Carlos Smashed Axe, from the Smashed Axe tribe, was the chieftain's own son.
However, on that day, Titus's battle-axe split his father's helmet, and blood splattered three feet high.
Carlos roared and lunged forward, but in the next instant, the whispers of the Rage-Burning Thorns Garden drilled into his ears.
They directly modified the anger in his heart, turning the hatred for his father's death into a pool of stagnant water.
By the time he looked up again, his enemy had become his master, and his foe had become his faith.
Thereafter, he followed Titus with renewed loyalty, personally chosen by him as a new elite under his command.
But this time, when the military order sent him to the Southeast, his heart was full of disdain.
The main force was locked in a bloody battle with the tough bones of the Empire's northern border, yet he was sent to attack a desolate place?
The Southeast defense line? In his opinion, those °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° were just some remote ridges and valleys, guarded by the Empire's most peripheral ragtag troops. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓
Even if there were a few knights, they couldn't stop the vanguard of his five thousand elites.
This was not a battle of honor, but a waste of his opportunity to achieve merit on the main battlefield.
During the several days southward from Ice Sea County, his contempt was confirmed.
His army, like wolves crushing snow rabbits, easily routed the scattered imperial garrisons along the way in Ice Sea County.
Those soldiers didn't even have time to blow their horns before they were engulfed by axe blades and spears in the snow.
The victory was so simple it made him feel bored.
When he stood at the entrance of Qingyu Ridge Valley and saw the towering snow cliffs on both sides, the contempt in his heart deepened.
This was a narrow valley sandwiched between two mountains, its entrance shrouded in morning mist, as white as a clump of lifeless animal fur.
Carlos reined in his mount and looked up, surveying the scene.
The mountain walls on both sides were silent, with no beacon fires and no scout riders.
He chuckled, his judgment in his heart growing firmer: What a foolish prey, such a good ambush spot was left unguarded.
Once he led his army into it, the entire Southeast of the Northern Territory would be under his feet.
And he was completely unaware that behind the mountain mist, a pair of indifferent eyes had been waiting for days.
The cold wind of Qingyu Ridge, carrying snowflakes, lashed at his face like invisible blades.
Louis stood at a vantage point in the canyon, concealed by rock walls and accumulated snow, with rows of knights silently awaiting orders behind him.
Hoofbeats approached from afar, and a knight on a swift horse charged up to the valley entrance, his armor stained with fresh snow mist.
He dismounted, knelt on one knee, and said, “Lord Louis, the enemy vanguard has entered the northern canyon!”
Louis's gaze sharpened, and he reached out to take the binoculars handed to him by his adjutant, slowly raising them.
The distant snow mist was pushed aside by a heavy aura, and the enemy's vanguard finally appeared.
The first to enter his sight were a group of heavily armored magical beasts wrapped in vines.
They were enormous, their backs covered with grayish-green and iron-colored plant scales, and moist crimson mist seeped from the gaps between the scales, slowly pulsating as if breathing.
These giant beasts moved on multiple legs, each step creating knee-deep sinkholes in the accumulated snow.
The crimson mist exhaled carried a pungent odor, and where the mist passed, the air emitted a low, unnatural muffled sound.
On the other side of the mist, the figures of the Northern Barbarian Knights emerged.
They rode various strangely mutated mounts, and on the shoulder plates of every knight was branded a floral crown, their thick, heavy armor glinting in the crimson mist, their eyes burning with fanaticism.
Then, from the depths of the snow mist, came a thunderous roar!
Dozens of Frost Giants stepped down from the northern slope, each step causing the snow cliff to tremble slightly.
They wielded massive hammers capable of shattering city gates, or dragged chains wrapped with iron hooks.
The cold air they exhaled instantly crystallized in the air, turning into fine ice shards that fell.
The heavy thud of hooves, the friction of iron chains, and the low growls of exotic beasts intertwined, like a torrent about to surge from the ground.
For anyone else, this sheer momentum alone would be enough to shake their resolve.
But Louis merely lowered his binoculars, narrowed his eyes, and said calmly, “They’re here. To your positions. Act immediately upon the signal.”
Above the snow cliff, the ambushing ballistae, oil tanks, and rockslide mechanisms were already poised.
The cold wind swept through, and the battle line was so quiet that only the faint sound of ice and snow rubbing could be heard. The entire Qingyu Ridge held its breath, waiting for that single command.
No one believed that the barbarian vanguard would cross this snow-blocked mountain path today.
And no one expected Louis to set an ambush here, after all, no one knew about the Daily Intelligence System's existence except for him.
The crimson mist rolled forward, obscuring the cliff walls on both sides. As it advanced to the middle section of the canyon entrance, the snow suddenly appeared somewhat different.
The snow in certain areas was thin and hard, with an unusual sheen underfoot, as if it had been doused with hot water and then frozen into a brittle ice crust.
Occasionally, a hollow “thump-thump” sound came from under their hooves, as if they were stepping on buried cavities.
But the war drums and beast roars echoed in the crimson mist, and those sounds were drowned in the din, almost unnoticed by anyone.
The nostrils of the front-row giant beasts twitched slightly, catching a faint scent of grease.
However, they were enveloped by the anger and crimson mist stimulation instilled before the battle, and the warning from their sense of smell was quickly suppressed, becoming a faint hallucination that no one paid attention to.
Snow mist, crimson mist, war drum beats.
In Carlos's eyes, this was merely an overwhelming advance.
As the barbarian forces partially entered the canyon, Louis stood on a hidden high point at the entrance of Qingyu Ridge Valley, and with a gentle flick of his finger, the crisp snapping sound was quickly swallowed by the snow mist, yet it was precisely transmitted.
A waiting knight raised a war horn to his lips, and the horn's hoarse, low sound pierced through the crimson mist and wind-blown snow, like a summons from the abyss.
The long-planned ambush thus began.
Carlos was riding on a massive magical beast, his gaze sweeping back and forth through the crimson mist and snow shadows.
“Boom—!” A sudden, unfamiliar war horn sounded, and his brows furrowed sharply, a feeling like an ice needle piercing his heart.
Before he could even give an order, the ground beneath his feet emitted a low hum that set one's teeth on edge.
Immediately, the surface of the earth suddenly cracked open with fine fissures, and blazing light erupted from beneath the snow layer.
The burning oil barricades ignited, and in the next instant, they transformed into surging fire snakes, racing along the already dug trenches, slicing the already chaotic barbarian army into several sections.
The flames were not caused by mere lamp oil, but by the infernal flames mixed with Fire Scale paste and Flint Marrow oil.
Viscous, greedy, and unquenchable.
The heavily armored magical beasts bore the brunt, their plant scales on their backs appearing as if doused with boiling water under the high temperature, their sap boiling and overflowing, transforming into pungent white mist that steamed upwards.
The thorns in the gaps of their scales were forced to crackle and burst by the heat wave.
“Bang!”
The overflowing viscous sap immediately ignited, emitting a short, sharp sound.
These vines and plant scales originally had extremely strong heat resistance, and ordinary flames were nothing to fear.
However, Louis's custom-made Fire Scale paste and Flint Marrow oil had an adhesive strength far superior to common fuels.
Once ignited, they would stick firmly to the scales and vines, and no matter how the magical beasts rolled or thrashed, the flames would cling like greedy venomous snakes, refusing to let go.
The temperature was so high that it could distort and vibrate the air.
Those originally strangely tough vines were utterly helpless under such intense heat, their outer skin rapidly drying and shriveling.
The tongues of fire then climbed along the vines, then exploded with a “snap,” splashing out boiling green sap, which instantly turned into sizzling ignition points upon landing.
And the fat buried behind the vines was forced by the high temperature, constantly swelling and rupturing.
“Bang! Bang! Bang!”
Each explosion was accompanied by a short, sharp bursting sound, turning the seams of the magical beast's scales into flaming fissures.
One giant beast howled miserably, half of its head blown into flesh and charred bone by the oil fire explosion, its shattered jawbone hitting the chest of a cavalryman behind with a “thud.”
The high-temperature flames lashed at the barbarian warriors' faces and armor, instantly igniting their hair and clothing.
The knights let out agonizing screams, their voices swallowed by the roar of war drums, crimson mist, and flames, as if crying from the depths of hell.
Not just one, some low-intelligence magical beasts had already been driven mad by the firelight, their eyes filled with despair. They retreated uncontrollably, charging wildly, emitting low, distorted roars mixed with agonizing screams, as if begging the earth for mercy.
Their massive bodies charged frantically, pushing over and crushing the cavalry and mounts that followed closely behind them.
Carlos's battle qi protected him, so these flames couldn't harm him, but his breathing was choked by the scorching and pungent air, and his chest felt a dull pain as if filled with flames.
“Ahhh!” He suddenly raised his battle-axe, roaring hoarsely.
However, what answered him was only the echoing “hum—” of the heat wave vibrating in the canyon, and the hellish curtain formed by the intertwining of crimson mist and raging flames.
“How could there be an ambush!?” Anger and unease surged simultaneously in Carlos's heart. “Was it an intelligence leak? No, impossible! No one could have known!”
But his remaining rationality and battlefield intuition led him to make a decision: “All troops, advance!”
However, as the vanguard just stepped into the open ground, reddened by the firelight.
“Boom!!! —Rumble rumble!!!”
Muffled Magic Bombs were triggered deep underground, their explosions roaring like giant beasts in the canyon, bringing with them a tidal wave of shockwaves.
“Crack—!!!”
Countless sounds of shattering and bursting followed, the air was completely torn apart, and the shockwave, like an invisible torrent, instantly ripped apart the vine armor and scales of the heavy armored magical beasts and cavalry.
Shredded flesh and armor fragments were scorched black by the high temperature, shooting back towards the rear army with a whistling sound in the air current.
They splattered onto the snow, raising plumes of rolling white mist and a pungent charred smell.
A Frost Giant roared, leaning forward, trying to avoid the flames, but the blast pushed it like a landslide, making it stumble. frёewebηovel.cѳm
The protective vines and ice continuously cracked and peeled off under the high-temperature impact, revealing the grayish-blue, cracked flesh beneath.
Dark blue giant's blood was forced out, gushing from the cracked flesh like boiling ink.
It landed on the snow with a sharp “sizzle,” instantly turning into a pungent white mist.
That colossal body lost its balance in the blast and flames, collapsing with a crash.
Several tons of weight crushed the magical beasts and knights behind, like a falling rock causing a cliff collapse.
Armor was pulverized, bones made crisp “crack, crack” sounds under the immense pressure, and blood flowed in winding rivulets along the snow trenches,
glowing red from the firelight.
From his high vantage point, Louis watched this hellish scene through the rolling crimson mist, a slight smile on his lips, with not a trace of pity in his eyes.
“It's like the gates of hell have opened—” he murmured softly, as if enjoying a feast.
Immediately after, he sharply raised his hand and commanded, “Ranged firepower, suppress!”
“Whizz—swoosh swoosh swoosh!”
The ballistae on the high ground emitted a dull, low string hum, their bow arms trembling slightly as they recoiled.
Thick, long armor-piercing bolts, trailing blazing tail flames, whistled down like a meteor shower tearing through a crimson sky.
Firelight drew streaks of incandescent white through the crimson mist, instantly disappearing into the enemy formation.
“Boom!”
The first Magic Bomb bolt pierced the forehead of a heavily armored magical beast, exploding with flames behind its head, scattering bone fragments and blood.
The subsequent bolts rained down, embedding into armor seams, piercing through chests, tearing the enemy's ranks to shreds.
“Boom! Boom! Boom!”
Several Magic Bombs fell in succession, their shockwaves making the snow ground surge like a stormy sea.
Flames and shattered rocks, mixed with whistling air currents, impacted the enemies' faceplates, making eardrums ache.
Warriors at the blast points were directly thrown into the air, landing as charred remains.
Nearby magical beasts were blasted off their feet, their heavy bodies spinning in the air before falling into a mire of blood and snow.
Explosions, screams, and the sound of shattering metal mingled together, like a hellish symphony echoing through the canyon, obliterating the cavalry and magical beasts attempting to break through in the flames.
If everything had gone according to Louis's plan, these heavily armored magical beasts would have been buried in this valley, consumed by the flames and crossbow bolts.
However, an unexpected turn of events occurred.
The first fallen magical beast brought forth an unforeseen change.
Its massive body was engulfed by raging fire, its scales and vines carbonized and peeled away, and it should have remained still in the smoke.
However, from the cracked wounds, a cluster of bizarre red flowers suddenly bloomed, their flames having the texture of flesh, scarlet and moist.
In the next instant, the red flowers exploded, spewing out rolling red mist.
The mist was so thick it looked like boiled blood, mixed with a sweet, decaying scent, and instantly enveloped the surrounding barbarian soldiers.
A heart-wrenching roar echoed in the mist. Several barbarian soldiers, riddled with arrows and on the verge of collapsing, suddenly straightened up.
Their muscles swelled as if inflated, their blood vessels creeping like earthworms, and vines grew wildly from their wounds and armor seams, coiling around their entire bodies, transforming into a second layer of living armor.
The battlefield began to grow.
Every corpse became a seeding point; charred bodies split open, blooming with blood-red flowers, and the flower centers spewed out more vines and red mist.
Red light and mist intertwined into a rolling canopy, transforming the entire valley entrance into a pulsating, living abyss.
Those barbarian knights, infected by the red mist, not only stood up in the raging flames but also seemed to be infused with a kind of frenzied power.
Flames danced on their armor and vines, unable to burn them away or deter them.
Their eyes were hollow and blazing, their breathing interspersed with beastly growls, and their figures blurred with speed.
They began to climb and approach along the gaps in the fire line and the shadows of the valley walls, their target precisely the hidden archers on the high ground.
The light of the flames, instead, illuminated their smiles.
On the high ground, Louis, looking through his binoculars, felt a chilling sensation wash over him, and it was not from the wind and snow.
This was not a group of warriors; this was a pack of hunting beasts fed by anger and death.