Chapter 3

Scarface remained silent.

"So, hating someone and thinking they should be responsible for everything is, in itself, naive. Look, the mages are about to cast their spells!"

Above the dim sky, a red light flashed.

"Magic? I hope it's a protective spell or something like that..."

"It's up to luck." The old man looked up at the sky with hope. "If the flow of the wind is suitable for these spells..."

Scarface understood what the old man meant. The power of magic comes from the eight types of energy flowing in the world—the True God Church calls these eight energies "winds." Each energy is an independent faction, requiring completely different methods to use and manipulate. Those who can control and harness these energies are called mages.

However, this so-called "control and harnessing" is actually limited. For example, on the battlefield, mages cannot actually choose which spells they can use. Because the flow of the magic winds is unpredictable, at any given moment, the flow of the wind is only suitable for using certain specific spells. If one forcefully uses spells that are not in harmony with the magic winds, the danger of the spell will greatly increase (mages may suffer some unpleasant accidents, such as exploding or turning into stone), and the power of the spell will greatly decrease. To put it simply: when the magic winds are fierce and violent, slow and gentle spells cannot be used, and when the magic winds are calm and peaceful, using explosive spells is like courting death.

Of course, there are some outstanding mages who can to some extent avoid these disadvantages and use multiple spells. But even the most powerful mages cannot freely use all spells at the same time.

In the common people's impression, mages are dangerous individuals who can casually throw fireballs. Indeed, in daily life, mages can draw small amounts of energy from the magic winds, gather them to form minor protective spells or do other things. But these minor matters are far from the true value of mages. These minor spells can only deal with a few opponents at most, but on the battlefield, five or six mages can exert enough power to turn the tide of a battle involving tens of thousands of troops.

The expected protective spell did not happen. The red light in the sky continued to flash and then disappeared.

"I wonder what kind of magic those vampires... will use..." The old man licked his dry lips and whispered.

Everyone knew that vampires and their subordinates, the dark wizards, used a different type of magical energy from the eight magic winds, known as black magic. This is an evil and corrupt power that only monsters like vampires or dark wizards dare to use. One of the most famous uses of this magic is to control the undead, making dead skeletons and rotting corpses rise again to form an undead army.

However, people knew very little about this kind of magic. Even the old man, who claimed to have once been a holy knight, knew little about it.

In the distance, something could already be seen emerging from the yellow sand. It was a terrifying sight.

Countless white skeletons, wearing rusted ancient armor, carrying swords and spears, and holding crude shields, stumbled out of the yellow sand.

This was a suffocating and unbearable time. Although the knowledge about the undead army had been repeatedly propagated, seeing the dead walking toward you with your own eyes still made your heart tighten involuntarily.

The old man gently patted Scarface's shoulder.

"Don't be nervous, look at their speed... it will take at least half an hour for them to get here. The best way to relieve tension before a battle is to chat..."

"How can you be so calm?"

"Because we've already gained. If it weren't for this, we would have been executed long ago. Thinking this way makes you feel more balanced. We are all pawns, and pawns should have the awareness of being pawns, not thinking of themselves as players."

"Pawns? Players?"

"From a book. Players can make choices, but pawns cannot. This is true for everyone in the world. Of course, some people can actually decide whether they are pawns or players. Do you know why you ended up in this situation, full of anger and resentment? Because you didn't make the right choice when you had the chance, and then you thought of yourself as a player when you were just a pawn. If you survive this time, remember one thing."

"What is it?"

"To control your own destiny, you must become a powerful person! Otherwise, no matter what you do, you will just be a clown."

"Boom!" The cannons in the rear began to fire. The shells landed in the middle of the undead army's formation, plowing a clear path. Wherever the shells landed, the skeleton soldiers were destroyed, turning into countless bone fragments.

But immediately, other undead filled the gaps. The path plowed by the shells disappeared in an instant.

On the highest sand dune behind the artillery, the human general was observing the results of the cannon fire.

"Very good, order the artillery to fire at will! Also, let the archers move forward, behind the sinners, and prepare for battle."

The fat man watched with satisfaction as the shells scattered the skeletons. Given the speed of the undead army's advance, by the time they finally entered close combat, each cannon would have fired enough shells to cause severe damage to the undead army.

The mages also acted at the right time. Unlike the protective spells Scarface and the others had hoped for, the magic winds seemed to be suitable for destructive spells. The human mages controlled the magic winds in the atmosphere, extracting pure fire and destructive energy, and then poured this energy into the middle of the undead army. Flames burst among the skeletons, causing them to collapse and disintegrate, returning to harmless dead objects.

"What undead army, what black magic, it's only this level!" Seeing the vast formation of skeleton soldiers rapidly shrink under the attacks of magic and cannons, the fat man laughed with satisfaction. If this continued, by the time the skeleton soldiers and the sinners engaged in close combat, there would be few left in the undead army.

Suddenly, a wind blew from the rear of the undead army, carrying countless yellow sands, blowing along the direction of the undead army's advance. The wind carried a foul, nauseating smell.

"Black magic!" someone cried out.

Where the evil wind of magic reached, the undead army seemed to be infused with extra strength. The skeleton soldiers, who were previously stumbling, now moved swiftly, charging forward. More terrifyingly, the skeleton soldiers that had been knocked down by the cannons and magic were already getting up and rejoining their ranks.

"Damn it!" The fat man cursed at the situation. "Order the cannons to increase their firepower. When the enemy arrives, the archers should immediately start shooting! Prepare the cavalry to outflank the enemy from behind."

The skeleton soldiers charged forward.

The distance was so close that the sinners could clearly see their opponents. The eyes of the skeleton soldiers glowed with an unclean light, tattered banners fluttered in the ranks, and broken horns sounded, like the mournful dirges of ghosts.

Arrows rained from the sky, causing groups of skeletons to fall, but the already dead had no fear. The skeleton soldiers charged through the arrows and engaged the sinners in close combat. The intense fear that came from instinct made more than one sinner scream and try to turn and run. But their waists were chained together, preventing them from retreating. The sinners had no choice but to fight to the death.

The fat man watched with satisfaction as the two front lines were locked in a stalemate, with the sinners holding back the enemy's attacks. The cannons, archers, and musketeers could steadily provide firepower.

"Order the artillery, archers, and musketeers to aim at the densest areas of the enemy, don't worry about friendly fire. Those sinners are scum, the fewer the better. Also, order the regular troops to move forward and tell them that if the sinners dare to retreat, they will be killed on the spot! Let the light cavalry rest and conserve their strength; if we need to pursue, it will be up to them."

Three spears thrust together, and the skeleton soldier fell. The black magic energy that connected its bones was disrupted and scattered, turning it back into motionless bones.

"Everyone, pay attention to the length of the chains, don't chase recklessly." The old man shouted hoarsely.

He commanded well, and the entire sinner squad formed a tight group. Whenever the undead charged, they would be hit by multiple spears and fall, so no one had been injured yet. However, overall, the sinners suffered heavy casualties. The first line of sinners was already completely wiped out, and the second line was also more than half dead. Many people were hit by arrows and bullets from behind.

They couldn't hold on any longer... They had moved from the second line to the front line, and then from the front line to a salient, facing more and more attacks. Although the old man skillfully directed everyone to retreat step by step, trying to share the pressure with friendly forces, this was only the case for their squad. Not every sinner squad had a recognized, battle-savvy leader.

The front-line soldiers had been fighting for over an hour. According to normal regulations, the front-line soldiers should be allowed to temporarily retreat and rest. But the general didn't care about the sinners' lives. Even arrows and bullets occasionally landed on their heads. If they were facing a different opponent, the old man might have led the entire squad to surrender.

But they were not facing living beings, but puppets driven by dark magic, devoid of emotion and reason.

"Alright, we retreat, or we'll become the main target of the enemy!" The old man shouted, leading the entire squad to retreat during the brief lull, giving them a much-needed respite.

A rumbling sound came from the distance.

The old man turned his head and looked at the huge dust cloud appearing in the distance. It looked like a red line, winding and twisting in the yellow sand.

"What is that?" Almost everyone in the squad saw this strange thing.

"No... it's impossible..." The old man muttered, looking at the red line winding from the distance.

The line moved quickly, and in a moment, it was close and clear. It wasn't actually a red line but many red dots. The red dots moved in the yellow desert, stirring up a cloud of dust.

"What is that?" Scarface looked into the distance. It looked like red cavalry? But horses couldn't run that fast, and if these were undead cavalry, why were they red? "Our reinforcements?"

"No..." The old man's lips trembled. "We're finished. Those are the Blood Knights, the elite forces of Calean! Each member is a vampire!"