Iron Harvest: When Farming Becomes Conquest-Chapter 315 - 21: The War is Decided (Extra for Grand Alliance Leader Flying Flame)

Chapter 315: Chapter 21: The War is Decided (Extra for Grand Alliance Leader Flying Flame)

"Heavy Equipment Array!"

The dull beat of military drums resounded as the heavy equipment troops heard the command, raised their Heavy Shields, and formed two 200-meter-long arc-shaped barricades on either side, standing their ground to protect the Central Army.

More than a thousand cavalry of the Holy War Army, seeing this, had no choice but to bypass them, making a longer flanking charge at the rear end of the River Valley Army, hoping to scatter them.

"Cavalry cover!"

The River Valley’s plate-armored cavalry charged out, around 500 in number, intercepting the Judgement Knights and Demon Hunting Knights.

Both cavalry forces dashed towards each other, crossing paths; about three hundred cavalrymen fell from their horses, both enemies and allies.

But in this charge, the Holy War Army, leading with Judgment and Demon Hunting Knights, was clearly superior.

"Casting Group!"

At this time, more than ten war horses from the River Valley side charged out from the diagonals.

The plate-armored witches on horseback cast spells, plunging the area within a radius of tens of meters into darkness. The Knights of the Holy War Army were shocked in their hearts, their steeds not adapting to the sudden change. Some fell on the spot, some hesitated and didn’t move forward, some had their Speed drastically reduced and were knocked down by comrades behind them, resulting in utter chaos.

The Demon Hunting Knights quickly scattered Holy Salt, but it only dispelled part of the darkness.

They were then subjected to magical Attacks from within the dark.

The middle-rank witches, interspersed among the River Valley Cavalry and under the protection of a host of cavalry, unexpectedly cast spells, striking together, knocking many of the Holy War Army’s cavalrymen off their horses.

...

"Prepare for the fourth round of fire!"

"Fire!"

"Pike phalanx! Drop the arrows! Push forward! Push forward!"

"Heavy Equipment troops! Break formation! Crush through! Crush through!"

"Archers! Sniper Group! Fire at will! Provide arrow rain cover!"

One by one, the battle commands were issued to all the troops, part of the offensive plan established before the battle.

...

Arrows were extremely deadly to an army without armor.

They were too numerous to flee or hide, and even Lock Armor could not stop the sharp arrowheads.

After three rounds of arrow rain, many gaps were created in the Holy War Army’s lines, filled with lamentation, showing signs of collapsing.

But with their significant numerical advantage, inspired by the battle hymns of the nun choir, a group of them initiated a suicide charge.

Half of the three-thousand Armored Soldiers, along with about two thousand Sword Masters, charged over,

The Holy War Army had a warfare mode of long-range Archery, mid-range Javelin throwing, and close-combat phalanxes.

Javelin throwers followed behind them, but the javelins were meant for mid to long-range, and many of the numerous javelin thrower fell on the battlefield before making a significant impact.

Their Archers were decimated by the River Valley Army at the defenders’ camp, and now, even after managing to gather some long-range Archers, their quality was vastly inferior to that of the River Valley side. Faced with the horrific Arrow Attack, the former had no way to retaliate.

Even when they managed to fire, their arrows proved ineffective against the enemy’s solid armor.

In close combat, a thousand pike soldiers marched forward directly, overwhelming the Sword Masters skilled in individual combat upon the first clash, with heavy casualties. Some were outright skewered, unable to avoid the assault. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

"Pike phalanx! Advance! Advance!!"

The pike phalanx, holding their Super Long Spears level, marched forward in tight, orderly ranks like a river of silver rolling over a tangled mess of thread.

This was the confrontation on the front of the battlefield. The Holy War Army broke upon contact, their defenses utterly dissolving.

"Heavy Equipment troops! Press on!"

On the flanks, they encountered the Heavy Equipment troops, akin to a wall of steel moving forward. Those who faced these troops couldn’t break through; they could only retreat and press back against those behind them, creating further disorder in the already unbearable battlefield.

"Guard! Tear apart the enemy!"

The Guard formations squeezed to the front lines, each soldier armed with long blades and shields, plunging into the Holy War Army’s lost control, commencing a one-sided slaughter.

Cold steel armor, sharp blades, relentless carnage.

Bodies piled up, falling to the ground, covering the field.

Blood multiplied, flowing out, rivers of blood forming.

---

Roman stood on a hill, looking out into the distance, able to see the state of the battle.

Shasta’s red lips parted slightly, staring dumbfounded at the scene before her. In that moment, she thought of many things—the plight of the Witch Forest, her teacher the Thunder Witch’s last words before dying were still vivid in her mind. She said the witches were merely courting death, making futile sacrifices...

Margaret stared intently at the gruesome battlefield, her breathing growing more rapid. Unable to contain the turmoil within her, she briskly grabbed a horse and charged toward the battle.

"Margaret!" Shasta yelled.

But the Scarlet Witch seemed not to hear.

She rode into the battlefield, her blood-red hair wildly dancing in the air, the crimson in her eyes intensifying. Awakening the Blood State, she descended like a queen, adding the most intense color to the chaotic battlefield.

Roman frowned slightly but soon relaxed again. Nothing else mattered now.

The war was decided.

---

Angus knew that the hymn-singing nuns had done their utmost, but the situation had developed far beyond anyone’s expectations.

This was not something that could be salvaged by faith or morale.

The Holy War Army was being crushed.

Their archers had been wiped out at the very start.

Their Conquest Knights dispatched were entangled by the enemy’s cavalry.

Armored soldiers and sword masters were retreating step by step on the battlefield, while the flanks of the Blasphemers’ army were protected by a copper wall and iron bastion.

Unless the hymn-singing nuns could directly summon the All Gods to descend, there was no hope of victory in this war.

"Leave it all to the All Gods!" the young knight said.

The young knight pulled his reins, looking at the suffering believers with a face of compassion.

"Let’s go, Sir Angus!" Matthew’s lips were pale, and Bishop Elva was trembling all over.

They watched helplessly as the River Valley Guard cut through a large part of the Holy War Army.

An army of tens of thousands lost control completely within a mere hour.

Some were fleeing, some didn’t know where to flee to. People were everywhere, screams of killing filled the air, and they were like headless flies.

"Lord Matthew, Bishop Elva, you go ahead," Angus said. "I’ll cover your retreat. Take the believers back."

Here was the last batch of reserve cavalry.

Angus suddenly roared, "No retreat in battle, face the fierce enemy head-on, forget about life when cornered, and never surrender even when death is certain! For the Holy War, for glory! All Gods, shine upon me! Shine upon me!!"

"Charge with me! Charge with me!!"

The north wind was howling, and so was the knight.

With that, he raised his cavalry spear high, as straight as his spine.

Angus pulled the reins, and his warhorse started to run.

The young figure charged fearlessly towards the putrid battlefield, like a knight making a last charge at the end of time.

"Lord Angus!" someone called out to him.

But the call was drowned out by even more responses.

"The All Gods shine upon us!" The reserve cavalry launched together, one horse after another followed behind him, and the rumbling sound of hooves formed a unified roar.

This last force tried to stop the relentless advance of the terrifying army to create time for the rest of the Holy War Army to retreat, but unexpectedly encountered the Scarlet Witch who had also set out for the battlefield from another direction.

Cavalry spears and spells clashed, and both sides entangled each other even as they charged into the fray.

Angus’s warhorse was exceptionally outstanding, as swift as lightning. The tip of his cavalry spear was made of diamond, invincible. Adorned with a Blood Gem, he was endowed with abundant energy. So, he was the last to die.

He didn’t know how long he had fought until he was struck by something. His blood boiled inside him, his body took the hit and was flung into the air, soaring high, then crashed back to the ground with a heavy thud.

He had no regrets. He truly came to this strange land filled with a devout faith and fervent blood to join the Holy War and was willing to give his life to protect the believers of the All Gods, simply because he was also a believer. If he met the All Gods at this moment, he could proudly say, "I’ve done my best for Your believers!"

Angus lay on the bloodstained and muddy ground, still clutching his cavalry spear, bleeding from every orifice, his once young and handsome features unrecognizable. He struggled to stare with his now-blind eyes in the direction of the sun.

In the bleak, freezing sky, only the sun was warm. He tried to reach out for that unseen sun, and to see if the believers had safely retreated.

But he couldn’t grasp anything anymore; he couldn’t see anything anymore. The cold army passed by him, no one cared about a dying man, nor did anyone care about a young and vibrant sun that fell mercilessly before noon. Like the relentless wheels that crush the years, leaving behind only a track of advancement in history.

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