The flames died away, leaving the battlefield a charred, fused hellscape. The air reeked of burning flesh and crackled with smoldering debris.
Lingering flames still licked at dead branches and carapaces. A few insect corpses seemed to squirm, their clawed limbs twitching faintly, as though they might spring up at any moment.
Louis surveyed the scorched earth, his expression unchanged.
"Advance sector by sector and clear out the survivors," he said steadily, a chill in his voice that brooked no argument. "Watch for those playing dead. Use flamethrowers first. Burn them thoroughly."
"Yes, sir!" The knights formed up without a moment's hesitation.
The flamethrowers on their backs hissed out searing jets, their dragonlike tongues of fire seeming to cleanse the land of pestilence.
The surviving elite insect corpses had barely raised their heads before streams of fire pinned them where they stood.
The sounds of burning mingled with roars as the battle line advanced with an efficiency so cold it bordered on merciless.
It was a silent purge.
Lambert rushed over, his face smeared with soot but a faint smile tugging at his lips. "My lord! A few minor injuries, but not a single death!"
For a moment, Eduardo thought he had misheard.
"...Not a single death?"
He snapped his gaze toward the straight-backed figure ahead.
Firelight danced across Louis's pauldrons. His profile was so calm that this might have been nothing more than a drill.
"Good." Louis merely nodded, his quiet voice carrying absolute assurance. "The training paid off."
Eduardo's breath caught.
Images of the rising Brood Hive flashed through his mind: that horrifying heart sac, the writhing hive pillars gnawing through the earth, and an insect tide capable of crushing half an army...
These knights had faced the Brood Hive's core firepower head-on!
By ordinary casualty estimates, launching