Breaking the Formation (2)

On the command platform, the old orc general watched his reserve force get shattered by a single blow, almost completely unable to fight back.

Less than forty percent of the defensive soldiers remained on the defensive positions. All the others had already fallen in battle.

And even those remaining soldiers could not survive. More Skeleton Cavalry followed behind the Dread Knights.

Like scythes, these Skeleton Cavalry swept through the surviving orc infantry as though cutting grass.

Without pausing in the slightest, they continued charging toward the rear ranged positions.

"Pfft..."

Watching this scene, the old orc general felt a wrenching pain in his heart and spat out a mouthful of old blood.

This orc reserve legion was no cannon fodder. It was an elite force of the Shortblade Clan, one of their core troops.

This force had once won glorious merits on other battlefields, yet after being brought here, it had barely served any purpose before nearly all of it was wiped out.

And this was only the beginning. Worse things still lay ahead for the old general.

Before the cavalry stood the almost undefended orc ranged troops.

These lightly clothed and armored ranged troops, lacking any equipment to defend against cavalry, were like a tender, succulent piece of fresh meat laid before a pack of riders.

One ranged position after another was effortlessly crushed beneath the cavalry. The knights did not even need to attack; they merely lowered their lances and charged through, leaving layer upon layer of corpses behind.

One cavalry unit lost its charging momentum and was blocked by the orcs ahead. Having no intention of becoming entangled with them, they immediately pulled away to the side.

Not far behind them, an entire unit of heavily armored cavalry came charging in again, their soul flames blazing explosively