A terror beast with a wingspan of ten meters swept across the gloomy sky, casting a shadow over Raymond's position. The beast then dove into the human army, effortlessly breaking through their fragile resistance.
Raymond, along with dozens of his comrades, was sent flying by the beast, soaring into the sky. In a mix of fear and shock, he crashed to the ground, feeling as if his internal organs had shifted.
His pike landed not far away, and the young pikeman felt like a rag doll dropped on the ground. Fortunately, the damp grass and muddy ground cushioned his fall significantly; otherwise, Raymond knew he might have died on the spot.
Before he could recover from the dizziness of the fall, something terrifying happened. The beast landed and spotted him. Its bat-like head opened its mouth, drooling profusely.
The foul stench filled Raymond's nostrils. Terrified, he squirmed on the ground, slowly retreating. His legs were weak, and he used his hands to push himself back through the mud and corpses in despair: "No... no, don't come closer, don't come any closer! Ahhhh!!!"
"Roar~" The terror beast crouched on the muddy battlefield, spreading its jaws wide as it moved slowly towards Raymond.
The beast seemed to relish the soldiers' fear, savoring the terror and reverence of mortals. It slowed its attack, enjoying the sight of Raymond squirming in the mud.
What is that bright light?
The terror beast instinctively looked up.
"Soul Flame!" A clear shout pierced through the battlefield.
In Raymond's blue eyes, he saw a scene where a white laser beam pierced through the beast's body from the side. A large chunk of flesh was evaporated by the purifying energy. The beast howled in pain and fell to the side, crushing two pikemen.
"Flame Storm!" The second spell followed, a red storm of flames sweeping across the battlefield, engulfing the area where the undead and human armies clashed, giving the retreating human forces a chance to breathe.
"Hu~ hu~" Raymond panted heavily, his heart pounding frantically. The near-death experience left him dazed.
Suppressing his pain, Raymond struggled to stand. He felt his arm was dislocated, his internal organs ached terribly, and blood seeped from the corners of his mouth. He almost wanted to lie down on the soft, muddy ground and close his eyes to rest.
But he got up. He found his pike and rallied the soldiers to regroup.
On the chaotic battlefield, over a hundred remaining pikemen gathered, all of them injured.
"Advance! For the Lady! For Bretonnia!"
In Raymond's sight, the Bretonnian counterattack began. A steel torrent of knights shattered the undead formation. Duke François of Winford, in his blue and white enchanted armor, led the charge, chanting holy slogans and leading thousands from the flank to engage the undead cavalry head-on.
"For the Lady! For Winford!" The unicorn sword in François's hand emitted a dazzling light. The knights' ornate armor glinted brightly on the battlefield. Within five meters of him, all undead knights were purified and incinerated into ash. The duke's unicorn sword then decapitated two more undead knights, the holy sword burning with platinum flames. "The Lady grants me victory!!!"
Within five meters of him, the undead knights were once again incinerated into ash.
The undead cavalry couldn't withstand François's immense power.
Cheers erupted from the center as the undead cavalry proved no match for the Bretonnian knights. The golden pegasus statue atop François's cross-helm proudly declared his glory. The lance formation he led pierced the undead defenses, and the allied knights from multiple duchies cut deep into the undead army.
The iron hooves of the Old World's mightiest knights charged towards the undead's central forces with unstoppable momentum. The lance formation skewered any undead creature in their path, while any that tried to escape the goddess's judgment were trampled by warhorses.
On the right flank, King Belegar Ironhammer and his dwarven army skillfully repelled the undead's assault. The dwarves, always a resilient race, refused to retreat or surrender. Led by Belegar, they stood like unyielding rocks, blocking the undead knights' offensive.
Two tomb guard regiments deployed on the right were once highly anticipated by Kemmler to break the dwarven lines, as the necromancer believed the dwarves lacked gunpowder weapons.
Crossbow bolts couldn't penetrate the tomb guards' iron armor!
But the dwarves taught the necromancer a lesson through their own means.
As the tomb guards neared the dwarves' solid lines, under the loud command of the Angrund oath keepers, all ironbreaker warriors and dwarf miners retrieved grenades and detonators, igniting the fuses.
"Sizzle~" The sound of igniting fuses echoed almost simultaneously across the dwarven lines.
"That's the brave Grimnir, he slew a dragon alone~!"
"That's the kind Valaya, she alone made a cloak!"
The dwarves sang loudly, then a barrage of grenades and detonators enveloped the tomb guard regiment. Explosions and smoke shattered the undead's right flank, while the iron drake cannons spewed flames, consuming the undead tide.
The bravest was Belegar himself. Standing on a rune stone reclaimed from Karak Eight Peaks, he loudly recited the Angrund clan's past glories. Protected by ancestral spirits, he became a vengeful figure, killing a blood knight with his Angrund hammer.
"Roar!" The griffon's screech echoed across the battlefield. The Lady's champion, Ryan, rode his griffon, fighting the terrorgheists in the sky. The knights seemed to have the upper hand, driving the terrorgheists away. Every loss of a terrorgheist pained the necromancer.
The battle reached a fever pitch. Kemmler and Moussillon watched the battle from a makeshift command post.
Moussillon remained calm, but Kemmler grew increasingly restless.
On the left flank, François's knight army, an iron torrent, crushed the allied undead cavalry. The Duke of Winford was too formidable, his unicorn sword causing immense damage to the undead. Every five seconds, the sword's dazzling light purified nearby undead, followed by the knights' cheers and shouts.
In the center, the undead and serf infantry regiments were locked in a bloody battle. The serf infantry regiments from various duchies showed signs of faltering, but the undead also suffered heavy casualties under artillery fire and the cover of numerous archers, crossbowmen, and dwarf thunderers.
Waywatchers continuously fired arrows, turning them into green meteors that precisely killed commanding tomb guards. Even the tomb guards' sturdy armor couldn't withstand the enchanted arrows, and they fell one after another.
Worse still, the wights, whom Kemmler considered his trump card, couldn't resist the waywatchers' enchanted arrows. The green energy from Athel Loren severely disrupted the undead's stability, causing immense damage.
"Urah~ Urah~" The Ughol horse archers roamed the battlefield, firing arrows while singing praises to their ancestors.
On the right flank, dwarves and undead fought fiercely. The outcome remained uncertain.
"If you have no more trump cards, Kemmler, I suggest we retreat." Moussillon calmly observed the battlefield. "Continuing this fight is pointless. We shouldn't spend too much time before your stronghold."
"What do you mean? Are you planning to flee?!" Kemmler instantly cast a spell, blowing apart dozens of charging knights and sending them flying. The wind of death swept across the land, scattering the souls of hundreds of serf soldiers.
It was useless. In such a massive battle, Kemmler's necromantic magic couldn't sway the outcome. François's knight battalion was steadily advancing towards their command post.
"My scouts tell me that Ryan Leoncoeur's knight army is approaching Mousillon." Moussillon told Kemmler, "I brought every sword from Mousillon to support you in this war, but the situation remains unfavorable. I suggest we abandon Blackstone Outpost and retreat to Mousillon."
"Abandon Blackstone Outpost?" Kemmler widened his eyes and then decisively said, "No, retreating is fine, but we mustn't abandon Blackstone Outpost! I suggest we temporarily retreat and establish a new defense in the Gray Mountains!"
"Why? Blackstone Outpost is just a temporary shelter. Mousillon has centuries of vampire accumulation. That's our true stronghold in this country!" Moussillon couldn't understand Kemmler's decision and pressed him further, "Do you think the mountains are unfavorable for the knights? But their army includes dwarves!"
"So what? Anyway, I won't abandon Blackstone Outpost!" Kemmler stubbornly rejected Moussillon's suggestion. "We can give up Mousillon, but not Blackstone Outpost!"
"Unbelievable!" Moussillon's face turned pale with anger. He shouted in frustration, "What secret do you have, Lord Kemmler? What's hidden in Blackstone Outpost that you don't want anyone to find? Mousillon has walls tens of meters high. Can your Blackstone Outpost withstand this army's assault?"
Ridiculous, how could I let you know I've made a pact with the Chaos Gods? Kemmler insisted, he couldn't retreat to Mousillon. His secret couldn't be exposed.
This was why he urgently returned to defend Blackstone Outpost after learning of Ryan and François's allied attack.
The Lich King Arkhan was the most loyal servant of Nagash, the Lord of Undeath.
François, with his blue and white unicorn banner, advanced closer to the
command post. Kemmler finally made up his mind, signaling Moussillon to step aside and began chanting a spell.
At that moment, the entire battlefield changed.
The storm gathered, the winds of chaos blew across the land, dark clouds covered the sun, and spirits began to wail. Lightning crackled in the clouds.
Ryan, fighting terrorgheists in the sky, suddenly stopped. He sensed the power of chaos.
"How is this possible?" Ryan murmured, then immediately pulled the reins, signaling Impresse to descend.
The Grey Knight Primarch shook his head. The scene before him and the chaotic wind from the Warp provided the answer. Chaos power had appeared in the undead army?!
As many liked to say—this made no sense!
But Ryan quickly shook his head, dismissing the idea of "making sense."
That was chaos! The most unpredictable and unfathomable chaos!
How could you talk about reason with chaos?!
"Hurry! Impresse! Hurry!"
A towering undead champion, nearly three meters tall, clad in cursed crimson Barosh armor and wielding a black jagged axe, led a group of dead chosen warriors into view. The air was thick with the smell of blood and earth. His hollow eyes burned with soul fire as he approached Kemmler. "Master, what are your orders?"
"Destroy them! Destroy it all!"
"As you wish, my master."
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