A Local Counterattack

The alliance had made a serious mistake: judging Centaurs by human standards!

Lacking military training did not mean they could not fight collectively, and lacking carefully arranged tactics did not affect the strength of individual combatants.

Centaurs were natural-born warriors. Their combat instincts and warlike nature had been passed down through their genes generation after generation. Their circumstances were simply beyond the imagination of a race like humanity, whose minds had grown ever more developed while their physical capabilities had begun to decline.

A rabble of tens of thousands of humans would suffer from crowding, disconnection, infighting, and routs. Centaurs would not. They needed no training to become qualified warriors!

Because humanity had underestimated the Centaurs' combat strength, large sections of the defensive line collapsed. The nobles no longer dared conserve their strength, activating their bloodlines and leading the Knights in a desperate struggle against the Centaurs' assault.

Unfortunately, a little over twenty humans and more than two hundred Knights were far from enough on a battlefield of tens of thousands. Even though they fought with everything they had and killed Centaurs, they still could not reverse the disadvantage.

Harrot had also fallen into a bitter battle. Although the elite infantry regiment he led had barely avoided collapsing under the Centaurs' attack, its casualties were severe. Of the two hundred men, only a little over one hundred remained.

Three of his ten Knight Squires had also died. More importantly, he had failed to hold the line and stop the Centaurs attacking from the front, allowing them to break through behind the defenses.

"Everyone, stay close behind me! I'll lead the charge. Do not scatter!" Harrot had to stabilize his troops' morale at a time like this and lead them against the Centaurs.

The other Knights had also failed to hold back the Centaurs. From several directions, hundreds of Centaurs charged directly toward the heavy crossbowmen and elven archers, the main source of firepower.

Marcus had long intended to develop new territory. Back in the Northern Province, he had found a way to acquire several hundred heavy crossbows. Their range was short, but they were far more lethal than bows. Even Centaurs found it difficult to continue fighting after taking one or two bolts.

After clearing out the small group of Centaurs still entangling his troops, Harrot looked back and discovered that Marcus's forces had already been pierced through by the Centaurs and suffered heavy losses. Even the elves were fighting the Centaurs in close combat.

Other than his ranged troops, Marcus only had some ordinary infantry at his side. Before the savage Centaurs, they were as helpless as children. Only the fewer than one hundred elves holding the line for them had kept them from collapsing.

Marcus himself was already fighting at full force. Wielding a Flame Spear over three meters long, he steadily harvested Centaur lives with every sweep and thrust. These ordinary Centaurs could not withstand even a single exchange with him.

But Marcus was not a Legendary Expert, after all. After swinging the enormous spear for so long, he was already panting and exhausted, with nearly half his Bloodline Power depleted. Yet he had only killed a little over twenty Centaurs.

Meanwhile, more than half his troops had already been slaughtered by the Centaurs! If they had not been surrounded on all sides, they would have thrown down their weapons and fled long ago.

Faced with such a crisis, Harrot no longer dared save his attribute points and skill points. He added the skill point he had gained upon reaching Lv. 10 to Power Strike, then invested all the attribute points from levels 8, 9, and 10 into agility.

His strength attribute had reached 31. Since Power Strike increased strength by a percentage, further improving it had yielded excellent results. But there was no longer much point in adding attribute points to strength.

After acquiring the passive skill Great Strength, his agility had been reduced by 10%, leaving him with only 13 points of agility. It severely restricted his ability to perform at full strength, so he had to compensate by adding points to it.

Harrot now had 31 strength and 16 agility. His attributes completely surpassed those of ordinary Centaurs, and he also possessed Lv. 8 Power Strike!

Harrot hurriedly led the elite infantry to support Marcus. Activating Muscle Burst, he charged at the very front of the formation and poured all his flame energy into enchanting his weapon.

"Charge with me! Let these Centaurs witness the strength of humanity!"

Harrot roared as he led the charge. The flaming greatsword in his hand swung left, then right, in a steady rhythm, like a meat grinder tearing apart every enemy blocking his path.

Harrot's entire body was covered in Centaur blood, and chunks of Centaur organs and flesh clung to his armor. Driven mad by slaughter, he had no time to wipe them away and simply kept advancing.

After activating Muscle Burst, his strength had reached a full 46 points. With the bonuses from his various skill proficiencies, it approached 90 points! Fifteen times that of an ordinary person!

At this moment, even when facing a Centaur force weighing half a ton, he could easily carve out a path through it.

The elite infantry followed behind him, their morale stirred by his ferocious display. One after another, they excitedly raised their weapons and attacked the Centaurs.

Elite soldiers could still barely fight Centaurs. Gathering together, they gained the advantage against the scattered and chaotic Centaurs fighting individually. They successfully drove back the Centaurs and saved Marcus's ranged troops.

"That was just in time, Harrot!" Marcus let out a breath of relief. Had he arrived any later, the entire unit would have been wiped out.

"Quickly organize the shooters and fire! I'll lead the troops back into combat!" Harrot had no time to say more. The Centaurs had already regrouped and charged again.

Harrot and the elite infantry had first endured the charge of the main Centaur force, then fought fiercely to punch through the Centaurs' formation. They were now exhausted, their combat strength greatly diminished, and it was difficult for them to confront a clustered Centaur force head-on.

But they were not the stars of this battle now. They only needed to provide support.

No longer needing to cover and rescue the humans, the elves unleashed the combat strength worthy of the continent's strongest race. Some began casting magic, while others grabbed blades and fought at close range, easily harvesting Centaur lives.

Especially Tiona. As a half-elf, half-orc, she possessed little talent for magic, but her martial prowess was exceptional. She had both an elf's nimble reactions and an orc's savage strength.

Tiona also wielded a two-handed greatsword. She swung it as she moved and spun, turning faster and faster until she became a spinning top, leaving flying flesh and blood in her wake.

Harrot's physique and strength also allowed him to use this move, but he lacked the agility to maintain his balance. He could barely manage spinning in place; doing so while moving was unrealistic, let alone controlling his direction.

The exceptionally powerful elves successfully held back the Centaurs, while Marcus's crossbowmen also began to show their strength.

A volley of more than a hundred heavy crossbows took dozens of Centaur lives in an instant. The Centaurs finally began to flee, but Marcus and the others did not pursue.

They had won the battle on their small section of the battlefield, but that was only because fewer than a thousand Centaurs had attacked them and they had received the support of nearly a hundred elves. It absolutely did not mean the rest of the allied army could also drive back the Centaurs.

Looking out from high ground, they could see that the allied army was at an overwhelming disadvantage on the main battlefield. The left flank in particular had completely fallen. Humans and Centaurs were locked in chaotic melee, and in such disorderly fighting, the difference between the races meant the humans were being slaughtered almost one-sidedly.

The center under Marquis Prague's command had withstood the assault of nearly ten thousand Centaurs, yet it still maintained its formation. One reason was that two Legendary Experts, Marquis Prague and Grand Duke Lance, were holding the line, keeping everyone's morale firm.

Another reason was the dwarven legion's exceptional combat strength. The defensive formation formed by one thousand heavily armored dwarf warriors was like an impregnable wall of bronze and iron. The disorganized Centaur troops, lacking unified command, simply could not break through it.

Standing on the high ground and observing the battlefield, Marcus thought for a few seconds before saying with a grim expression, "This is bad. The left battlefield has completely fallen, and the right side does not look promising either! And even if we withstand this wave, it will be meaningless!"

"The Centaurs' main force hasn't even moved yet. These rabble nearly crushed us already. Once the Thunder Tribe's main force arrives..."

Harrot also frowned, his face pale as he looked at the ten thousand Thunder Tribe Centaurs waiting in the distance. The side effects of Muscle Burst were beginning to show. He could not exert much strength for the time being, and his combat power had dropped severely.

He would find it difficult to serve as the main breakthrough force in the coming battle. Yet the enemy's most elite troops had not even entered the field. Forget the main battlefield—even their small section might not be able to hold.