Now, these Tyranids units, disguised as mythical creatures, have begun a highly efficient massacre.
They don't breathe fire or breathe air; they simply charge and ram into each other in the most direct and violent way.
A dragon swept past the cavalry ranks, its membranous wings slicing like giant scythes, and the cavalrymen on both sides fell like wheat.
The cavalrymen who were struck by the body were turned into minced meat.
They were completely powerless against these monsters; the gales they generated as they flew by could overturn them.
The cavalry army was like a blank canvas, and the Tyranids Wyverns were the paintbrushes.
Red lines kept appearing on the canvas; they were the blood-red paths left after the dragon's collision.
"Retreat! Retreat!!!"
After Larry died, his second-in-command, a highly respected wildling, roared.
But the orders could no longer be conveyed.
The formation of the million-strong cavalry was completely thrown into chaos. The vanguard wanted to stop, while the rearguard continued to charge forward, and the flanks attempted to turn around.
The entire team collided with each other, jostled, and trampled.
They were completely unaware that the dragons were consciously driving them away.
They flanked from both sides, driving the routed cavalry in one direction.
To the east, there is a naturally formed bowl-shaped valley with only one narrow entrance.
The remaining elite troops, led by their deputy, saw through their intentions.
They wanted to organize a counterattack and regroup.
But a Tyranids Wyverns locked onto them.
It accelerated, its membrane wings completely retracted, and its body resembled a javelin.
These elite warriors raised their power spears, and their Ice Strider charged at full speed, attempting to challenge this mythical creature.
"Ah!!!" They regained their courage by shouting loudly.
But in the face of absolute power, everything they did seemed pale and powerless.
The Tyranid Prime had no idea what these humans were shouting; it simply crashed into them.
The wind howled, spears snapped, and these elite troops vanished into the snowstorm.
The elite regiment was wiped out, and the last vestiges of order collapsed.
More than 900,000 cavalrymen, driven by the flying dragons, surged into the valley.
Valley entrance.
After the last batch of cavalrymen squeezed in, a massive figure descended from the sky and hovered in the center of the valley.
Rena.
Its six-meter-tall body, under the effect of [ Changeling Armament ], presents a similar cyan-blue hue to the flying dragons.
But she's even more perfect!
The shell's texture mimics dragon scales, the bone blades are shaped like dragon claws, and the membranous wings, when folded up, form a majestic, draped structure behind the shoulders.
The wind and snow swirled around her, like a divine protection.
She looked into the valley.
The densely packed cavalrymen also looked at her.
Fear spread in the silence. Some people saw Rena's appearance and thought of the myth passed down through generations of the tribe.
The ancient ruler of the ice plains, the Dragon of Frost.
Rena's head opened, and her brain began to pound violently.
But hidden by the wind and snow, no one could see this blasphemous organ.
Then, a purple Psychic Power blizzard swept through the valley.
Purple snow quickly filled the valley, and everything it touched began to freeze eternally.
The cavalrymen didn't even have time to scream.
Purple frost formed on their skin and then spread inwards.
Flesh and bones froze under the corrosive influence of Psychic Power, completely losing their vitality.
More than 900,000 people died within ten seconds.
Only countless statues covered in purple frost remain in the valley, preserving the poses they took in their final moments.
Their expressions were incredibly lifelike, etched with despair and fear.
Rena took one last look at her masterpiece; soon, a large swarm of Ripper would come to reclaim them.
Then she turned around, flapped her wings, and soared into the sky.
The battlefield of the canyon.
The second wave of cavalry charges had been going on for twenty minutes.
PDF's defenses shrank to a core circle less than 300 meters in diameter, leaving fewer than 8,000 soldiers still capable of fighting.
The ammunition was buried in the transport vehicle under the snow, and the reserves were running low.
The remaining soldiers could only engage the cavalry in hand-to-hand combat using bayonets and entrenching tools.
Lynn stood at the forefront of the defensive line, and the disintegration field of his Power Sword dimmed slightly.
He was surrounded by a mountain of corpses made up of cavalrymen, their bodies covered in blood.
Gus's voice came through the earpiece, filled with despair:
"My lord, the third wave of cavalry has begun their charge, at least two hundred thousand strong. We really..."
His words came to an abrupt end.
Because everyone heard one voice.
Dragon's Roar.
It came from the north, furious and majestic, piercing through the wind and snow, drowning out all the noise of the battlefield.
Both sides in the battle paused simultaneously.
The cavalrymen turned back in alarm, while the PDF soldiers looked up in bewilderment.
Then they saw a giant, azure-blue shadow tear through the clouds and swoop down.
She swept across the battlefield, the hurricane whipped up by her membrane wings making it hard for people to stand.
She hovered in the center of the battlefield for a second.
She looked at Lynn.
Lynn also looked at her.
There were no words or actions, only a glance between them.
But in that one second, Lynn sensed a lot.
Worry and... longing.
He let out a barely perceptible sigh, and longing flickered in his eyes, unseen by anyone.
After a single glance, Lynn raised his Power Sword high.
Rena also summoned a purple blizzard once more.
The Psychic Power storm swept away the third wave of cavalry who had no time to retreat.
The cavalrymen who were directly hit were instantly disintegrated; those at the edges were blown away by the shockwave, their bones and internal organs shattering inside their bodies.
The storm instantly annihilated nearly 180,000 Ice Strider cavalry.
The remaining cavalry collapsed; they turned their beasts around and fled desperately into the depths of the icy plains, abandoning even their weapons.
Rena did not pursue; she hovered in the air, surveying the battlefield.
Every soldier whose eyes were swept by her compound eyes felt a shiver that came from instinct.
That's the natural fear of lower creatures facing apex predators.
But she did not attack the Vanguard.
She glanced at Lynn one last time, then flapped her wings, soared into the sky, and disappeared into the layers of dark clouds.
Silence fell over the battlefield.
A few seconds later, a soldier spoke in a trembling voice, "That, that's Dragon of Frost? From mythology..."
"Shut up," an officer hissed, but his own hand trembled.
Everyone looked at Lynn.
The governor remained standing, his Power Sword planted on the ground, gazing in the direction where Rena had disappeared.
Snowflakes landed on his shoulder armor, quickly accumulating into a thin layer.
"Take stock of the casualties," he finally spoke, his voice a little hoarse.
He thought for a moment and added:
"Today's events are classified as top secret."
No one may discuss or distribute this without permission.
The soldiers saluted and began to carry out the orders.
Lynn turned and walked toward a half-wrecked Chimera.
He opened the car door, Doudou, already awake, was lying inside, staring at him expectantly.
"Boss..." Ogryn grinned sheepishly, his face pale, "We won?"
"We won." Lynn nodded. "You did a great job."
He closed the car door, leaned back against the car, and let out a long breath.
Through the earpiece, Gus cautiously asked, "Your Excellency, was that her just now?"
Lynn looked at the northern sky, where the dark clouds had already gathered again.
"Mmm," he responded softly.
He turned off the communication and took the mini Ripper out of the tool bag at his waist.
The little creature curled up in his palm, its compound eyes shining faintly.
"Thank you," he said in a voice only he could hear.
The Ripper rubbed against his fingers.
In the distance, soldiers were carrying away the bodies of their comrades and salvaging usable weapons.
The snow has started falling again and will soon bury the bloodstains and remains.
But some things cannot be buried.
For example, the nascent fervor and faith in the eyes of the soldiers.