Norman Fortress suddenly came alive.
Amid the gleaming white snow, twelve triangular alloy chevaux-de-frise thrust up from the ground. Half-foot-long metal spikes densely covered their frames; even a mid-level Magic Beast that charged headlong into these sturdy, heavy obstacles would end up with its head split and blood spilling. A dim halo flickered over every barrier. Clearly, these twelve triangular chevaux-de-frise, stretching for dozens of miles, had all been reinforced with magical runes.
Behind the triangular chevaux-de-frise, amid a series of clacking sounds, one pure-steel infantry spear after another, each several meters long, rose from beneath the snow at a forty-five-degree angle. Several successive layers of infantry spear formations gave off a faint hum beneath the shrieking icy wind. Clearly, these spears had been forged from fine steel and possessed exceptional toughness.
The chevaux-de-frise formations and spear formations had all been painstakingly crafted by alchemists of the Western Continent using ancient magic-guided technology. If the foreign races' siege forces wanted to cross these seemingly simple obstacles, they would have to slow down. And once they lost their charging momentum, the foreign armies would face the merciless bombardment of countless defensive weapons atop the walls.
What was even more unnerving was that the positions of these triangular chevaux-de-frise and spears were not fixed. Driven by magic arrays, these defensive devices moved about along pre-laid tracks, appearing wherever they were needed. Throughout history, foreign siege forces charging at full tilt had suffered terribly at the hands of these seemingly inconspicuous defensive tools.
Twelve tundra mammoths roared loudly, snorting clouds of hot breath as they slowly hauled forward a wooden fortress whose base measured more than three hundred meters in both length and width. A tower over two hundred meters tall stood atop the wooden fortress. Leon stood on the observation platform at