Chapter 357 Rewrite
Marquis Ravel wanted to delay time, and so did the professor. As a result, the enemy troops outside Crescent Castle temporarily retreated, and everyone waited quietly, thus falling into a strange state of balance.
But three days passed quickly. Basso hadn't defeated the enemy within three days, and the Wallbreaker heavy artillery that Marquis Ravel had hoped for didn't break the deadlock as he had hoped. Instead, the situation took a sharp turn for the worse, and everything fell into complete chaos.
If the target scatters at the first sign of sight, what good is a heavy artillery? Osiris City felt like an isolated island surrounded by layers of ghostly figures. Those figures seemed omnipresent, driven away and torn apart one moment, only to reappear from unexpected sources the next. Like an invisible spiderweb, the encirclement followed some unfathomable pattern, steadily tightening. While the slaves' strength on paper was clearly no match for the Imperial Legion, Osiris City was steadily reduced to a desperately struggling insect trapped in a spider's web.
The news of the ghost appearing on White Moss Slope seemed both true and false, but Osiris City had to believe it. Even though the Empire slandered the revolutionary leader, everyone knew in their hearts that the astonishing wisdom displayed by this young leader was almost the highest incarnation of human beings - and this made them fearful, fear that would kill reason.
Edward Ravel became increasingly neurotic, often losing his temper without warning, and even publicly shot an adjutant because the adjutant's casual conversation with a word similar to "tell the ghost" made him suspect he was an undercover agent sent by the ghost.
A hysterical supreme commander was enough to plunge the entire command system into a quagmire of mutual suspicion and even paralysis, especially when the news of the complete defeat at the Blood River Ferry came. Under the extreme fear of being cut by a blunt knife, Marquis Ravel finally could not sit still.
While giving up his reputation and career to ask for help from the empire, he ordered the garrison stationed in the Frost Valley Corridor to return to the city immediately. However, the elite troops stationed in Osiris City rushed out in full force - but their target was not the Blood River Ferry. Instead, they turned around and rushed towards Crescent Castle, trying to recapture the granary before the army arrived, and then immediately retreated to Osiris City, ready to wait for rescue.
After all, no matter how strong a fortress is, how can it withstand the impact from a large number of sorcerers and artillery?
Beneath Crescent Castle, towering heavy cavalry, clad in armor imbued with magical circles, stood ready for battle. The heavy decks shone a cold iron-gray in the sunlight. Even the horses were draped in full armor, revealing only their nostrils, emitting blazing white steam, and their anxious, reddened eyes. Warlocks and artillerymen were carefully guarded in the center, their ladders ready for hand-to-hand sieges. Everyone believed this battle would be won without a ripple; after all, the garrison was merely a remnant of the People's Army, a group that had fled after a failed attack on Osiris City.
But this time, they miscalculated again.
For the surviving soldiers who had served in the city of Osiris, the autumn of 1851 represented war, the ruins spread like a sea of fire, the bright sun that enveloped everything, the gray figure standing on the city wall, and the several huge shadows flying across the sky behind the gray figure.
Dragon group.
A group of dragons, like a miracle, appeared in the sky above the battlefield for the first time. The riders on the dragons' backs skillfully controlled the direction and circled silently above the heads of the stunned imperial soldiers.
It's not that no one had tried to tame dragons before. Giant dragons were out of the question, but some docile small and medium-sized dragons might offer some hope. However, those with such fantasies soon discovered that small and medium-sized dragons were often no match for a high-level warlock on the battlefield. All they could do was fall to the ground and bite with their claws, or carry their riders to avoid attacks.
In addition, the dragon's carrying capacity is limited. If you want to throw stones from the sky or perform long-range attacks, the power is either insufficient or you will be forced to be within the attack range of the enemy warlock. In addition, the cost of taming a dragon is extremely high, and you have to consider the dragon's estrus period, the dragon's habits and territorial awareness, the running-in between the rider and the dragon, and other issues. Therefore, taming a group of dragons has become one of the most ridiculous bad ideas in history. Everyone thinks that the group of dragons far away in Morrisburg is just another short-sighted and ridiculous attempt by the slaves.
But now, these dragons were flying very high, and the sorcerers and artillery shells on the ground could not reach them at all. As the imperial soldiers looked at each other and waited for orders from their superiors, the commander in charge of the team suddenly narrowed his eyes - he saw something through the telescope, some cylinders with a cold metallic light tied to the abdomen of the giant beasts.
The commander's life-and-death instinct, honed on the battlefield, suddenly erupted in a shrill roar: "Scatter! Everyone, scatter! Find cover!"
The officers around him had not yet reacted, and some veterans instinctively followed their superiors' orders and began to bend down.
But it was too late.
Accompanied by a loud and long dragon roar, the dragons suddenly changed their circling posture. Several of them folded their huge membranous wings and began to dive down at an astonishing speed. The edges of their wings cut through the air, making a creepy shrieking sound.
Their aim was very precise, targeting the warlocks on the ground, the artillery phalanx, and the neatly arranged heavy cavalry - when they reached a critical point, the rider on the dragon's back suddenly pulled something.
The shadow of death descended from the sky.
The neatly arranged metal cylinders broke free from their restraints and, under the influence of gravity, whistled and smashed into the ground. They were not traditional solid iron lumps, and the flames erupting from their tails could be clearly seen, providing the final precise boost.
The first wave of "meteors" landed in the center of the team, where the warlock and artillery camps were heavily protected.
“—BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!”
Accompanied by continuous and deafening explosions, fierce flames that seemed to be able to devour everything shot up into the sky, and the shock wave spread visibly, blowing away and tearing the nearby soldiers and heavy gun mounts like straw.
The warlock's chanting was forced to stop. In the face of absolute physical violence, the power of human flesh and magic quickly turned into shrill howls in the raging sea of fire, and was quickly drowned out by the continuous explosions. The air was suddenly filled with the stench of burnt flesh.
The second wave of attacks swept through the heavy cavalry phalanx.
The heavy cavalry, like a rolling iron fortress, encountered a devastating blow from an unprecedented overhead force. The thick armor that had once made them invincible became an iron coffin from which they could not escape. The devastating explosion tore through the densely packed formation, sending men and horses flying. If it weren't for the protective effect of the magic circle, the internal organs of both men and horses would have been shattered in an instant—even so, many men were lying on the ground, unable to move.
But a horrific fate did not spare them. The scorching flames licked through the sealed armor, enough to roast the knights and horses within alive. The surviving warhorses were frightened, neighing and stampeding like crazy, twisting the once tightly-knit phalanx into pieces. The iron-gray moving wall crumbled in an instant, leaving only reddened metal, broken flags, burning wreckage, and a few remaining soldiers lying on the ground, groaning and wailing, trying to crawl away from the battlefield.
The two waves of dragons that completed the bombing mission have rejoined the sky, hovering over the heads of the imperial soldiers like the god of death. The third wave of attack has not arrived.
The commander collapsed, his face pale, his lips trembling, yet he uttered no sound. The elite army of Osiris City, so proud of itself, hadn't even touched the enemy's clothing before it was crushed by the sheer force of the sky, right at the gates of its own granary, as laughably fragile as an antique toy.
He should have stood up and ordered the remaining warlocks and artillerymen to fire back at the dragons. But the ground was dead silent, and the survivors' eyes were filled with deep fear, their hands shaking so much that they couldn't even hold their weapons.
——The rules of the battlefield were rewritten at this moment, and the Air Force officially joined the war stage.
Should they fight to the bitter end and be completely crushed by the third wave of airstrikes? Or should they surrender on the spot and gamble that these slaves will show them mercy?
This doesn't seem to be a difficult choice to make.
After seeing the flag of surrender rising above the battlefield, the professor who had been supervising the battle on the city wall breathed a sigh of relief without showing any emotion.
He did not open the city gates to accept prisoners, nor did he order the dragons to kill all the remaining imperial soldiers. He just calmly watched the few remaining soldiers stumble and support each other to stand up, and gradually disappear in the smoke of gunpowder in the fear and despair that death could come at any time.
Crescent Castle was practically deserted at this moment. Greven and his men had already left with sufficient rations and supplies, heading for Osiris City to prepare for the final battle, leaving only a small amount behind to maintain order.
This was undoubtedly a risky move. If the timing hadn't been calculated correctly, Crescent Castle would undoubtedly have fallen into enemy hands once again. Fortunately, the long-awaited dragons finally arrived on time. With the civilian army setting fires everywhere, Osiris City had no time to focus on the sky, making the Dragon Tamer Legion's debut a complete success.
Azuka, standing beside him, blew a whistle, and a flock of dragons roared past their heads, heading towards the city of Osiris. One of the dragons descended onto the city wall, its claws digging deep into the masonry. The rider above it fell down. It was a Natalin, bowing in salute toward the two of them.
Azuka nodded slightly and responded to the tribesmen: "How is the situation?"
"No big deal," the other party replied quickly, his face showing a hint of nervousness and great excitement. "It's just that these dragons were on the battlefield for the first time, and some of them were out of control. A few of the little dragons didn't grasp the timing well and got their claws and bellies burned. They should be able to fly back without any problems. But at least we threw everything accurately."
He caressed his companion's dragon head lovingly and smiled at the professor, "We've used about 70% of the ammunition you provided. The rest is enough to entertain those gentlemen in Osiris City!"
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