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They had also implemented a divide-and-conquer strategy, which made the current battlefield situation still unfavorable.

However, there was still some good news.

The Spirit Hunters were not foolish enough to spread their three main battalions too thinly. They had set up interception forces in several directions, allowing half of the Witch Hunters’ five divided squads to pass through the blockades unscathed and quickly reach the vicinity of the Anderma Hills.

But with three squads successfully traversing the war zone, it meant the remaining two smaller squads had undoubtedly fallen into the enemy’s ambush and were being obstructed.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry!”

Aboard his horse, Joy Stick shouted to the Transia reinforcements who had just routed two battalions of Spirit Hunter recruits:

“Send these wounded to the rear, and any able-bodied brothers, quickly follow me. Niuniu and Sister Pomegranate’s squads have been encircled in the middle like dumplings.”

“Ah, we have to fight again?”

Among the crowd, Heaven’s Chosen Grayman sat on a rock, panting. This administrative player student looked like he had been pulled out of a bloodbath, with only 2 strength points and no Black Iron trial experience. He clutched a hunting crossbow, and at his feet was a whimpering recruit with an arrow stuck in his buttocks, seemingly a “masterpiece” by the Grayman.

Gasping for breath, he said, “No, I really can’t run anymore. You guys go on.”

“At a time like this, you still want to desert? Hey, being a fugitive is subject to military court-martial!”

Beside him, the athletic Khaki Tony Tai was in high spirits after using his equipment advantage to cut down five enemies earlier. Disregarding the Grayman’s injury, he forcibly dragged him onto a war horse, and the two of them followed Joy Stick to aid their encircled brothers.

This task required riding skills, so players who had not learned horseback riding could only remain behind, responsible for receiving and retreating the White Oak Battalion’s wounded.

The Witch Hunters who had escorted their comrades here no longer spouted nonsense about the old faith warriors and Blood Servants not sharing the same sky. After entrusting their injured comrades to the Kadman Civilian Self-Defense Force veterans, they turned their horses around and charged back with the players, unwilling to abandon any more of their comrades.

“Where is Lord Murphy? There are high-ranking Spirit Mages over there, and we can’t handle them! We need Lord Murphy to help!”

Little Ashina pulled on Maxim’s reins and shouted to the familiar NPC. Maxim glanced at the spirit bead’s translation and said in a low voice, “The lord has already rushed over after realizing his warriors were surrounded. He would never allow you to fight alone. Are you afraid of heights, warriors?”

“Ah?”

Little Ashina and Lumina looked at each other, puzzled by what this NPC was implying. In the next instant, Maxim unfurled Murphy’s massive Blood Wings, grabbing Lumina with one hand and lifting Little Ashina with the other. He then shot into the air, performing a 2-second acceleration to supersonic speeds in a twisting spiral to change direction, rapidly flying towards the distant battlefield.

“Ahhhhh!”

Ashina and Lumina’s howling voices echoed far into the night, causing the players below to stare up at the sky, as if a terrifying female ghost had appeared on this battlefield that had just witnessed slaughter. Meanwhile, some lecherous individuals were “inspired.”

They took the opportunity to crowd around Lady Adele, using various excuses in the hopes that Lady Adele would also fly them over to support Lord Murphy and their comrades.

Adele, however, remained oblivious to these individuals’ “dark thoughts” but still firmly refused them.

Mainly because she had her own mission, to remain behind and lead the remaining vampires in pursuit of the routed soldiers.

Lord Murphy had given the order: tonight, not a single one of these Circle Tower dogs would be spared!

Those maniacs who dared to violate the Blood Vulture’s authority must all die here, to appease the innocent souls in Kadman City who perished from the Circle Tower’s spirit-rending rituals.

Meanwhile, the two squads of breakthrough forces surrounded by the Spirit Hunters had been forced to converge. The two groups totaled just over 500, but only less than 100 were combat-ready, facing an assault from 300 cavalry led by two high-ranking Spirit Mages and eight official Spirit Mages.

The battlefield was surrounded by a war fog released to obscure vision, not only blocking the Witch Hunters’ natural perception but also reducing visibility to less than a meter.

This was clearly a determined effort to kill every last Witch Hunter here.

On the other side, the Spirit Mages included summoners, continuously releasing otherworldly monstrosities onto the battlefield, bloodthirsty war hounds with no skin, only red muscle tissue and blackened skeletons adorned with underworld armor, bald vultures bound by tattered cloth strips attacking in the mist. This entire grim spectacle from the realm of death caused the Witch Hunters’ defensive formation to continuously retreat.

The enemy’s Spirit cavalry also relentlessly harassed them from all sides in a manner bordering on cruelty, like a wolf pack. Any breach in the formation would result in gruesome slaughter amidst the mist-shrouded crowd.

At this moment, the four little players serving as guides were also out of ideas.

Facing the current chaotic situation where allies and enemies were intermingled, being able to preserve themselves would already be considered fortunate.

“Niuniu! Niuniu!”

Sister Pomegranate felt like she was trapped in the most realistic nighttime battlefield chaos.

Riding her horse through the commotion, she kept calling out for her younger brother, but in the pandemonium, she couldn’t find any trace of Niuniu. Even her squadmate Fatal Orchid and her beloved Stone Gargoyle mount had gone missing.

But Sister Pomegranate couldn’t leave.

Because she was guarding a pregnant woman and a half-grown child beside her.

Pregnant women were an absolute minority in the White Oak Battalion, and judging by the child’s age, they were likely relatives of a Witch Hunter caught up in the Avalon Church rebellion ten years ago.

Sister Pomegranate knew her best strategy now was to abandon these two burdens and regroup with the Witch Hunters reorganizing their lines. But whenever she turned to look at the pregnant woman clutching her child behind her, she softened.

Although they both wore the White Oak Battalion’s recruit armor, their expressions and movements made it clear they were no warriors!

If she left, these two would undoubtedly die in the current situation.

“Kill!”

A shrill cry to kill came from the side as three Spirit cavalry spotted Sister Pomegranate and her burdens through the mist, immediately charging at them like wild beasts, eyes gleaming.

“I’ll never have kids in the future!”

Sister Pomegranate glanced at the two terrified individuals behind her, gritted her teeth, and shouted. She spurred her horse forward, judged the distance, and lunged with a flying kick, her hands extended like dual assassin blades, knocking two riders off their mounts. She then kicked them aside in the ensuing melee on the ground, stood up, grabbed her hand crossbow from her waist, and fired a bolt at the last rider.

But soon after, she was struck in the calf by an arrow shot from the mist, causing her to fall to the ground in a surge of pain.

“Tsk!”

Lying on the ground, her face covered in dirt, Sister Pomegranate looked up to see that the bolt she had fired failed to hit the third rider, who was now swinging his blade towards the petrified child held tightly by the pregnant woman.

“No!”

At this critical juncture, a bloody throwing axe suddenly whizzed through the mist from the side, knocking the rider off his horse. Like A Tiger Can Edge Wood then charged out, his bloodied twin swords in hand, delivering a swift execution before dragging the child and pregnant woman off the horse and dashing back into the mist without a backward glance.

“Damn! I was still here! Are you blind?”

Sister Pomegranate was both relieved at the two burdens being rescued and angry at Master Mao’s “failure to help.”

But this couldn’t really be blamed on Master Mao.

He had blindly stumbled upon them in the mist and rescued them by chance. In the current battlefield chaos, there was no time to observe if any players were lying on the ground after being ambushed. However, with her burdens gone, Sister Pomegranate could finally cut loose.

She limped to her feet, wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth, and grinned as she charged at the two remaining Spirit cavalry.

However, her luck seemed particularly bad tonight.

After swiftly dispatching the two ordinary Black Iron mooks, Sister Pomegranate turned to see a Spirit commander wielding a sword and shield emerge from the mist.

His armor was noticeably heavier than the foot soldiers’, and the instant their eyes met, Sister Pomegranate quickly cast a scouting spell.

Fourth Battalion Commander of the Spirit Hunters, Elite Black Iron unit.

Whoa!

I’m doomed!

“This isn’t quite the Black Iron trial scenario I had envisioned for myself.”

Sister Pomegranate stood her ground, taking a deep breath to calm herself. Her fists clenched, and six spikes popped out of her knuckle dusters like a tiger’s claws, blood dripping but her fighting spirit ignited!

The battalion commander noticed Sister Pomegranate’s action and chuckled coldly, raising his shield and tapping the flaming longsword against it.

A provocation!

This was definitely a provocation, right?

Sister Pomegranate gritted her teeth, took two steps forward, then suddenly froze.

During the earlier chaos of the ambush, an enemy Spirit Mage had struck her, causing her Stone Gargoyle mount, which had been flung who-knows-where, to reappear in her perception, like a downed drone mysteriously navigating itself back home.

Well, although this Stone Gargoyle wasn’t a combat construct, it was still her servant and part of her strength, right?

So if it joined the Black Iron trial, that wouldn’t count as cheating?

Ugh, why did things always happen to her that skirted the edges of exploiting bugs?

She was clearly a power-gamer, wasn’t she?

“This is so annoying! Everything tonight is annoying! I really want to punch this boring world to pieces!”

Sister Pomegranate didn’t think further. She dug her feet in and charged forward like a ferocious predator, keeping her eyes locked on her opponent while mentally commanding her circling Stone Gargoyle to dive down from above at maximum speed.

She shouted:

“Although it’s different from what I imagined, I’ll be taking your annoying head!”

——

“Put me down! You run and get help!”

In another part of the mist-shrouded battlefield, the scout Amber said weakly:

“We’re at the edge of the mist now. Hurry and break through to call for reinforcements. Whether these 500 people live or die depends on you.”

“It’s chaos here, how can I run?”

Niuniu, carrying her on his back, complained:

“You’re useless too! You’re supposed to be an excellent scout, but your luck is always so rotten? I remember last time in Morland Village, you were the first one taken down, right? By the way, I’ve always wanted to ask you, is your eye injury from what we did last time?”

“No.”

Amber had been struck by two arrows in the back. Normally, with a Witch Hunter’s physical conditioning, two arrow hits wouldn’t be fatal. But the Spirit Hunters clearly lacked the martial code of the Witch Hunters, as those pragmatists had imbued the arrows with an enfeeblement spell, leaving Amber struggling even to walk.

Carried by Niuniu through the chaotic mist like a headless fly, the disorienting enfeeblement spell made her feel dizzy.

Hearing Niuniu’s question, she answered breathlessly, “It was from a vampire torturer’s poison, but I’m not completely blind. I’m just very sensitive to light, and my pupils change to an odd color, so I wear the blindfold. Wait! People are surrounding us up ahead. Put me down!

Move quietly.”

Niuniu immediately set Amber down, gripping his one-handed warhammer and buckler as he crouched beside her. Amber caught her breath and readied her hunting rifle.

Sweat beaded her brow, but she grit her teeth to maintain alertness. Through the dissipating night mist ahead, she saw three figures approaching warily.

Two Spirit Hunter guards were escorting a panicked Spirit Mage, seemingly trying to flee the battlefield.

Amber made a hand signal.

But Niuniu was too tense about the impending ambush to notice his teammate’s warning, causing Amber to sigh helplessly.

She took aim, then pulled the trigger the instant Niuniu rose to launch his assault.

“Bang!” One of the guard’s necks exploded in a spray of blood as he convulsed and fell. Amber then mustered her strength to hurl a dagger, piercing his eye. The other guard was stunned by Niuniu’s shield bash to the face, leaving him dazed before the athletic student’s spiked Witch Hunter warhammer cracked his skull.

Hey, skull crusher, kid!

But then Niuniu was blasted back by the Spirit Mage’s searing flames, tumbling twice before slamming into the ground. Amber tried to throw another dagger but was choked by a spirit binding around her throat, struggling in agony.

Could this young man with a hint of male pride just accept this?

This was an NPC he had painstakingly raised to an extremely high affection level! If you got her killed now, wouldn’t all his previous efforts be wasted?

Pfft!

Accept death!

“Thwack!”

The one-handed hammer was hurled like a throwing hammer, striking the Spirit Mage’s collision absorption shield head-on. But this barbaric attack from a warrior did no damage to the noble mage, who turned his disdainful gaze towards Niuniu. The athletic student had already drawn his vampire family’s Wing Blade.

Right hand holding the buckler forward, body lowered, he then charged towards the enemy.

Speaking of which, in a 100% realistic game, the “charge” skill was nothing like imagined, especially for players with poor physical coordination, using a charge could make them experience shortness of breath and motion sickness.

In severe cases, they might even vomit.

But the athletic Niuniu, with his well-developed physical abilities, had no such issues.

He was probably among the top players who could execute a charge most skillfully out of the current 70 players. This time was no exception, his aim was precise, his speed incredible, and at the last moment, he delivered the accumulated kinetic energy through his buckler in a devastating shield bash.

“Bam!”

The Spirit Mage’s shield finally shattered.

Under the mage’s wide-eyed gaze, Niuniu’s crimson vampire Wing Blade slashed diagonally, leaving a deep, bone-exposing gash on his robe.

“Ah!”

The Spirit Mage cried out in agony.

He realized he had underestimated this strange Blood Servant mingled with the Witch Hunters, but no matter. He was a noble mage.

If he could just create some distance, he would definitely be able to…

“Pffft!”

Niuniu angled his buckler, revealing the cocked hand crossbow concealed behind it.

With a player’s trademark disregard for the martial code, he pulled the trigger at point-blank range, the green hunting bolt spinning as it pierced the Spirit Mage’s abdomen, leaving him in too much pain to even teleport away.

While the Circle Tower didn’t follow the martial code, the Witch Hunters’ hunting bolts were no mere painful sting, imbued with nature spells, they would practically take root in the flesh. Within seconds, the mage lost all sensation in his abdomen and lower body.

Tsk, just like severing a little thread! Can’t feel a thing!

Poison!

This Blood Servant used poison! Utterly devious and dishonorable! No martial code!

This mage will settle the score with you today!

Driven to desperation, the Spirit Mage threw caution to the wind, unleashing a violent arcane blast that shattered Niuniu’s buckler. But the blood-crazed athletic student, eyes bloodshot, gripped his blade with both hands and charged, withstanding the searing sacrificial flames as he rained down a flurry of slashes.

Amber struggled to crawl to her hunting rifle, intent on supporting her warrior, but a hand clamped down on her shoulder from behind.

“He needs no help! He can handle formidable foes himself. He has grown resilient enough, as the Transian proverb goes, one who rouses the bull must pay the price!”

Murphy’s voice reached Amber’s ears as the Count of Kadman, elegantly dabbing his mouth with a handkerchief in the sated state after a fresh meal, watched his warrior’s clash with the Spirit Mage with keen appreciation.

He said softly, “Dear, luckless Miss Amber, please understand, this is a battle between men. A wise woman knows not to interfere at such times. You need only stand aside and await the victor with applause and ardent kisses. That is all.”