Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 274 - 273: Explosions and Flames

They are coming.

With tainted magic power and dust swirling around them, filled with hatred for the living and magic power, they brought the destruction and madness of the Gondor wasteland, stepping into the traps and minefields of the Cecil Clan.

Their attack was truly earth-shattering.

At the moment the alarm sounded, the atmosphere on the wall grew tense instantly. The new recruits equipped with heat-ray guns raised their Forcefield Shields. Under the command of officers and seasoned soldiers, they climbed to the top of the wall to form a defense line, and in their sight, those monsters were roaring madly, seemingly devoid of any sense of pain as they trampled over the mine-laden plains. The scene was gruesome, shocking, yet also heart-stopping.

The Cecil Combat Corps had a proportion of new recruits that would be a headache for any commander. In a corps of over a thousand people, more than eight hundred were gradually recruited after the first defense battle. Although they had the most sophisticated equipment and thorough training, no matter how well new recruits are trained, they are still new recruits. Without experiencing the stress of the battlefield, there is always an insurmountable barrier between them and the veteran soldiers. To mitigate this negative impact, Gawain had increased the proportion of practical training for the new recruits as much as possible. He sent them deep into the forest to protect exploration teams and battle monsters, trained them in the mountains, and even dispatched them to the Northern Wasteland and areas around the Kant territory to eradicate bandits and those desperado mercenaries gathering amid the chaos of the Kant territory. It was through these means that he barely ensured that every member of the Cecil Combat Corps had fired a shot and seen blood, allowing the recruits in the corps to grow. But they would still only be considered truly through their recruitment period once they passed today’s test.

After today, even if they are still not considered experienced veterans, at the very least, they would have completely shed the "new recruit" label.

The blood-red mist emerging from the mountain pass was getting thicker, gradually forming a blood-red cloud mass, and the aberrations pouring out from the cloud mass were charging towards the Cecil Clan’s South City Wall, wave after wave. The scent of living beings and the ever-present magical surges in the city served as beacons for those monsters, and as they emerged from the mountains, they charged toward their target, showing no hesitation even when the path ahead was a constantly exploding minefield.

Mines are a good thing, Gawain always believed this, especially when dealing with brainless monsters. No matter how many mines were laid on the battlefield, these headstrong creatures would rush forward without hesitation and tread across the entire minefield in a straight line. But as it turned out, effective as the mines were, they couldn’t entirely neutralize the threat posed by the aberrations because those creatures were simply too resilient and their "biological structures" too bizarre.

A crystal landmine could blow a creature’s lower body to smithereens, yet it wouldn’t die or fearfully retreat in the face of such wounds. Instead, they would continue to crawl forward with their remaining upper bodies until they triggered a second or even third landmine before being completely killed. Therefore, though these monsters were quick at stepping on mines, their efficiency in "clearing mines" with their bodies was equally astonishing.

Amid the continuous thunderous explosions, the blood-red mist line was rapidly advancing towards the city wall. The soldiers on the sentinel towers could already see through telescopes the horrifying scene of the leading edge of the monsters spiraling upwards in the air and scattering downwards. When a special wooden stake with a flag tied to it in the center of the minefield was also shrouded by the polluted chaotic wave aura, the second alarm sounded, and Sir Byron’s powerful voice echoed across the entire wall: "Enemy in position, prepare the catapults—launch!"

Accompanied by the "thump" sounds of the winches releasing, specially made small catapults began to operate. One by one, crystal bombs the size of human heads traced long arcs in the air, landing on the battlefield far away, shrouded in ominous black and red smoke and dust. In the next second, an unending series of even more astonishing explosions erupted across the battlefield. The grand flashes and thunderous flames seemed to rip apart that cloud of dust and smoke, stirring up storms of shrapnel and hot-air currents amidst the monster hordes.

"Retract the winches and continue launching!"

"Continue launching—Barto, retract the winches and continue launching!!"

The shouts of his comrades jolted Barto out of his daze. The knight from the Typhon Empire felt his heart pounding, his blood surging in his chest. He looked somewhat blankly at the distant plains being engulfed by explosions and flames, with only one thought in his mind: Is this the battlefield they face?

Barto instinctively carried out his actions. Operating the catapults wasn’t difficult, and for a knight of extraordinary strength, turning the winch was even less of a challenge. However, while subconsciously retracting the winch and resetting the crystal bombs, he felt his brain was somewhat out of control, a sense of numbness slowly creeping into his mind.

This was not like the battlefield he imagined! Nor like any battlefield he had experienced!

He was a Typhon elite, a knight battle-hardened through numerous skirmishes. He wasn’t some rookie, nor an inexperienced country militia. On the borderlines between Anzu and Typhon, he and his soldiers had faced various crises. Though the two nations had not formally declared war, their private skirmishes had escalated to sword-edge engagements. In those unofficial battlefields unrecognizable by either side, he had faced blades against him, and he had dispatched enemies by his own hands. But none of those battlefields were like this—

The warring sides were hundreds of meters apart, yet the battle had already begun. Blood and fire, thunder and explosions blanketed the entire battlefield, and those unknown monsters charged fearlessly amid the blasts, while the defending soldiers continually showered more thunder and explosions onto the enemy.

It wasn’t even time for the swords to be drawn yet.

Of course, in this world, there are combat Mages, who can create thunder, fire, and arcane bullets to attack enemies from afar during battles. But how many combat Mages are there on a battlefield? And how many times can a combat Mage cast such powerful spells?

Here, spells of the Flame Burst level can cover the entire battlefield!

Barto once imagined being pushed onto the city walls by the Anzu as part of the siege defense: standing behind him was the overseer team, while he and his Typhon comrades wielded swords at the front as a shield wall. Only by desperately swinging his sword could he avoid being beheaded by the overseer and gain a slim chance of survival on the battlefield. He never expected he’d be here operating catapults—and even less that the "stones" hurled by these catapults were such horrifying things!

Barto suddenly recalled the moment of panic when he accidentally dropped several "iron balls" onto the wall bricks while handling crystal bombs in the afternoon, and couldn’t help but break into a cold sweat.

He didn’t know these iron balls actually had quite a reliable safety mechanism. They were controlled by Rune Trigger, springs, and locking devices, not simply "explode on impact." Only by pulling out the copper pin on the iron ball before loading it into the Bomb Basket would they be capable of exploding, and only after enduring the strong impact from the catapult launching them to the ground would the trigger release and cause an explosion...

The second round of crystal bombs was launched by the catapults, causing a new round of explosions among the monsters. Meanwhile, those creatures had already crossed half of the battlefield with their powerful, inhuman bodies. Sometimes, sheer physical prowess defies logic: they lacked any command or tactics, yet they could advance relentlessly. When facing such enemies, humans could only rely on numbers, wisdom, and strength.

Soldrin drew back his longbow, a swirl of light green magical power forming at the bow’s front. The three arrows on the bowstring were infused with magical power, glowing with a crystalline gleam. As the bowstring released, the arrows flew with a piercing whistle, moments later blasting three monsters into countless fragments on the battlefield.

A High-Ranked Ranger’s single shot was no less powerful than a crystal bomb.

Soldrin paid no mind to the result of his shot; he continued in silence to draw arrows, ready his bow, and fire.

These monsters were just like those from seven hundred years ago, but it seemed his old friends had devised many new devices unlike anything from back then—the power of those exploding "stones" and traps was quite formidable. If middle-ranked or even powerful professionals were seriously targeted by these things, they might not survive. After this battle, perhaps he should seek out his old friends to inquire about how these impressive weapons work—but first he must hold his position and ensure the territory withstands this monster offensive.

The creatures’ advancing "bloodline edge" gradually began to blur, yet they continued to approach the city walls. After the second marker was covered by the enemy, a new command was relayed to the soldiers:

"Grenadiers, prepare—"

The soldiers on the wall promptly stepped forward upon receiving the order. Behind the parapets lay baskets full of crystal grenades. By now the initial tension and fear had become a numb routine; obeying orders was the soldiers’ deepest instinct, and they removed grenades, unlocking the safety, ready to throw at the command.

"Throw!"

Empowered by the height of the ten-meter wall, the grenades’ throwing range was greatly enhanced. Moments later, intense explosions enveloped the monsters that had luckily crossed the minefield and catapult bombing zone.

Gawain stood high upon the wall, watching as the monster wave dwindled and weakened under continuous firepower strikes. These aberrations hadn’t even gotten close enough to unleash corrosive energy arrows before being reduced to twenty percent of their numbers. Without a doubt, they would fall at the new city wall built on the territory.

Yet Gawain dared not relax his vigilance, because the "large entities" mentioned in reports hadn’t yet appeared on the battlefield. The attacking monsters were still only half the reported number.

He kept his eyes fixed on the center of the battlefield. At the edge of the catapult’s range, several notably conspicuous dark red clouds were agitating; hidden within were several massive figures. Behind these clouds, more aberrations were streaming out of the mountain path, forming a new offensive wave.

As the first wave of aberrations was wiped out by the grenadiers and dense Scorching Rays, the gigantic figures finally began to move.