Another dozen of ammunition-filled wagons drove to the back. Just like last time, the coachmen pulled the rein to slow the magic bulls then hopped on the horse.
The Prime Soldiers detonated the wagon. This time, the wave slowed down even more. The explosion made it seems smaller as it rolled and crashed on the ground.
"More!" Balmar said.
Goras grabbed his arm and stared at him with his shining hazel eyes. Silver, greasy hair danced on his head. "I think that's enough."
"We just started. More!"
The coachmen followed his order and dumped more wagons into the wave. After a few more dozens of wagons exploding near the gigantic wave, they finally neared the hill.
The army became excited. All smiling and eager to reach their destination. The Foulclaws were ripped and destroyed as their enthusiasm grew. Doom Swords pierce through the hearts and jaws of the monsters. Bones cut apart, and blood flowed.
The sound of blaring gunfire rang inside his ear, yet he could hear their agony. Their screech reflected pain they had never felt before. Even so, thousands of monsters still charging towards them.
Dark clouds still towered above their heads, covering the land with gloomy shade. The wind got colder as it brushed his hair.
Goras shivered beside him. But he didn't say about it. The wind was abnormally cold. It pierced through the power suit that even the fangs of the Foulclaws couldn't scratch.
They got closer to the hill. Foulclaws still surrounding them like an endless horde of madness. They pounced the Prime Soldiers one after another, only to get torn apart by their swords.
The BC-79 never stopped firing. Even when the soldiers switched places, it never stopped firing unless they need to reload.
The army got better at what they were doing. The Prime Squire provided their Knights with ammunition and battery. Hearts grew braver. They got close to the Prime Soldiers fighting against the monsters in close range, replacing their battery at a moment's notice.
The Prime Soldiers started the switch again. Their coordination got even better and the Foulclaws couldn't advance the line. Their captains led them to battle, shouting as hard as they could to make sure the command got heard.
Balmar turned his sight to the hill. They almost arrive. Just a little bit. A little bit more and they would climb the hill and held the high ground.
But then suddenly, the giant wave behind them sped up. Like it was being pulled by a thousand magic bulls, it soared high and rushed towards them.
Not again.
He couldn't afford to drop any wagons towards the wave. And the hill was so close. Could they make it before the wave reach them?
He could only hope.
The waves went up and down, crashing onto the Foulclaws and turning them into water. The army noticed the violent wave and it pressured them to hurry.
The steep hill was ahead of them. They just have to bull through the Foulclaws and they would arrive.
Balmar gritted his teeth and clenched his fist. He was on the edge of his seat. His feet were eager to jump.
The wave approached. The Foulclaws fought relentlessly.
"That's it. Tell the others to move forward. Ignore the wings and rear. Pierced the front line!"
"Yes, sir!"
Balmar jumped forward. The power suit gave his feet the power to soar in the air for a moment. He then sprinted ahead, passing many carriages, wagons, and magic bulls. The coachmen were surprised.
Goras followed him. His feet thumped the ground. He should have told him to stay and coordinate the army. But he let it be.
Arriving at the front line, he saw the Prime Soldiers sprint from both flanks and gathered at the center. They raised their Doom Swords high, over their head. Charging forward, they cut any monster to shred.
Balmar roared. He pulled BC-79 from his back and sprayed bullets. Aims were precise. All the bullets blasted heads and hearts.
The gun ran out of ammunition when he arrived. He brandished his sword. The other Prime Soldiers noticed him and gathered around him.
One Foulclaws pounced on him, jaw opening wide revealing a set of sharp teeth and fangs at the ready to stab him.
Balmar stared at the creature as its jaw approached from above. Doom Sword in both hands, he held it tight and drove the weapon through the creature's mouth. Penetrating the back of its head.
Balmar pulled the Doom Sword free. A pair of Foulclaws approached him. The others were busy fighting, so he had to take them on himself.
He charged towards them. The monsters roared, saliva splattering onto his helmet. He didn't care. He rushed forward, blade high. With the speed of lightning, Balmar slashed twice. One for the neck. One for the shoulder.
One of the beasts fell, leaving the other screaming in pain as its shoulder fell to the ground. It had a hard time moving with three legs.
Just as he was about to end its life, Goras shot the creature, exploding its head.
"I could handle that."
"I didn't say anything."
The both of them rushed forward with the other Prime Soldiers. They were dancers in battle. Dodging claws and fangs as they slipped a lethal attack. Another wave of heavy rounds came. It cleansed a large part of the monsters. They exploded. Blood burst into the air.
The rest of the Prime Soldiers had arrived.
With the full power of more than four hundred Prime Soldiers, the army was like a spear piercing through a paper. The gunners sprinted forward, shredding the monsters apart before they took out their swords.
The next moment was a true massacre.
All the Prime Soldiers pulled their gun and fired at the monsters. The Squires provided them with ammunition. They were walking backpacks that followed the soldiers around. Their existence was the reason this move could be done. With them going back and forth to the caravan to bring bullets for the soldiers, the army had finally arrived.