Chapter 106: The plot was foiled

"Alright, we continue forward."

Phield had already checked the mini-map—there were indeed no signs of enemies. Felix’s knights, however, radiated hostility toward him.

After passing through the narrow mountain path, they could see the village halfway up the slope. A complete wooden defensive structure had been erected. Several corpses of allied soldiers were even hanging from ropes as a display of intimidation.

Rebel patrols moved back and forth within the stockade. Even from a distance, the rise and fall of long spears could be clearly seen.

Attacking uphill was already difficult, and with the village serving as fortification, it would normally be impossible to take.

Phield found a higher slope and surveyed the surroundings carefully before returning to the forest, where his troops temporarily concealed themselves.

"Attack already!" The supervising knight’s impatience grew more obvious as he kept urging them on. "If you delay the battle, you’ll be dragging down the entire allied army."

"Hmm." After a moment of contemplation, Phield feigned helplessness and addressed his troops. "This battle must be won. Failure is not an option, and retreat is forbidden. Sam, take men and gather all the chevaux-de-frise and barricades along the mountain road. Pile them at the exit at the foot of the mountain. Seal off our retreat completely."

"Yes, my lord." Sam answered solemnly.

"In this battle, we cut off our own escape. Besides, with the supervising officers watching us, no one should even think about falling back."

Phield glanced at the supervisors, who all revealed satisfied expressions.

"When we launch the attack later, I hope your forces won’t remain idling in the woods, but will assist us in reaching the stockade walls," Phield requested sincerely.

"Heh, I know what I’m doing." Felix was practically swollen with arrogance. "Cavalry, listen well—without my command, no one is to step out of the forest."

"You..."

Phield left speechless.

Once Sam and the others had sealed the retreat at the mountain’s base, Phield assembled his forces into formation and silently advanced toward Mountain Spring Village.

"Haha, this feels great. No matter how capable you are, you still have to wag your tail and beg me. Dismount—we’ll rest and enjoy the show."

Throughout history, allied forces had often been defeated by a single enemy largely because each faction harbored its own interests and agendas. It was human nature—unity was hard to achieve.

Phield hadn’t even gone far before laughter erupted behind him. Felix was laughing loudly.

"Laugh all you want. The one who’s about to be in real trouble isn’t me."

Phield glanced back with the gaze of a man looking at the dead. No one noticed that the greatsword usually strapped to his back was absent.

—

Inside the finest residence in Mountain Spring Village, Amastar of the Shadow World Sect sat beside a firepit, making strange gestures in prayer. A small goat was skewered over the flames, roasting.

"High Priest, all of our high-tier combatants have already departed. Shouldn’t we return to the fortress as well?" An elderly man in sect robes knelt before Amastar. "This place holds no more value."

"Praise the True God!"

Amastar did not respond directly. He simply raised both hands, concluding his prayer.

"Listen. Everything we have must be offered to the True God. Do not fear the enemy. The foolish allied forces have begun their counterattack. Sacrifice all the captured women first. Then drive the men forward to attack the allies."

"Sacrifice the women now?"

"I haven’t had enough fun yet, hahaha."

"You’ve been playing for a month and you’re still reluctant?"

Several fanatics laughed viciously.

"Wait... what’s that sound?"

As they spoke, noise suddenly erupted outside—shouting, screaming, wailing—an overwhelming cacophony.

Amastar, who had been about to carve meat with a knife, scowled and tossed it to the ground.

"Did those offerings escape again? I’ll see who was on watch and tear his bones apart."

As Amastar and the fanatics headed for the door, they collided with a soldier scrambling in, crawling and stumbling.

"This is bad, High Priest! The Imperial allied army has launched an attack!"

"Faster than expected. Then I’ll let them witness my magic. No—first, I’ll start with you."

Brushing dust from his robe—annoyed at being bumped—Amastar extended a skeletal arm from his sleeve and rapidly chanted a spell at the terrified soldier.

Crack—splatter!

The soldier convulsed violently as though possessed. His flesh suddenly exploded, and from the mangled remains rose a blood-drenched skeleton monster.

"Come. Let the allied army witness our power."

The surrounding soldiers, far from afraid, shouted excitedly at the sight.

Amastar pushed open the door and climbed onto the wooden wall, where he saw the well-disciplined First Army of Nightfall Domain.

"Heh. They look like Imperial elites. But with so few men, taking this place is wishful thinking."

Amastar was full of confidence.

"Do you want me to charge in directly?" Arlya asked when she saw Phield’s grim expression, mistaking it for pressure. "I’ve been eating your food these past days. As thanks, I’ll help you fight."

She resolutely avoided mentioning the contract.

"No need. Whether siege warfare or street fighting, these are trials my army must endure. Our vision cannot remain limited to the present. When the time comes, just help break open the gate—we don’t even have siege equipment."

"All units, advance in formation!"

Phield did not mount a horse. Instead, he stood on foot among his soldiers. At his command—

A hundred-man unit advanced slowly in shield-wall formation. Their long spears rose like a reed forest, some still stained with blood or entrails. Soldiers crouched behind shields, eyes locked forward.

"Volley fire!"

Rebels atop the wooden walls immediately loosed arrows. But their hunting bows and thin arrows were like a light drizzle—aside from leaving pale marks on the shields, they were useless.

Archers might be elite among soldiers, strong and fit—but the equipment gap was immense.

Soon, the First Army of Nightfall Domain reached the foot of the wall.

Rebels prepared barrels of boiling water and hefted stones to throw down.

"Crossbowmen, volley at the wall!"

Timing the moment when rebels exposed their upper bodies over the battlements, Phield decisively ordered the hidden crossbowmen to fire. Crossbows required almost no skill—if you had fingers and eyes, you could kill.

A dense series of mechanical twangs followed. A cloud of blood erupted atop the wooden wall. Over a dozen rebels dropped instantly, collapsing in disarray. Boiling water spilled onto their own comrades, causing chaos.

Seizing the opportunity, Phield roared, "Arlya—blast open the gate!"

"Dragon Roar—Flame Dragon’s Breath."

"Magic—Gale."

The reinforced wooden gate ignited instantly in raging flames. The next moment, an invisible whirlwind crashed against it, shattering the gate into splinters.

Rebels formed behind the gate were caught off guard, blasted apart and burned.

"What the hell?! What’s happening?!" Amastar was shocked. "Such powerful magic—damn it!"

"Fanatical believers of the True God of the Shadow World—hold the enemy!"

Amastar’s fanatics, clad in mismatched armor, raised their weapons and charged forward chanting incomprehensible scriptures.

"Blood sacrifice to the True God!"

The First Army of Nightfall Domain answered with an explosive roar, surging through the shattered gate.

"For the Baron—charge!"

Sam, shield in one hand and spiked mace in the other, burned with battle fervor. He locked eyes with the charging fanatic captain and, without hesitation, roared "Die!" and swung with all his brute strength.

The stockade was small, both sides numerous—there was no room to dodge. The fanatic gritted his teeth and raised his executioner’s axe to block.

Clang!

"Wah!"

In a single exchange, the wine-and-women-indulging fanatic felt overwhelming force crash into him. His arms went numb, palms split open, and his weapon was knocked flying. Before he could react, Sam smashed him down with his shield and followed with another crushing blow.

The fanatic’s head was smashed apart instantly, his mangled body twitching.

The soldiers of Nightfall Domain simply held shields before them and thrust wildly with their spears. No matter where they stabbed, rebels fell.

"Come forth, servants of the Evil God."

Seeing the crisis, Amastar forced out the last of his mana and created five more blood skeleton soldiers. "Kill them all—"

Before he could finish, a crossbow bolt shot straight into his forehead. The priest didn’t even have time to grunt before collapsing dead.

"Honestly. A mage daring to act so arrogantly—as if I couldn’t see you."

The mini-map had already marked the hostile first-tier mage.

Mages might possess devastating power—but they could still be killed by ordinary weapons.

Phield set aside the spent crossbow, transformed The Silver Iris Brooch into a longsword, and unleashed a radiant slash infused with holy light.

The blood skeletons looked terrifying, but they weren’t even first-tier creatures. They were shattered instantly by The Silver Iris Longsword, bones scattering across the ground.

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

"Long live Lord Phield!"

Inspired by Phield’s valor, the soldiers surged into Mountain Spring Village like a raging torrent, launching a brutal slaughter against the rebels.

From the distant forest, Felix gazed toward the boiling chaos of the village. The longer he watched, the more something felt wrong. The smile slowly vanished from his face.

Why isn’t this going according to the script?

Phield was supposed to be beaten back repeatedly by the cultists, suffer heavy casualties, and then kneel before him begging for mercy.

"My lord... uh, it looks like they’ve broken in," a knight said in astonishment.

"Could the intelligence have been wrong?"

Even Felix was bewildered.

"It doesn’t matter. We’ll launch our attack shortly as well and claim a share of the credit. No matter what happens, I won’t come out at a loss."

A knight asked timidly, "What if Phield tries to settle accounts with us?"

"What could he possibly do? Surround me with his soldiers?" Felix scoffed. "As long as even one soldier leaks the truth, his noble career will be finished. Besides, he’s no match for us."

Felix wasn’t worried in the slightest. He waved his hand. "Mount up. We move out. This battle was properly directed under my leadership—it’s time to take over."

"Hehe... and where do you think you’re going? This road is closed."

An elegant figure stepped out leisurely from the forest.