War (3)

The vanguard of the Allied forces advanced to the hills in front of the Trill Valley.

"Damn it, where is the enemy?"

The rider on horseback gazed into the distance, but he couldn't find any trace of the monsters. However, the traps scattered throughout the Trill Valley were already giving him a headache. Various pitfalls, poisoned arrows, lassos, and tripwires, although causing only a few dozen deaths, made the vanguard troops dare to move only slowly.

After all, their primary job was not fighting; before the war, they were just cowardly laborers, or even serfs without personal freedom.

The general of the "Honor Legion" Joseph, and he was only a Baron.

However, he didn't even have his own fiefdom; the so-called "Baron" was more of an honorary title. Joseph was once just the son of a lowly carpenter, but by chance, he was chosen by the Rackman Dynasty to receive the purest Knightly Spirit, eventually achieving a leap in social class and becoming an honorary nobleman and a general in the so-called "Honor Legion."

He was always grateful to the Rackman Dynasty and often fantasized about dying a heroic death on the battlefield to repay their kindness with the ending befitting a knight.

Looking at the timid and hesitant militiamen, Joseph suddenly felt an uncontrollable surge of anger.

These insects are not worthy to be my companions! I am a knight! A nobleman of high rank! With that thought, he spurred his horse to the front of the procession.

"Smack!"

He lashed the soldiers who dared not advance with his whip, tearing their skin and causing them to scream in agony.

Joseph roared, "Forward!"

"No one is allowed to hide in the back!"

"Is the Duke so merciful, providing you lowly creatures with food and even pensions, just so you can waste your time here?"

"If these little traps can stop you, where is your courage? How can you live up to the name of the Honor Legion bestowed upon you by His Excellency the Duke!"

Under Joseph's stern orders, the more than one hundred supervisors also used violence to urge the soldiers forward, finally getting the entire "Honor Legion" moving normally.

Although this army of ten thousand men often suffers from stampedes, at least they are not stopped in their tracks by one or two traps.

Finally, the view opened up before us, revealing a flat and open landscape; we had finally entered the Trill Valley.

"We've finally arrived."

Joseph breathed a sigh of relief.

Traveling through the complex hilly terrain, the various traps he encountered were driving him crazy.

Before the battle even began, over a hundred of the more than ten thousand militiamen had already been killed. The remaining men were also somewhat panicked by the deaths of their soldiers. He killed several deserters in succession to barely maintain the situation.

"These despicable beasts do not deserve to be called the ' Honor Legion '."

"These bastards who have absolutely no sense of noble honor... they should be starved to death!"

Joseph cursed under his breath as he rode on horseback.

"Grown ups..."

The messenger's voice trembled slightly.

"What's up?"

"Is there another deserter ahead, another stampede, or another trap? Don't leave everything to me. I'm here to fight for honor, not to be your babysitter!"

Joseph, unable to contain himself any longer, said impatiently.

No, none of them.

"And what is it then?"

"My lord, please... please come and see for yourself."

The messenger's voice trembled even more violently.

Joseph rode forward to look around, but was immediately dumbfounded and fell silent.

On that flat, open wilderness, there was a mottled torrent of Goblin Kobold.

Their movement even kicked up a cloud of dust.

The torrent stretched as far as the eye could see, surging in from all directions, probably numbering in the tens of thousands. The monsters' eyes gleamed with an eerie light, and they emitted a series of noisy, low roars.

Many of these monsters are covered in sparse scales, and the bloodline bestowed by the Red Dragon fills their veins with a greedy thirst for killing and destruction.

Dozens of Winged Kobold, Erde, were flying erratically in the air.

"This is..."

Joseph's hand holding the reins trembled slightly.

He had fantasized countless times about charging into battle on horseback, bravely killing the enemy, and finally dying from exhaustion, sacrificing his life for his family.

He was always deeply moved by it, and tears would stream down his face. He secretly resolved that if he had the chance in the future, he would bravely sacrifice himself like that.

But he never imagined that the real battlefield would be like this.

If you were to rush into this monstrous torrent, you would be torn to shreds, with no honor or dignity whatsoever.

"No, it shouldn't be like this."

Joseph muttered to himself.

For a moment, he even considered turning his horse around and fleeing back to the camp.

But the monsters had already surrounded them from all sides and made contact with the militiamen at the front.

Joseph snapped out of his daze and fear, and shouted in a trembling voice, "Fight! Fight and kill the enemy!"

In fact, the tactics chosen by Dolo, Lang Pu, and other leaders of the Ember Nest were surprisingly similar to those of Robert of the Allied Forces—both used cannon fodder legions to clear the way, followed by elite troops.

This legion, composed of Kobold and Goblin, consists of over 20,000 monsters who were conscripted from all over Storm Highlands. Only about 30% of them possess some rare Red Dragon blood.

Due to their smaller size, Goblin and Kobold are not as strong as ordinary human farmers, but they are influenced by the aura of the Red Dragon, becoming cruel and warlike, and their enthusiasm for fighting far surpasses that of the "Honor Legion" composed of serfs.

"For the Ember Nest!"

"For the great Red Dragon!"

Amidst the monster legion, waves of furious roars resounded. Meanwhile, on the "Honor Legion's " side, under Joseph's command, the horns of attack were sounded.

And so, the two massive cannon fodder legions became entangled and intertwined, marking the official start of the war.

The monster legion of Kobold and Goblin launched a frenzied attack, charging at the enemy with almost no regard for their own lives, even though their opponents were just some farmers.

Several Kobold surrounded a human, clinging to his crudely made leather armor, smashing stones at his head, and repeatedly stabbing him in the body with rough daggers.

"For the Ember Nest!"

A Dragon Vein Goblin hurled a short spear that pierced the soldier's body. When it was unarmed, it scratched and clawed at the man, eventually even pouncing on him and biting him until his face was covered in blood and he let out painful howls.

The Kobold Erde spewed Fire Bolt from mid-air, setting many soldiers' cotton clothes ablaze and turning them into burning "firemen."

Flames, blood, smoke.

There were no tactics on this battlefield, only the purest and most primitive fighting, and the situation was chaotic.

In just the first few minutes of the engagement, the "Honor Legion" had already lost hundreds of men. People were screaming in panic, wailing and crying. This cannon fodder army was inevitably heading towards defeat.