the orc kingdom, an elite force capable of crushing small human nations!
Before this suffocating military force, three figures stood like three insurmountable mountains, radiating a terrifying pressure that sent shivers down one's spine.
The one in the center is the largest, wearing heavy armor inlaid with ferocious fangs, and wielding a double-edged battle axe the size of a door panel. The dark red blood grooves on the axe blade seem to breathe, and each heartbeat causes the surrounding space to distort slightly.
This is an orc warlord who stepped into the realm of legend with pure power.
On the left is a shaman priest with a hunched back and eyes as cold as a venomous snake, his withered fingers twisting a necklace made of unknown skulls.
He was surrounded by a visible, corrosive stream of green magic.
On the right was a relatively slender orc hunter carrying a huge bone bow. He stood silently, his eyes sharp as an eagle's, fixed on the two human leaders.
The invisible energy seemed capable of piercing through any defense.
The orc general in the center slammed his battle axe into the ground with a loud bang, sending mud flying everywhere.
He took a deep breath, his chest bulging, and then a sound was amplified several times by magic.
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