The Final Battle Begins

Across the battlefield, battle cries and the clash of metal rang to the heavens.

The once orderly lines on both sides had shattered into chaos. Units darted about like headless flies, fighting here and there with no formation to speak of.

Whether they belonged to the Northern Alliance Army or the regular Duchy Army, entire formations and intact units were struck down and broken apart. Yet their scattered soldiers did not give up. They sought out nearby friendly forces and threw themselves back into the fight.

The battle grew ever more chaotic and brutal!

The generous rewards and the bloodshed before their eyes had driven most soldiers into a frenzy. Only one thought remained: Kill the enemy!

They needed no urging to fight on without regard for their lives.

Ordinary soldiers rarely reached such a state.

They were not elite troops trained to fight to the death. How could they possess such unbreakable resolve?

But the commanders on both sides were battle-hardened veterans who understood their soldiers' minds all too well.

They drove their men into the slaughter without pause.

It did not matter if a defensive line collapsed; they need only organize another countercharge. They could not give the soldiers a moment to catch their breath and think. Blood and death had to fill their minds and keep them in a fever of battle.

That way, both the Duchy Army and the Northern Alliance Army would fight until one side emerged victorious.

Alex's saber flashed, and the Duchy cavalryman charging him lost his head in a spray of blood.

Before Alex could catch his breath, he realized Hawk was gone.

He looked around. Only a handful of his personal guards remained beside him. His other companions and the main force were nowhere in sight!

"Damn it!" Alex muttered.