In the world as we know it, the Great War of the Gods is forever an immortal monument in the tales of bards.
In this epic battle, not only did extraordinary figures like the Mercenary King, the Holy Dragon Knight, the Black-faced Dragon King, the Furious Dwarf King, the Loyal and Brave King, and the Demon Commander emerge in a short period, but more importantly, each of these brilliant stars brought forth a wave of dazzling young talents. Although these young warriors, who grew up during the war, didn't achieve the same earth-shattering feats as the Mercenary King and others, their exceptional performances on various battlefields—marked by their unparalleled bravery, unwavering loyalty, or strategic brilliance—made every moment of that decade of history incredibly exciting.
In his notes, the renowned military historian of later generations, Redino, wrote:
"We always lament that compared to the Great War of the Gods, our era has seen no emergence of military geniuses. Little do we know that perhaps in the War of the Gods, all the military geniuses that could be produced by the divine races have already appeared."
Chapter 2: Heroes of the Wilderness
Before the human mercenaries could even catch a glimpse of their enemies, the wolf soldiers had already lost dozens of comrades in the first volley of arrows.
Horns observed the scene before him and murmured, "They were completely caught off guard."
Having released their first arrows, the prairie elves had shed their fear and anxiety, bending down to draw another arrow from the ground. Within seconds, a second volley rained down upon the werewolves. All the werewolves raised their small shields in a desperate attempt to protect their vital parts. While this might have worked against ordinary archers, against the prairie elves, several more wolf soldiers would not live to see another day, as the sound of bodies hitting the water echoed again.
The wolf soldiers on the small boats had far superior vision compared to the prairie elves. They could clearly see the prairie elves standing on the beach, even discerning their gender. This realization brought a deep-seated fear that swept through the ranks in an instant—under the assault of such masterful archers, the 200-meter stretch of water ahead was more than enough for them to die twice over.
The werewolves descended into chaos, clinging to the boats, small shields covering their heads, praying that the rain of death would not fall upon them.
Suddenly, a mighty roar erupted from the larger ship behind them. All the wolf soldiers heard it, and before the third volley of arrows could fall, they executed the command—together with the helmsman, they all tumbled into the sea, using the small boats as cover, hiding their bodies behind the hull.
Horns immediately informed Amy, Daqingshan, and Chi Aotian of the situation. All four expressed their surprise at the enemy commander's quick and decisive actions—this commander was exceptionally swift, indicating that this battle would not be easily won.
The prairie elves squinted, hoping to spot any exposed body parts behind the small boats, but were disappointed. The werewolves had submerged most of their bodies in the water, with only very small parts hidden behind the boats. A few prairie elves released arrows, but only a few dying howls were heard, as most arrows thudded harmlessly against the wooden boats.
The larger ship quickly hoisted its main sail, increasing its speed. Meanwhile, the remaining soldiers on board raised heavy shields, typically used by heavily armored infantry. It was clear to all that the enemy ship now had two objectives:
Rescue the soldiers who had fallen overboard.Take advantage of the rising tide to beach the ship, paying no heed to potential underwater reefs.
If the enemy reached the beach, the advantages of the waves and archers would be nullified.
The prairie archer Gersu issued another command: "220 meters ahead, scatter shot."
"Good," Amy shouted in praise from behind.
The archers raised their bows at a 60-degree angle towards the sky, loosing arrows that fell in a shower. Each time the arrows descended with the force of inertia, a few unfortunate werewolves were struck, their cries filling the air once more.
The main ship drew ever closer. Above the heavy shields, half-height light shields were raised. The large ship plowed through the surrounding small boats without hesitation, then angled its sails to slow down. Countless ropes were thrown from the rear of the ship, and the sounds of werewolves calling out echoed as they clambered up the ropes, pulling themselves onto the main ship with seawater trailing behind them.
Faced with this dual-layered shield wall, even human heavy crossbowmen could not threaten the soldiers behind it. Gersu looked helplessly at Amy and the others, shaking his head to indicate he had done all he could.
By now, the human soldiers could vaguely see the sails rising on the sea. The enemy ship's main sails were once again positioned at a 20-degree angle to the wind, maximizing wind power, while several side sails were also hoisted. The fierce sea breeze billowed the sails, and the large ship surged forward, raising waves in front of it and trailing two white lines as it sped towards the shore.
Most of the soldiers in the small mercenary group were fishermen from Xilin Island. They knew there were no reefs on this stretch of beach and that, at such high speed, the ships could reach the sand in mere minutes.
Horns suddenly pounded his fist against his forehead, exclaiming, "I forgot to prepare fire arrows."
Amy patted his shoulder and gave orders to the captains: "Prepare the magic swordsmen. Once the enemy lands, attack with lightning magic twice and then retreat behind the great swordsmen. If anyone can use fire magic, target the enemy ships directly. Archers, target soldiers struck by lightning, then retreat behind the great swordsmen. Great swordsmen, fight with me."
As Amy issued commands, all the large ships spread out and charged onto the beach—running aground. Beneath the ships was about a meter of water.
With another roar, the soldiers wielding light shields emerged from behind the heavy shields and leaped into the water, forming a shield wall in front of each ship. The werewolves, still dripping with water, jumped down, raising their small shields high.
At this point, they were only about 70 meters away from the small mercenary group. Not only the forest elves, dwarves, and prairie elves, but even human mercenaries with decent eyesight could see clearly. Besides the werewolves, the first heavily armored soldiers disembarking from the ships were significantly different from any known race.
Compared to the werewolves, these soldiers resembled humans more. They were very tall, standing in over a meter of water, with their upper bodies fully exposed above the surface. The werewolves leaping down behind them only reached their shoulders. As they raised their shields, their muscular arms bulged impressively. Light shields, usually about 1.2 meters long, were commonly made from hard woods like peach, pear, willow, or pine, covered with thick buffalo hide. Each light shield weighed no less than 40 kilograms, but in the hands of these towering warriors, they seemed like children's toys. These warriors held their shields level with their chests, their large eyes under thick eyebrows fixed intently on the shore, ready to lift their shields to protect themselves at any moment. Their heads were unusual too, appearing as if a normal face had been swollen by a stone strike, and their hair also stood up bizarrely like wild grass.
As everyone pondered the race of these soldiers, a few words suddenly floated into Amy's mind: "half-orcs." Half-orcs were one of the main races on that unfamiliar continent, rumored to number over 500,000. Legend has it that half-orcs are the result of male-dominated human refugees who fled to the foreign continent engaging in various intense "friction activities" with local orcs, whether willingly or by force. Most of these offspring were abandoned in the wilderness or subjected to abuse in orc homes. However, the orc bloodline endowed these children with strong vitality from birth, while the human bloodline equipped them with smarter minds than the local races. Consequently, upon reaching adulthood, most chose to leave their original tribes and live independently, gradually forming a new race.
A race formed under such unique circumstances was particularly cohesive. Combining the strengths of both continents, half-orcs possessed greatly enhanced attack power and magical defense capabilities. Unscrupulous merchants had once attempted to abduct a few half-orcs, conducting experiments where a grand mage's spells below level 3 had little effect on them.
What shocked Amy even more than the half-orcs was the emergence of even larger soldiers from the main ship, numbering about 50. Compared to humans, half-orcs were already giants, but these new soldiers stood a head taller than even the half-orcs. Clad in heavy armor, they wielded massive shields made of pure iron, weighing 80 kilograms each. Their pointed heads peered over the tops of the shields, long tusks protruding from their mouths, and their eyes emitted a green glow, resembling shining green lights.
"What race is this?" Amy pondered while consulting with Horns. "It's strange that the enemy prepared such a cumbersome unit. Don't they know there are no cavalry on this small island?" Such a formation, tapering upwards and downwards, was primarily useful for defending against cavalry charges. Horns also wore a puzzled expression. "Indeed, we've only recently stationed here, and no nation on the continent typically stations troops on island territories. Given the enemy's series of impressive actions across two other countries on the continent, they should be well aware of the situation everywhere. If their sole aim were to conquer this small island, they wouldn't send so many soldiers unless..." The group exchanged glances, recognizing the potential danger. Could it be that the enemy already knew they were stationed here? Knowing one's enemy is key to victory. Initially thought to be a trap set for the enemy, it seemed the enemy might truly be prepared.
At this moment, a towering half-orc waved his arm toward the shore and shouted, prompting familiar roars. All the soldiers arranged themselves in combat formation and charged toward the shore. Leading the charge were over 50 soldiers with heavy shields, followed by more than 100 half-orcs with light shields. Behind them was a dense column of at least 500 werewolves.
Amy slowly raised his right hand, signaling the deputy commander of the magic swordsmen unit to prepare.
Closer, closer.
The enemy splashed through the water, advancing with their shields towards the shore. Behind the shields, in addition to the green eyes of the orcish soldiers, the werewolves' red eyes glared through. All the mercenaries watched the scene before them with tense anticipation.
The deputy commander of the small mercenary group's magic swordsmen unit, Ilinda, subconsciously bit her lower lip, her slender sword pointing forward. The blue magical crystal on the hilt sensed its owner's intent, emitting a faint blue glow. "70 meters ahead, quick magic attack, release!"
Simultaneously, over 100 magic swordsmen brandished their swords. Blue, red, black, green, white, and cyan magical crystals burst forth with dazzling light. The magic spirits hidden within the crystals were driven by the sword spirits, erupting from the sword tips.
Although Amy and the others were the main leaders of the small mercenary group, they didn't know what skills the mercenaries had learned from their teachers. This was their first realization that within the small mercenary group's magic swordsmen unit, practitioners of wind, fire, earth, ice, holy, and dark magic were all present. Of course, the most common type was neutral magic.
Over 80 magic swordsmen employed the most basic neutral magic—Lightning Strike. Red lightning struck heavily from the sky. Perhaps due to their psychological fear and anxiety about the unfamiliar soldiers, most of the lightning targeted the enemy soldiers wielding heavy shields at the front. As the lightning fell, green poisonous mist began to form among the enemies. The water spirits of the sea also responded to the calls of the magic swordsmen, laughing as they altered the direction of the tides, constantly battering the enemy soldiers with retreating waves.
For the entire history of warfare, this was the first time magic swordsmen had been used as a cohesive unit. Neither the participating sides nor the attackers knew the island housed such a company of long-range attackers.
For Amy's first war experience, this was his third stroke of luck. If it weren't for Ying's early detection of the enemy, if the prairie elves hadn't slain or wounded over 200 wolf soldiers from a distance, if the magic swordsmen hadn't unexpectedly shattered the enemy's most formidable unit—the heavily armored bear soldiers—with their second attack, the outcome of this battle would still be a topic of debate.
In the overwhelming electric assault, all the soldiers in the front row were paralyzed. The ensuing green poison rendered them unconscious, and their shields, loosened by the tide, fell askew into the water.
As the most outstanding archer captain, Gersu swiftly identified the breach and issued an attack order: "Target: front row soldiers, fire!"
The moon quietly hid behind the clouds, as if unwilling to witness such a bloody massacre. The prairie elves, as if shooting straw figures, shot arrows directly through the throats of the heavily armored bear soldiers. As their arteries ruptured, blood spurted like fountains, instantly dyeing the white arrow feathers red.
Within just 20 seconds of the magic swordsmen's attack, all the souls of the bear soldiers, once deemed the long-standing bastion of offense and defense, departed from the world of the Creator God. Their corpses were swept towards the shore by the tide.
"Ugh—" Several young girls in the magic swordsmen unit retched, vomiting acid as they beheld the corpses washed ashore, their eyes still open in terror.