111. The Bloody Battle

"Use the long-range giant crossbows to take out their commanders. Each unit, concentrate your fire to suppress their advance. Avoid letting their corpses fill the moat at all costs. Fire!"

"Wind! Wind!"

With a thunderous roar, arrows rained down. At close range, the heavy bolts often pierced through several enemies—those with little or no armor—before losing their momentum. In an instant, the area by the defensive moat turned into a river of blood. The Bear Clan warriors remained motionless during this first volley, staring in stunned silence as the dense hail of arrows ruthlessly harvested the lives of the enemy.

"The enemy is in range. Javelineers, throw!" Even as they were still in shock, Mo Fei issued the order at the perfect moment. They were the elite of the Bear Clan, after all; the moment they heard the command, they shook off their stupor. Their javelins flew out like a storm. While manually thrown javelins lacked the horizontal force of the Berserkers' giant crossbows, each one was enough to fell a man. The volley of ten thousand javelins created a zone of death before the moat.

Soon, the pile of corpses accumulating in front of the moat fueled the bloodlust of the Berserkers and the Bear Clan warriors. The Berserkers all entered a state of frenzy simultaneously, firing their giant crossbows even faster. Several hundred crossbow strings snapped under the strain, but there was no need for alarm. In this type of defensive warfare, the logistics system of the Dwarves was unprecedentedly efficient. Behind every Berserker, there were not only stacks of pre-loaded bolt magazines but also numerous spare giant crossbows. If one broke, they tossed it aside and grabbed a new one to continue the battle. The Berserkers never had to worry about running out of ammunition. Behind the Bear Clan, bundles of iron javelins were being brought up. They had never fought with such ease before. The logistics system of the Death Empire once again demonstrated its formidable combat capability. This display shook the elite Bear Clan warriors to their core; when they were eventually rotated back to Demon Island, they would unanimously oppose any future military action against the Death Empire. That bloody battle had given them the most vivid realization of the Death Empire’s potential, and they were convinced that the Bear Clan could never gain any advantage in a war against them.

"Everyone, take a break and recover your strength." Mo Fei stood up and began to chant a magical incantation. The chant lasted for a long, long time—longer than any spell Mo Fei had ever cast before. Finally, Mo Fei raised both hands, and the chanting stopped. Instantly, every warrior on the wooden fortification felt a gentle breeze wash over them, not only erasing their fatigue but also stimulating their spirits with a surge of excitement.

The ten Bear Clan mages had not participated in the first wave of attacks, but they were deeply astonished by this miraculous magic. In their experience, only the legendary Witch God of Death possessed such power, yet even the Witch God was known for destructive force rather than such group-wide buffing magic. They could not help but feel curious about Mo Fei’s abilities.

"The enemy is preparing to attack!" the Elven crossbowman in the watchtower warned. When the main force retreated, Mo Fei had left behind a small team of Elven scouts to monitor enemy movements, and they had taken over look-out duties during the battle.

After the first wave was repelled, the enemy army had pulled back a considerable distance, but now they were surging forward again. The first wave had cost them nearly twenty thousand men without even reaching the moat. This time, however, Mo Fei and his troops noticed that the opponents were using crude shields.

The thousand men in the lead each carried a square wooden shield, though this hampered their speed.

"What are they doing?" A Bear Clan warrior watched as only three thousand men followed the shield-bearers. Once the shield-bearers crossed over the corpses of their fallen comrades, they stopped. Slowly, the soldiers behind them each picked up two bodies and began to move forward.

"Are they collecting the dead?"

"Javelins, aim for the arc, fire! Don't let them get close!" Mo Fei shouted. "They intend to use the bodies to fill the moat. Mages, launch a collective attack as soon as they approach!"

They were getting closer. At that moment, the ten mages behind them began to chant in unison. Mo Fei watched them with anticipation; he could never forget that scene on the walls of the Tianlong Empire.

Finally, as those enemy soldiers attempting to fill the moat reached a distance of just over ten meters, a sea of fireballs descended from the sky. The ten mages held their hands high, raining fireballs down continuously. The shockwaves from the impact sent the enemy soldiers and their shields flying high into the air, only for them to crash heavily to the ground. Those struck directly by the fireballs were obliterated. This magical assault not only opened Mo Fei's eyes but also decimated the four thousand enemy troops attempting to fill the moat.

Watching as barely a handful of the four thousand soldiers returned alive, the commanding general was enraged. He raised his scimitar and led the charge himself. Morale surged as the entire army rushed toward the pier. The cavalry in the front moved fastest, while the infantry behind began to lag.

"Mages, attack the infantry in the rear. Sniping crossbows, target their commander. Everyone else, use dense arrow fire to keep them away from the moat!"

"Fire!"

Suddenly, the air was filled with the sound of crossbow bolts tearing through the sky. The cavalry in the front fell one after another. The Berserkers on the sniping crossbows aimed at the commander, who was sprinting forward with his blade raised. This time, the Berserkers used lightning bolts—a type of mass-attack magical ammunition improved by Mo Fei. Even if the bolt only struck someone nearby, the commander would surely die. As expected, when the lightning bolt whistled through the air with a distinct sound, the commander saw it coming. He raised his sword to deflect it, and the bolt changed course. Though blinded by rage, he was sane enough to know he couldn't block a projectile of that speed, but the deflected bolt struck his bodyguard instead. In an instant, a dark cloud formed above the commander's head. Before he could clear the area, a barrage of lightning crashed down from the cloud. The commander and his entire squad of guards fell after taking only a few more steps.

Seeing the commander’s eyes still wide open in death, it was clear how unjust his end was. He would have been safe leading from the rear, but seeing his other generals fall, he had charged in a fit of rage—only to meet a miserable end.

Mo Fei thought the enemy would fall into chaos and retreat once their supreme commander was dead. To his surprise, the charging troops only glared with bloodshot eyes and rushed forward even faster.

"Mages, attack!" Mo Fei was losing his patience. If they wanted to die, he would oblige them. "Order the cavalry to sortie!"

The moment the command was given, an Elven crossbowman behind Mo Fei fired a whistling arrow into the sky, aimed toward the great forest more than ten miles away.

After the arrow was loosed, the enemy reached the moat. The cavalry rode straight into it, and even the corpses bristling with bolts tumbled into the water.

"Don't let them close in! All units, attack!" Mo Fei roared.

But the enemy was too fast. After breaking through the mages' fireball formation, a portion of the enemy jumped into the moat and began to swim across. Mo Fei, gripped by urgency, stood up, threw his arms wide, eyes bulging, and thrust his hands forward. The mages behind him suddenly stopped their attack. They watched in horror as, with Mo Fei's gesture, a dense cloud of ice arrows instantly materialized before him and struck out with lightning speed. In a large fan-shaped area centered on Mo Fei, not a single enemy soldier remained standing; they had all been felled by his terrifying magical assault. Mo Fei continued to manifest ice arrows and fire them forward without pause. Soon, the center of the enemy line was completely cleared, though the enemy continued to press in from both flanks.

No amount of arrow fire could stop a crowd driven by a suicidal conviction. The soldiers who reached the wooden wall could not climb it, so they began hacking at the wood with their blades. The area directly beneath the wall was a blind spot for the giant crossbows, but the handheld ones had no such limitation. The Berserkers stood up; while the giant crossbows continued to fire forward, they aimed their handheld ones downward at the base of the wall. Soon, a pile of corpses grew there as well.

There were too many enemies. More and more reached the wall, and in some places, the piles of bodies were already half as high as the barricade. It would not be long before they broke through.

Just then, the Death Cavalry arrived. The thunderous sound of their approach echoed behind the enemy lines. From a distance, they poured countless bolts into the enemy's rear guard. Knowing their young master was under attack at the pier and seeing the enemy swarming the wall, they were overcome with anxiety. They drove their mounts to a frenzy, the horses’ iron hooves trampling the enemy soldiers who blocked their path.

The enemy's rear was quickly thrown into disarray, but the soldiers at the front, now completely insane, scrambled up the mountains of corpses to reach the wall. The Berserkers tossed aside their crossbows and drew their great axes. When it came to close-quarters strength, what had a Berserker ever feared?

More and more enemies swarmed onto the wooden wall. Finally, the defensive line was breached, and the enemy forces poured through in an endless tide.