Chapter 1152: Challenge
Monarch of Evernight
The first defeat hadnât affected the dark racesâ firm resolve to attack. Although they had suffered grave losses on the first two lines of defense, they had an overwhelming advantage in numbers. They were able to reorganize swiftly as more dark race warriors were arriving from the rear and squeezing into the forward base.
The dark races didnât remain idle while they were reorganizing. They assembled a good number of heavy cannons and kept up the bombardment. There was no way Dark Flame would be willing to lose out on the artillery exchange.
The heavy cannons inside Whitetown spat out tongues of flame as they poured shells upon the dark race cannon formation. One after the other, dark race heavy cannons were silenced by the overwhelming firepower. However, the determined dark races would replace the lost weapons with greater speed and fire back at the mercenaries.
The human forces couldnât compare to the dark race and their slave soldiers in number. Hence, they had to focus on the enemy heavy cannons and could only do limited damage to the assembling soldiers.
Under Prattâs command, the dark race experts stopped conserving origin power and did their utmost to intercept the incoming cannon-fire. That also reduced the effect of Dark Flameâs heavy cannons.
As the dark race army finished assembling, a mournful bugle spread its distant voice across the battlefield. All the dark race warriors felt their blood boiling.
With the signal to attack given, the dark race warriors jumped out of their base and charged at Whitetownâs defensive line.
The vanguard warriors had just stepped within firing range when they felt their vision light up. They reflexively sealed off their vision, but they soon realized that the light didnât come from the star shells. Instead, it was a continuous stream of fire that had lit up along the silhouette of the entire city.
In the blink of an eye, the dark race soldiers at the front fell down in droves. It was almost as though they had run into an invisible wall.
However, the soldiers at the back stepped on the corpses of their fallen comrades and kept charging forward. The defensive fire from Whitetown flickered constantly and without pause, sending forth wave upon wave of bullets to reap the lives of the advancing enemy.
The Dark Flame mercenaries fired with despair-inducing density, raising dark race casualties to unbearable levels.
After some rest and reorganization, the tottering second defensive line quickly became a meat grinder.
On the warship, Pratt looked on emotionlessly as droves of dark race soldiers stumbled down. Each of the dark race armyâs step forward was paved with countless corpses.
âSire, should we...â an arachne count asked cautiously.
Pratt said decisively, âThatâs all they have left! Issue my order, everyone under the marquis rank shall attack!â
The arachne count was shocked. âSire, Qianye is in the city!â
âSo what? Even Medlosi has died for the cause, do you cowards want to hide behind the lines? Go!â
The arachne count bowed. âAs you wish, Sire, but those werewolves have been preserving their strength. Why donât we...â
Pratt pondered for a good while this time. After a while, his eyes were filled with a harsh killing intent. âOrder Marquis Redtooth to oversee the frontlines. His position is too far back.â
âWhat do we do if Sire Redtooth doesnât listen?â
âThen I will convince him myself.â
The arachne count left with his orders.
After paying the price in heavy casualties, the dark race army managed to charge into Whitetownâs defensive lines twice, but they were pushed back both times. The front line soldiers werenât entirely made up of madmen who werenât afraid to die. After the death toll had reached a certain level, even the most berserk werewolf would start to shrink back.
They reorganized outside of firing range, preparing for an attack of greater scale. The third charge had begun, and this time, things were clearly different from before. The large number of dark race experts moved forward amidst the incoming fire and soon brought their units to the defensive line.
Then, they proceeded to destroy the defensive structures one after the other.
Escalating the battle to this degree outside of the city was a clumsy strategy, to say the least, but regardless of the casualties, it remained true that paving the path with lives was the most efficient way to fight.
The Dark Flame mercenaries also fell into confusion, but the veterans in the defensive line knew that retreating meant death. It was better to fight to the last breath and maybe find some hope of survival.
Due to the influx of experts, the dark races took up the absolute advantage in terms of close-quarter combat. As more and more of them charged into the defensive line, Dark Flameâs casualty rate shot up exponentially.
On the wall, Song Zining was gazing down at the fight around the second defensive line. âWhat an impetuous fellow, sending out your experts so soon? I thought Iâd have to wait until youâre at the city walls.â
He produced a silver mask from his robes and fastened it on his face. Then, he reached out to grab the spear his attendant was offering.
Song Zining jumped out with his spear and soon vanished into the air.
On the battlefront, a berserk arachne viscount was swinging his axe in a circle, slashing three mercenaries through the waist. He roared at the sky as the boiling fresh blood splashed onto his body, but his excited laughter came to a sudden stop. That was because a spear made of unknown material had pierced his throat.
Song Zining pulled the weapon back with a shake of his hand and moved away. He took three steps all of a sudden and, wielding his spear like a dragon, took the life of a dark race expert with each movement.
In the dark night, Song Ziningâs white robes and long spear were especially eye-catching. He was invincible wherever he went and left no enemy general alive. In the blink of an eye, his silver mask was stained with blood, and his white robes had turned scarlet red.
If the commander was fighting so hard, how could the subordinates not do their best as well? The mercenaries immediately felt their blood boiling as they fought desperately to the last breath. Thus, the tottering defensive line was stabilized once again.
Right after he had flicked a baron into the air, Song Ziningâs flickering silhouette suddenly became clear for a moment. He had spent quite a bit of stamina in the constant fighting, so it was only natural that his Three Thousand Flying Leaves Art would become unstable.
It was during this split-second gap that the night sky was stained with a layer of red, and a gigantic fang appeared at Song Ziningâs back.
Jolted, Song Zining pulled his spear back and turned around. Without even looking, he knew that he had been locked onto and that there was no way to evade this lethal blow. The only way was to attempt a mutually destructive move and force the enemy to give up.
No one knew what expression Song Zining had beneath the mask. Considering how the enemy was able to grasp such an opening amidst the chaotic battle and launch a sneak attack, it was easy to guess that he was almost as strong as Song Zining himself. How could it be easy to turn the tables on such an opponent, especially since he had gotten the advantage?
A faintly discernible figure, almost impossible to spot against the flaming background of the battlefield, flickered beneath Song Ziningâs spear. The shadow arrived swiftly behind and swiped at his back!
Just as the claw was about to touch Song Ziningâs white robes, the faint silhouette became highly alert. He had noticed a certain figure appear out of nowhere in the distanceâQianye. Amidst the flickering lights and passing shadows, the werewolf felt as though he could see his own reflection in the enemyâs eyes.
All of a sudden, a chill surged up in his heart because what he had seen was simply too weird. It was almost like an illusion, and he simply didnât know what he was afraid of. No matter how powerful Qianye was, he was a thousand meters away. What could he even do?
The werewolfâs resolution was firm enough. Even though he was inwardly shaken, the killing move he was performing never slowed down. Those sharp claws kept moving forward, tearing through the white robes, inner armor, and flesh before finally meeting resistanceâthat was Song Ziningâs ribs.
Recoil from the gushing daybreak origin power impacted the werewolfâs claws, which was then suppressed by the well-prepared darkness origin power. The frail human body was at a clear disadvantage in such melee fights. The werewolf was just about to dig out Song Ziningâs heart with the next move when he felt another chill behind his back. The cold cut through to his bones with unstoppable momentum!
He turned back rapidly, only to find a silhouette several hundred meters away. That was Qianye, but it was only his afterimage.
Withdrawing the claw he had in Song Ziningâs body, the werewolf spun around and swiped behind him. However, his vision was filled with a sword radiance as he turned around. The werewolfâs upper body flew high into the air, and only at this point did Qianyeâs silhouette slowly appear.
Qianye glanced upward and said in surprise, âOh, itâs a marquis?â
âCouldnât you tell?â Song Zining walked over.
âHeâs quite weak.â
âWeak? I almost lost my life there, how is that weak?â Song Zining said angrily.
Qianye smiled indifferently. âThereâs no way youâll die when Iâm around. Are you okay?â
âJust a surface injury, nothing serious. He didnât even injure my bones.â
Only at this point did Redfangâs upper body land with a thud. He was still struggling to stand up, but the cut edges of his flesh had been charred from Qianyeâs Venus Dawn origin power. It was easy to see that the marquis wasnât going to survive.
Qianye glanced at the unresigned werewolf and said in a puzzled tone, âI wasnât wrong, he looks weak.ân/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om
âWhy would you feel that heâs weak? His origin power rank is higher than mine, but it is true that the shadow wolves arenât as strong physically. Wait a minute... turn back to me.â
Qianye looked at Song Zining in confusion. The latter stared into his eyes for a good while before saying, âSo thatâs how it is. Your eye abilities have improved again.â
âIs that so? I didnât feel it.â
Song Zining glared at him. âYou didnât feel it? Were you ever able to restrain a marquis before?â
Qianye said after some thought, âNo.â
âThere you have it. Enough about that, letâs sound the retreat. You and I will bring up the rear.â Song Zining flew carelessly into the air, his spear drawing several trails before he put it away and stood with his hand behind his back.
A row of star-shells shot out from Whitetown as the heavy cannons rumbled to provide cover fire.
The dark race experts could break through the restraints of the flares and heavy cannons, but Qianye and Song Zining were standing side by side at the center of the battlefield.
They were waiting for people to fight them, but who would dare when even Redfang was slaughtered in one blow?
All eyes on the Evernight side fell upon Pratt. Only the arachne vice-duke would have a chance at breaking past the duo.
Pratt remained motionless, much like a sculpture.
Moments later, the star-shells had dissipated, and the heavy cannons had stopped firing. The smoke eventually dispersed to reveal the outline of Whitetown. The second defensive line was already emptyâall the mercenaries had retreated into the city, leaving Qianye and Song Zining standing before the gates.
Prattâs pupils constricted as he stared at Qianye.
As though sensing something, the latter turned his head ever so slightly to meet the gaze from thousands of meters away.
He raised his brows with a cold smile. A sanguineous line rose up into the air, as did his vigor and imposing demeanor. He was waiting for Pratt to meet him in battle.
Pratt looked up at the sky and saw that the full moon was actually a hazy color of blood.