132. The Great Counterattack 2

The reorganized enemy forces surged forward sooner than anyone had anticipated. This time, their frontline commander held back.

Because of this, the ballistae could not target him. As soon as the enemy vanguard entered range, a torrential downpour of arrows was unleashed. The enemy finally experienced the true terror of the ballistae; the sight of a single bolt piercing through two or more soldiers, pinning them together in a gruesome line, was truly horrifying. Yet, there was no retreat. With their commander pressing them from the rear, they knew that retreating meant certain death, while pushing forward might offer a slim chance of survival.

In front of the ballistae, three ranks of berserkers stood ready, giant crossbows in hand, waiting for the enemy to enter their range. Beside them lay their massive axes, reserved for close-quarters combat once the enemy breached the screen of arrows.

As the enemy drew closer, the countless arrows formed a veritable hell of death. The vanguard fell before the net of bolts, not a single one escaping. But more surged forward. The berserkers fired their crossbows with increasing urgency, and the mages’ fireballs exploded with greater ferocity. The enemy had now concentrated their forces on the side furthest from the mages, for on the side guarded by the magic-users, no enemy had yet managed to break through; under the constant bombardment of fireballs, they fell in swathes.

No matter how rapidly the arrows were fired, there was a limit to the speed. Soon, treading over the bodies of their fallen comrades, the enemy reached the front lines. The berserkers dropped their giant crossbows, drew their massive axes, and charged into the fray. Meanwhile, the dwarven and elven crossbowmen began picking off the enemy ranks. The ballistae shifted their focus entirely to the enemy’s reserve units, effectively carving a zone of death between the enemy’s vanguard and their rear guard. So few of the rear-guard forces managed to push past the ballistae's fire that, shortly after the berserkers waded into the melee with their axes, nearly one hundred thousand of the enemy’s vanguard troops had fallen. With the support of the crossbow fire, only a few berserkers were forced to retreat from the front line.

The enemy’s two assaults had been repelled.

Mo Fei knew the enemy would not accept defeat so easily; the next attack would surely be different.

Mo Fei issued the order to rest and resupply. All the imperial soldiers sat where they stood, consuming the fresh water and food provided by the logistics troops. They had to seize every moment to recover their strength, for no one knew when the next battle might begin.

After a brief respite, these elite imperial soldiers were refreshed. The warriors of the Flying Dragon Empire were designated as reserves, ready to be deployed wherever the situation became critical. As a disciplined force, they followed Mo Fei’s orders unconditionally. Though they all knew Mo Fei was shielding them, a fire burned in their hearts; they waited only for his command to charge into the enemy lines without hesitation.

The mixed beast-warrior army of the Magic Martial Empire also stood by as reserves on the other flank. Having no orders, they dared not act rashly; in their hearts, Mo Fei’s image had already gained significant weight.

The two hundred thousand soldiers of the Longyan Empire had passed the test. Having learned the value of coordinated tactics during the previous chaotic melee, they had suffered few losses. Mo Fei was highly satisfied; as soldiers from his original empire, they were absolutely qualified. The berserker instructors’ teachings on coordinated combat had been fully grasped, and the results were better than anyone had imagined. Like the berserkers, they were now filled with fighting spirit. This was an army that could not be easily defeated. A force with a clear goal is not easily broken, and the source of their strength was Mo Fei. He had been with them from the very beginning, and that was enough.

After a long while, the enemy finally moved again. This time, their vanguard pushed crude wooden shields forward, slowly inching their way up the slope. It was no wonder they had taken so long; they had spent the time constructing these makeshift shields. It seemed the enemy commander was not entirely incompetent.

However, this tactic was clearly ineffective here. From this elevated position, the crude shields could only cover the front; the main force behind remained fully exposed to the ballistae.

The ballistae fired. They ignored the shield-bearers and targeted the exposed troops behind them. Often, a single bolt would claim the lives of several soldiers, as the enemy was packed too tightly.

At this moment, the first three ranks of berserkers tilted their crossbows slightly upward, using the natural arc of the bolts to strike the enemy behind the shields. After all, few could hide behind the small wooden barriers, and once they closed in, they were no match for the berserkers’ axes. The enemy’s third assault failed. This time, however, the commander did not pause to reorganize; he ordered a full-scale charge. The enemy flooded forward like a tide. The ballistae no longer needed to aim; amidst such a dense human sea, any shot was guaranteed to reap multiple lives.

Except for the flank guarded by the mages, where the enemy could not take a single step forward, hand-to-hand combat had erupted in several places. In some sectors, over a dozen ballistae were even dismantled by the enemy. At a signal from Mo Fei, the warriors of the Flying Dragon and Magic Martial Empires charged toward the breaches. Mo Fei descended from the high ground, his hands never ceasing their work. No one could stand before him. Upon arriving at a breach, he unleashed his terrifying area-of-effect spell: Ice Arrows. Each fan-shaped volley brought down vast numbers of the enemy. Combined with the fireballs from the sixty mages following him, every breach was rapidly sealed wherever Mo Fei went.

The Death Empire had lost nearly a third of its ballistae by now, but the remaining ones continued to fire relentlessly. This deterred the enemy commander from approaching the front to direct the battle, causing him to lose his ability to widen the breaches. Instead, Mo Fei and his sixty mages systematically reclaimed the lost positions.

The enemy was pushed back to the front line once more. Terrified by the rain of arrows, they dared not retreat and became entangled with the berserker infantry. But the number of enemy troops that had broken through was limited, and they were no match for the berserkers, especially with the elven and dwarven crossbowmen picking them off from the sidelines. They could only fight to the death.

Because the ballistae were so effective, the enemy’s numbers were slowly whittled away. Aside from the axes used by the berserkers in close combat, the soldiers of the Death Empire were primarily crossbowmen, causing massive casualties that the enemy could not sustain. They could not afford this level of attrition so far from their base, whereas the Death Empire could be constantly replenished. The pressure on the enemy commander was immense.

Yet, he had no choice but to commit all his remaining forces. It was victory or annihilation; he understood this well. He only regretted choosing such a formidable continent to invade. They had only sent a small force for reconnaissance, and yet the main army had been forced into a full landing. If he could turn back the clock, he would never have targeted this land.

The two armies were now locked in a desperate struggle. The attacking enemy forces were periodically cut off from their reinforcements by the ballistae, whose dense volleys effectively split the attacking army into two. Even though the gaps were quickly filled, the devastating power of the ballistae had been proven. The enemy’s offensive strength continued to crumble under the fire. The battle had reached a stalemate. The berserkers at the ballistae were now firing mechanically, while the dwarven soldiers responsible for aiming pulled the trigger as soon as a bolt was loaded. They didn't even need to look; there were so many targets that any shot would find its mark.

The battle raged from morning until dusk, with neither side gaining the upper hand. Both armies were exhausted. However, the enemy had superior numbers, and slowly, the berserkers began to falter. They had been fighting since the start without any reinforcements. They had only managed to snatch brief moments of rest during the gaps when the ballistae disrupted enemy reinforcements, but then more waves would surge forward, leaving them with no real recovery time.

Night was falling, but the enemy showed no sign of stopping. Countless soldiers continued to crawl upward under the commander’s orders. Mo Fei could no longer remember how many times they had repelled the enemy. Seeing that the enemy was determined to fight to the death in this final hour, Mo Fei signaled the mages behind him.

During the later stages of the battle, the mages had been divided into two groups, alternating between fighting and resting. Consequently, the mages were actually the most rested and combat-ready unit. Having consumed potions and the fruit sent by the Elven Kingdom during their downtime, they recovered faster than ever before.

They had never fought for such a long duration, which inadvertently improved their magical control and mental focus to a great degree. They were too preoccupied with the ongoing battle to notice this change. Even Mo Fei had not realized that he could now cast his area-of-effect Ice Arrows while on the move, whereas previously, he had to stand still to cast them.

The sixty mages at his side had not yet rested, but they felt no fatigue, for a simple reason: Mo Fei’s group healing spell covered them all. They had not expected their Great Shaman to possess such restorative and augmenting magic. Through this battle, they had all mastered the technique of instant-cast fireballs. Wherever they went, the enemy suffered heavy casualties. This was why Mo Fei had not been in a rush to send Kane into the fray; he intended to give the enemy a lesson they would never forget at the moment they were most off-guard.

Wherever Mo Fei went, restoration spells flowed from his hands, and the resting berserkers, dwarven crossbowmen, and elven warriors felt their strength returning with renewed vigor.

The enemy was close now. The ballistae roared again. The enemy soldiers had become numb; they didn't even glance at the comrades falling beside them as they charged straight ahead. The arrow nets of the berserkers, dwarves, and elves continued to reap a massive toll. Before the enemy reached them, all the soldiers of the Death Empire were crossbowmen; once the enemy closed in, they were truly invincible warriors.

The time had come. After sweeping away a large swath of the enemy before him with a wave of his hand, Mo Fei signaled the berserker messenger to order the cavalry charge.

Suddenly, the shrill sound of arrow-whistles pierced the sky. Just as the enemy commander wondered what new tactic the defenders were employing, a thunderous sound erupted from behind them. It was the enemy’s fearsome cavalry. The commander had been puzzled as to why the defenders hadn't used their cavalry, assuming they had been driven back because the mountain terrain was unsuitable. Yet, these cavalrymen had somehow maneuvered behind them. Before this final assault, the enemy commander had kept a force of three hundred thousand in reserve to guard against this very cavalry, but in the heat of the desperate battle, he had committed this reserve to break the stalemate. Now, the commander had no troops left to mobilize.

Seeing the giant crossbows raised in the hands of the charging cavalry, the enemy commander knew that all was lost.