The first defeat hadn’t affected the dark races’ firm resolve to attack. Although they had suffered grave losses on the first two lines of defense, they had an overwhelming advantage in numbers. They were able to reorganize swiftly as more dark race warriors were arriving from the rear and squeezing into the forward base.
The dark races didn’t remain idle while they were reorganizing. They assembled a good number of heavy cannons and kept up the bombardment. There was no way Dark Flame would be willing to lose out on the artillery exchange.
The heavy cannons inside Whitetown spat out tongues of flame as they poured shells upon the dark race cannon formation. One after the other, dark race heavy cannons were silenced by the overwhelming firepower. However, the determined dark races would replace the lost weapons with greater speed and fire back at the mercenaries.
The human forces couldn’t compare to the dark race and their slave soldiers in number. Hence, they had to focus on the enemy heavy cannons and could only do limited damage to the assembling soldiers.
Under Pratt’s command, the dark race experts stopped conserving origin power and did their utmost to intercept the incoming cannon-fire. That also reduced the effect of Dark Flame’s heavy cannons.
As the dark race army finished assembling, a mournful bugle spread its distant voice across the battlefield. All the dark race warriors felt their blood boiling.
With the signal to attack given, the dark race warriors jumped out of their base and charged at Whitetown’s defensive line.
The vanguard warriors had just stepped within firing range when they felt their vision light up. They reflexively sealed off their vision, but they soon realized that the light didn’t come from the star shells. Instead, it was a continuous stream of fire that had lit up along the silhouette of the entire city.
In the blink of an eye, the dark race soldiers at the front fell down in droves. It was almost as though they had run into an invisible wall.
However, the soldiers at the back stepped on the corpses of their fallen comrades and kept charging forward. The defensive fire from Whitetown flickered constantly and without pause, sending forth wave upon wave of bullets to reap the lives of the advancing enemy.
The Dark Flame mercenaries fired with despair-inducing density, raising dark race casualties to unbearable levels.
After some rest and reorganization, the tottering second defensive line quickly became a meat grinder.
On the warship, Pratt looked on emotionlessly as droves of dark race soldiers stumbled down. Each of the dark race army’s step forward was paved with countless corpses.
“Sire, should we…” an arachne count asked cautiously.
Pratt said decisively, “That’s all they have left! Issue my order, everyone under the marquis rank shall attack!”
The arachne count was shocked. “Sire, Qianye is in the city!”
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt“So what? Even Medlosi has died for the cause, do you cowards want to hide behind the lines? Go!”
The arachne count bowed. “As you wish, Sire, but those werewolves have been preserving their strength. Why don’t we…”
Pratt pondered for a good while this time. After a while, his eyes were filled with a harsh killing intent. “Order Marquis Redtooth to oversee the frontlines. His position is too far back.”
“What do we do if Sire Redtooth doesn’t listen?”
“Then I will convince him myself.”
The arachne count left with his orders.
After paying the price in heavy casualties, the dark race army managed to charge into Whitetown’s defensive lines twice, but they were pushed back both times. The front line soldiers weren’t entirely made up of madmen who weren’t afraid to die. After the death toll had reached a certain level, even the most berserk werewolf would start to shrink back.
They reorganized outside of firing range, preparing for an attack of greater scale. The third charge had begun, and this time, things were clearly different from before. The large number of dark race experts moved forward amidst the incoming fire and soon brought their units to the defensive line.
Then, they proceeded to destroy the defensive structures one after the other.
Escalating the battle to this degree outside of the city was a clumsy strategy, to say the least, but regardless of the casualties, it remained true that paving the path with lives was the most efficient way to fight.
The Dark Flame mercenaries also fell into confusion, but the veterans in the defensive line knew that retreating meant death. It was better to fight to the last breath and maybe find some hope of survival.
Due to the influx of experts, the dark races took up the absolute advantage in terms of close-quarter combat. As more and more of them charged into the defensive line, Dark Flame’s casualty rate shot up exponentially.
On the wall, Song Zining was gazing down at the fight around the second defensive line. “What an impetuous fellow, sending out your experts so soon? I thought I’d have to wait until you’re at the city walls.”
He produced a silver mask from his robes and fastened it on his face. Then, he reached out to grab the spear his attendant was offering.
Song Zining jumped out with his spear and soon vanished into the air.
On the battlefront, a berserk arachne viscount was swinging his axe in a circle, slashing three mercenaries through the waist. He roared at the sky as the boiling fresh blood splashed onto his body, but his excited laughter came to a sudden stop. That was because a spear made of unknown material had pierced his throat.
Song Zining pulled the weapon back with a shake of his hand and moved away. He took three steps all of a sudden and, wielding his spear like a dragon, took the life of a dark race expert with each movement.
In the dark night, Song Zining’s white robes and long spear were especially eye-catching. He was invincible wherever he went and left no enemy general alive. In the blink of an eye, his silver mask was stained with blood, and his white robes had turned scarlet red.
If the commander was fighting so hard, how could the subordinates not do their best as well? The mercenaries immediately felt their blood boiling as they fought desperately to the last breath. Thus, the tottering defensive line was stabilized once again.
Right after he had flicked a baron into the air, Song Zining’s flickering silhouette suddenly became clear for a moment. He had spent quite a bit of stamina in the constant fighting, so it was only natural that his Three Thousand Flying Leaves Art would become unstable.
It was during this split-second gap that the night sky was stained with a layer of red, and a gigantic fang appeared at Song Zining’s back.
Jolted, Song Zining pulled his spear back and turned around. Without even looking, he knew that he had been locked onto and that there was no way to evade this lethal blow. The only way was to attempt a mutually destructive move and force the enemy to give up.
No one knew what expression Song Zining had beneath the mask. Considering how the enemy was able to grasp such an opening amidst the chaotic battle and launch a sneak attack, it was easy to guess that he was almost as strong as Song Zining himself. How could it be easy to turn the tables on such an opponent, especially since he had gotten the advantage?
A faintly discernible figure, almost impossible to spot against the flaming background of the battlefield, flickered beneath Song Zining’s spear. The shadow arrived swiftly behind and swiped at his back!
Just as the claw was about to touch Song Zining’s white robes, the faint silhouette became highly alert. He had noticed a certain figure appear out of nowhere in the distance—Qianye. Amidst the flickering lights and passing shadows, the werewolf felt as though he could see his own reflection in the enemy’s eyes.
All of a sudden, a chill surged up in his heart because what he had seen was simply too weird. It was almost like an illusion, and he simply didn’t know what he was afraid of. No matter how powerful Qianye was, he was a thousand meters away. What could he even do?
The werewolf’s resolution was firm enough. Even though he was inwardly shaken, the killing move he was performing never slowed down. Those sharp claws kept moving forward, tearing through the white robes, inner armor, and flesh before finally meeting resistance—that was Song Zining’s ribs.
Recoil from the gushing daybreak origin power impacted the werewolf’s claws, which was then suppressed by the well-prepared darkness origin power. The frail human body was at a clear disadvantage in such melee fights. The werewolf was just about to dig out Song Zining’s heart with the next move when he felt another chill behind his back. The cold cut through to his bones with unstoppable momentum!
He turned back rapidly, only to find a silhouette several hundred meters away. That was Qianye, but it was only his afterimage.
Withdrawing the claw he had in Song Zining’s body, the werewolf spun around and swiped behind him. However, his vision was filled with a sword radiance as he turned around. The werewolf’s upper body flew high into the air, and only at this point did Qianye’s silhouette slowly appear.
Qianye glanced upward and said in surprise, “Oh, it’s a marquis?”
“Couldn’t you tell?” Song Zining walked over.
“He’s quite weak.”
“Weak? I almost lost my life there, how is that weak?” Song Zining said angrily.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmQianye smiled indifferently. “There’s no way you’ll die when I’m around. Are you okay?”
“Just a surface injury, nothing serious. He didn’t even injure my bones.”
Only at this point did Redfang’s upper body land with a thud. He was still struggling to stand up, but the cut edges of his flesh had been charred from Qianye’s Venus Dawn origin power. It was easy to see that the marquis wasn’t going to survive.
Qianye glanced at the unresigned werewolf and said in a puzzled tone, “I wasn’t wrong, he looks weak.”
“Why would you feel that he’s weak? His origin power rank is higher than mine, but it is true that the shadow wolves aren’t as strong physically. Wait a minute… turn back to me.”
Qianye looked at Song Zining in confusion. The latter stared into his eyes for a good while before saying, “So that’s how it is. Your eye abilities have improved again.”
“Is that so? I didn’t feel it.”
Song Zining glared at him. “You didn’t feel it? Were you ever able to restrain a marquis before?”
Qianye said after some thought, “No.”
“There you have it. Enough about that, let’s sound the retreat. You and I will bring up the rear.” Song Zining flew carelessly into the air, his spear drawing several trails before he put it away and stood with his hand behind his back.
A row of star-shells shot out from Whitetown as the heavy cannons rumbled to provide cover fire.
The dark race experts could break through the restraints of the flares and heavy cannons, but Qianye and Song Zining were standing side by side at the center of the battlefield.
They were waiting for people to fight them, but who would dare when even Redfang was slaughtered in one blow?
All eyes on the Evernight side fell upon Pratt. Only the arachne vice-duke would have a chance at breaking past the duo.
Pratt remained motionless, much like a sculpture.
Moments later, the star-shells had dissipated, and the heavy cannons had stopped firing. The smoke eventually dispersed to reveal the outline of Whitetown. The second defensive line was already empty—all the mercenaries had retreated into the city, leaving Qianye and Song Zining standing before the gates.
Pratt’s pupils constricted as he stared at Qianye.
As though sensing something, the latter turned his head ever so slightly to meet the gaze from thousands of meters away.
He raised his brows with a cold smile. A sanguineous line rose up into the air, as did his vigor and imposing demeanor. He was waiting for Pratt to meet him in battle.
Pratt looked up at the sky and saw that the full moon was actually a hazy color of blood.