War (10)

Unlike the players who wandered aimlessly and without any tactics, the soldiers were chasing the allied forces from the perimeter.

The Tiefling army had already formed a tight attack formation, and taking advantage of the gap created by the players' charge, they plunged straight into the three thousand-strong allied army like an extremely sharp blade.

Mezhuolash charged at the very front of the group, his armor stained with blood, and almost no one dared to approach him.

He raised his Bloodstained Greatsword high.

[Channel Divinity: Dreadful Aspect]

A dark, eerie light suddenly enveloped the surroundings.

Mezhuolash draws upon her darkest emotions and unleashes them as a magical, coercive breath—a power unique to Oathbreaker.

The Allied soldiers were shrouded in darkness; they abandoned their armor and weapons, gripped by instinctive panic.

"No, don't come any closer!"

"Ah--"

"Run!"

"The devil! He is the embodiment of the devil!"

Blood splattered on his face, and Mezhuolash's lips curled into a slight smile, "The incarnation of the devil?"

This seemed to evoke some memories for him.

He remained silent for a moment before calmly saying, "Since you all want me to be, then I shall be."

Mezhuolash strode forward, wielding his Bloodstained Greatsword, unleashing streaks of crimson light—the Blood Most Holy Slash, unique to the Oathbreaker.

With each piercing scream, the lives of the Allied soldiers were mercilessly reaped by death.

The soldiers scattered and fled as if they were fleeing from a demon. Even his Tiefling men felt somewhat unfamiliar with their terrifying leader and could only follow closely behind, firing a few arrows.

Damakos quickly stepped forward, looking worried, and asked, "Captain, are you alright?"

"Fine."

"I couldn't be better."

As he spoke, Mezhuolash raised his greatsword high once more.

[Channel Divinity: Control Undead]

One by one, the corpses slowly rose to their feet, picking up their severed limbs and slamming them against their bodies. Their empty eye sockets flickered with a swaying eerie light as they roared softly and lunged at their former comrades.

"No--"

"O gods!"

"He really is a devil!"

"This demon resurrected them! He can control the dead!"

Seeing their former comrades turn into ghosts and rush towards them, their familiar faces filled with a thirst for flesh and blood, the Allied soldiers' psychological defenses were completely shattered. They fled desperately, after all, no one wanted to become like that.

Mezhuolash slowly lowered his Bloodstained Greatsword.

"The effect is pretty good."

A sinister light flickered in his pure black eyes, where the irises were invisible, and his ram-like, curved horns were covered in blood. At this moment, he resembled a true demon from Hell.

Control Undead is an ability he has never used before, but the current Mezhuolash has long since overcome his psychological burden.

Since they are the Evil Dragon Kin, it doesn't really matter.

Mezhuolash looked around and was shocked to find that even his companions had a hint of fear in the depths of their eyes.

But he pretended not to see it and calmly ordered, "Continue the advance."

With the undead leading the charge, the Tiefling quickly caught up with the crying and fleeing Allied soldiers and arrived at the Bosk Family's command post.

Compared to the commander, Andre Bosk. After the war began, he rushed to the front line alone, leaving all the heavy command duties to his noble subordinates.

The pampered nobles, watching the approaching ghosts, were filled with terror; one even fainted on the spot.

In their eyes, war is often a refined art, rather than a brutal massacre.

The orders the nobles received from the Bosk Family were also—no need to fight to the death, just preserve their own strength.

However, the enemy has now marched all the way to their doorstep, and the situation has far exceeded their expectations.

Baron Matthew's voice trembled. "What... what should we do?"

Viscount Luton whispered, "How about we surrender?"

"But I doubt they will abide by the sacred noble covenant."

"These are the retinue of the evil dragon."

The undead roared as they approached, and the Tiefling, armed and ready, stood at attention.

Mezhuolash simply took a few steps forward unhurriedly, pointing his sword at the military tent from a distance:

"Gentlemen, surrender and you will not be killed."

The sound wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear.

There was a moment of silence in the military tent, followed by rustling sounds.

Baron Matthew finally succumbed to the immense pressure, staggered out the back door, and leaped onto his warhorse.

"You damned devils!"

Go to hell!

He spurred his horse and roared as he rode away.

Mezhuolash said nothing more, but coldly stared at the nobleman on horseback, raising his longsword that shimmered with magical light.

[The Crown of Madness]

A twisted, jagged crown appeared on Baron Matthew's head, and his eyes instantly flashed with madness.

He lost control and fell off his horse, flailing his arms and legs on the ground.

Mezhuolash walked up slowly and looked down at him.

"You are really brave."

Baron Matthew rolled on the ground, roaring madly, "One day, I will kill you all!"

"Whoosh—"

With a swift and decisive sword strike, the insane Baron Matthew was pinned to the ground.

The remaining nobles inside the tent watched this bloody scene and couldn't help but gasp in shock.

However, the matter was not over yet.

Mezhuolash pulled out his blood-stained longsword.

The mangled body on the ground slowly began to writhe, then stood up shakily, its empty eye sockets gleaming with an eerie light— Baron Matthew had been transformed into an undead.

The nobles fell silent.

Mezhuolash drove the undead to the front of the tent and calmly repeated, "Gentlemen, surrender and you will not be killed."

He paused for a moment.

"At least—I won't turn you into that kind of thing."

Sweat poured down Viscount Luton's forehead. Finally, unable to withstand the pressure, he collapsed to his knees, tears streaming down his face, and cried out, "I surrender! I surrender! Please don't turn me into a ghost!"

"I surrender too, I only beg you to spare my life!"

"Our Terman Family is willing to pay the ransom!"

"The Fate Family has requested cooperation."

"On behalf of the Chris Family, I pay my respects to the Ember Lord."

With Viscount Luton setting an example, the nobles in the camp knelt down and begged for mercy, their cries of agony echoing throughout the camp.

Mezhuolash nodded slightly.

"Then I'll be rude."

The Tiefling tied up the kneeling nobles.

Damakos stepped forward and cautiously reported, "Captain, no, sir, the allied forces on the right flank have completely collapsed. Those players are chasing down the remnants. Should we cooperate with Lord Lang Pu and launch an attack on the enemy's center from the flank?"

Mezhuolash shook his head. "No, we'll retreat immediately."

Damakos was immediately taken aback. "But sir, we..."

Mezhuolash's pure black eyes held a hint of mockery. "Retreat immediately. We'll treat these nobles to a grand ceremony."

"Yes, sir."

Although Damakos was somewhat puzzled, he obeyed the order and led the terrified nobles back North of the Pass.