The Cornflower Witch

Book 2: Chapter 138: The Battle of Night

Vol 2 Chapter 138 The Battle of Night

Soldiers holding torches hurried through the forest, quickly crossing grassy fields and thickets to clear a path for the army behind them. The nighttime flames weaved between the trees, illuminating everything they touched.

As Anty soldiers stepped into a grove, a dense volley of bowstrings twanged, followed by the sounds of men falling, pierced by arrows.

"Raise shields, defend!"

A skilled knight galloped through the woods, shouting urgently. A faint, pale light curtain spread from beneath his feet, enveloping the surrounding soldiers.

The Aspect of 'Castle,' the School of Royal Authority. Chess piece-like phantom images appeared above the soldiers' heads. This was a temporary blessing granted by the knight to his troops, temporarily elevating their rank to face the imminent battle.

When the second wave of arrows struck, they were first slowed and hindered by the pale Veil, then deflected by the shields the soldiers raised, producing crisp clanging sounds before falling to the ground. Even the few unfortunate soldiers who were hit only suffered shallow wounds, nothing serious.

Seeing this, the Anty elites' morale surged. They once again accelerated their charge toward the target location.

The personnel supporting Prince Jabers in Trident Forest had nowhere left to retreat. At this moment, they were forced to engage.

Under the cover of the arrow rain, they charged into the battlefield, clashing head-on with the attacking Anty soldiers.The sounds of clashing swords and blades rang out in the fire-lit forest. Those who still followed Prince Jabers to this day were die-hard loyalists of the royal family, the last remaining elite forces left from Regas.

Under their resistance, the Anty army actually couldn't break through quickly and was temporarily held back in the forest.

This outcome surprised many of the accompanying officers, but fortunately, they had also prepared for this.

"It's your turn. This is your chance to wash away your crimes!" A high-ranking officer drew his saber and barked harshly at the cowering figures behind him.

"We..." These people looked at each other, still hesitant.

They were originally the prominent figures of Valley City. Where had they ever experienced real life-or-death combat? Furthermore, the opposing army was Prince Jabers' personal guard, their former allies. Now, raising blades against them put immense psychological pressure on many.

Seeing none of them wanted to move, the officer sneered coldly, then signaled the soldiers beside him to surround these people.

"I'll count to ten. Anyone who doesn't step forward to fight will be treated as a deserter and executed without mercy!"

"Yes, sir!" The monitoring soldiers raised their spears one by one, aiming at the people within the encirclement.

Under such heavy pressure, the prominent figures grew anxious and uneasy. Some still clung to hope and did not act.

"Ten, nine... five, four, three, two, one." By this point, only a small portion had rushed out to join the fight. More remained in place, unmoving.

Shaking his head at this, the officer remarked, "How foolish."

"Open fire!"

The twang of crossbows sounded from behind the encircling soldiers, followed by bolts shooting into the crowd, turning the hesitant prominent figures into human pincushions.

After the outer ring died, those inside were violently stimulated by the deaths. They urgently shouted loudly and began rushing outward, toward the gap the officer had intentionally left.

Seeing they were finally acting, the officer waved his hand. The sound of crossbow fire ceased.

The prominent figures of Valley City began engaging Jabers' guards. Although most had never been on a battlefield, they had excellent equipment for self-preservation before this expedition, had mostly received military training, and had abundant resources, making them much stronger than ordinary people.

Seeing the Valley City prominent figures who had rebelled against him once again, Prince Jabers was furious. He viciously whipped the stone in front of him with his riding crop, gritting his teeth as he spoke, "I should have known long ago these guys were unreliable."

Unfortunately, there were no 'ifs' in battle. Facing enemies several times their number, Prince Jabers' guards began falling one by one, though the Valley City prominent figures also suffered many casualties.

In the rear, Carkis sat on his horse, silently watching the brightly lit battlefield in the distance through a telescope, then gave orders to the messenger rider beside him.

If he led a large number of knights into the fray and participated in the front-line battle, victory would surely come quickly, but he had no intention of doing so.

'You must live well, Prince Jabers,' he thought, the corner of his mouth curling upward.

On the front lines of the battlefield, many of Prince Jabers' guards died at the hands of those Valley City prominent figures. The encirclement continuously tightened. Retreating further now would mean falling back to where the Hundred-Eyes Sect was conducting their ritual.

"Are they not ready yet?" Seeing that the Hundred-Eyes Sect members still hadn't appeared or taken action, Prince Jabers was both shocked and enraged.

But at this moment, he had no spare energy for blame or curses.

The leading Anty soldiers had already charged to his front. They wore simple chainmail tunics, holding shields in one hand and standard-issue longswords in the other, hacking through the blocking obstacles along the way, constantly shouting.

"Prince Jabers is here!"

"Prince Jabers is right ahead!"

"Kill him and be granted a noble title!"

"Kill!"

Such voices rose and fell among the trees, filling Jabers' heart with both alarm and fear. His gaze swept around somewhat frantically. He drew his longsword and gripped it, his feet slowly shuffling backward.

The last few loyal soldiers surrounded him, raising their shields, constantly retreating while blocking the incoming crossbow bolts and arrows.

At this moment, a messenger rider from the rear arrived, whispering a few words into the ear of the officer commanding the vanguard. The officer's expression turned peculiar. He waved his hand, ordering the Anty soldiers to halt for now, then commanded the Valley City prominent figures to step forward.

"You go. Capture Prince Jabers!"

"This..."

"Yes." Although hesitant, they also knew they had no choice left.

Since they had already acted, already engaged Prince Jabers' forces, they might as well take this prince's head and seek some reward from the Anty people. Perhaps they, too, could become nobles of the Ante Kingdom.

With this mindset, the Valley City prominent figures stepped forward, gradually surrounding Prince Jabers in a semicircle, pressing closer step by step.

Facing these traitors, Prince Jabers was so angry he almost laughed. The faint terror rising in his heart was forcibly suppressed.

"You despicable scoundrels are destined to be welcomed by no one!" For once, this prince uttered a firm, proud statement that made his men feel a flicker of pride.

Though Prince Jabers was incompetent, losing battle after battle, at least he hadn't groveled like a dog and surrendered to the enemy. But these Valley City prominent figures before him had completely abandoned their former glory and oaths, serving as cannon fodder for the Anty people, slaughtering their former allies.

Facing the accusation, these Valley City prominent figures felt they were in an impossible position. But there was no way out now. They could only grit their teeth and press on, hoping to quickly finish off this prince and shut him up.

As long as everyone in this camp died tonight, no one would know of their disgrace.

Driven by this sentiment, they began fighting fiercely, striving to kill the heavily protected prince.

At this moment, the scene of clashing blades and spraying blood drew closer and closer to Prince Jabers. His legs began to tremble.

"Jabers!" A familiar voice came from behind Jabers. It was Princess Mursa's voice.

This golden-haired princess in a black dress, ignoring her subordinates' attempts to stop her, rushed to Prince Jabers' side, embraced him, then turned her head.

"Please, everyone, do not give up. I know this is difficult, but this is also the last bloodline and hope of Regas." She lifted her skirt, deeply bowing, then tightly gripped Jabers' fingers, standing in front of him to shield her younger brother, steadying his resolve, and sheltering him from the storm one last time.

"Sister..." Jabers' eyes widened slightly in a daze. His figure was temporarily shielded by Princess Mursa, sparing him from facing the ferocious rebel army ahead.

A long-lost sense of security rose in his heart, bringing with it a twinge of shame—an emotion he rarely felt, but today was different.

At the rear of the camp, the pillar of light from the ritual finally dissipated. Just as Princess Mursa watched the approaching rebel army with a rapidly beating heart, utterly tense, those Hundred-Eyes Sect members finally emerged from the Magic Arrays in the woods behind.

Under the command of these dark-red-robed sect members, streaks of purplish-red rays shot through the forest, killing the enemies who had stepped into the camp, piercing them through.

The battlefield situation changed drastically in an instant. At this moment, the Valley City prominent figures charging at the front died in large numbers. The survivors no longer had the courage to face those evil, otherworldly Monsters. They screamed and fled in retreat.

The Anty officer now had no mind to punish these fleeing Valley City figures. Instead, he frowned deeply, ordering his adjutant beside him to blow a special horn.

The low, mournful sound of the horn was particularly conspicuous in the night, spreading continuously.

Upon receiving the signal, the cavalry contingent holding position in the rear began to move. They advanced along the cleared passage, continuously accelerating. Their galloping figures connected into a single mass. Then, the knight at the forefront raised his lance high. A sharp, triangular spearhead-like Veil expanded, an invisible blessing descending upon every cavalryman. They were all clad in silver armor, their lances blazing like fire.

Like a shimmering silver dragon splitting the pitch-black, deep night, they plunged into the very front line of the battlefield.