Influenced by the enemy's momentum, the Alliance Central Army's morale visibly wavered. The second-line troops held their ground fairly well, but the prisoner units had already begun looking around, preparing to flee.
They were all Sika people and had never wanted to fight their own countrymen. Besides, they knew how powerful the five incoming thousand-man regiments were and did not believe they could stand against them. Perhaps the entire central army could withstand this attack, but positioned at the very front of the central army, they would most likely become sacrifices and be killed.
They absolutely did not want such an ending. They had surrendered because they did not want to die; they had not wanted to die before, and they still did not want to die now.
As the five thousand-man regiments drew closer, the Alliance Central Army grew increasingly chaotic, and the strength of its ranged counterattacks plummeted. The prisoner units' retreating mentality began to infect the second-line troops with fear, forming a sharp contrast with the frontline troops on both flanks, who had charged forward and fought desperately.
Seeing this, the Supervisory Team acted decisively.
Splat!
A head was severed.
Splat!
Another head was severed.
Splat!
Then a third.
In the blink of an eye, more than a dozen heads hit the ground. Those showing the clearest signs of fleeing had all been separated from their bodies. The bloody sight silenced the central army. Those still preparing to run had no choice but to stop and seriously consider which side lay closer to death and which side farther from it—should they fight or flee?
As for getting fired up, grabbing their weapons, rebelling on the spot, and fighting the Alliance Supervisory Team, that was not even a consideration. The reason was simple: the Sika Kingdom had never