Harold's face twisted in sudden confusion. The sudden appearance of mounted archers was an unexpected shock. When he first observed Fenris’s formation, there hadn’t been a single soldier carrying a bow. The idea that Fenris could have developed collapsible bows from some new material was beyond belief. The spearmen facing them were equally stunned. The heavy infantry with shields had all been positioned to defend the flanks, leaving no one capable of protecting against arrows. Desmond’s commanders and soldiers could only watch in stunned silence as the mounted archers drew their bowstrings. Creak... Lumina, aiming at the Desmond forces with her bow fully drawn, held her breath for a moment. “I can do this.” Even now, her mind was racing. Despite her relentless training since first mounting a horse, this was her first time experiencing an actual battlefield. And she wasn’t the only one. The elves, who had partially awakened their connection to nature, could sense the oppressive and gruesome aura of the battlefield. A tingling sensation ran through their bodies. Staying in such a place went against every instinct ingrained in their nature as elves. “But I have to.” There was no retreat. Even though some elves had reclaimed their connection to nature, those who had lived among humans for so long had adapted to human ways of thinking. They knew exactly how humans survived. “Kill or be killed.” Hesitation would only lead to greater sacrifices. Even the elves who followed their instincts understood the importance of defending their territories. And right now, their territory was Fenris. Whether or not the lord of Fenris would keep his promises in the future didn’t matter. At this moment, they had no choice but to stand with him. “World Tree, bless Fenris.” With her resolve set, Lumina released her bowstring. Thwang. Her shot signaled the others. All the elves and mounted archers released their bowstrings in unison. Fwoooosh! Thousands of arrows rained down on Desmond’s forces like a storm. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! “Aaargh!” The heavy infantry stationed on the flanks raised their shields to block the arrows, but the soldiers in the center were not so fortunate. The front-line spearmen collapsed helplessly, and the soldiers behind them fell one by one under the relentless barrage. The mounted archers, having fired their arrows, immediately turned their horses and began to retreat, circling back to their original positions. Their movements followed the exact training drills that Ghislain had taught them. Harold’s face contorted in anger as he bellowed. “Chase them!” Nothing was as vulnerable as mounted archers showing their backs. Desmond’s cavalry was already moving to flank the enemy. Despite the painful losses, if they could wipe out the mounted archers, it would be a worthwhile trade. Harold’s eyes scanned the battlefield with urgency. Thud, thud, thud, thud! Fenris’s cavalry, who had pulled back earlier, passed by the pursuing Desmond cavalry as if brushing past them. It was clear they were circling around to target the flanks and rear of Desmond’s formation. “Shields! Form up!” Clang! Clang! Clang! The heavy infantry stationed on the flanks moved swiftly, forming a wall of shields. While the 2,000 mounted archers were circling back to their original positions, it would not be easy for the remaining cavalry to break through the layered defenses of shields. Instead, Fenris’s cavalry began circling Desmond’s formation without directly engaging them. Meanwhile, Desmond’s cavalry charged with all their might, determined to catch and eliminate the mounted archers before they could regroup. Thud, thud, thud, thud! The speed of Fenris’s mounted archers made them difficult to catch. Even so, the pursuing Desmond cavalry gritted their teeth and steadily closed the distance. Just as they were about to close in, Lumina abruptly turned, drawing her bowstring as she aimed behind her. Instantly, all the mounted archers followed her lead, turning to fire backward. “What in the...?” The eyes of the pursuing Desmond cavalrymen widened in disbelief. The mounted archers, riding at full gallop, had released their reins, steadied themselves with their legs, and were now firing backward. All 2,000 of them. The earlier volley had seemed like a desperate, clumsy attempt to deal damage. But this was different. “This is insane. Mounted archery requires years of training in both horsemanship and archery. How are they all this skilled...?” Their movements were fluid, as if the horses themselves were adjusting to keep their riders balanced. Before he could think further, before he could even raise his small shield, his vision was overwhelmed by a dark storm of arrows. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! “Aaaaagh!” Neighhh! Screams and the cries of horses filled the air as Desmond’s cavalry began to collapse. Galloping at full speed, they couldn’t dodge or block the arrows in time. Only knights clad in full armor and their armored horses withstood the barrage. The rest of the soldiers fell helplessly. “No! This can’t be happening!” Crash! Bang! Bang! The sudden attack caused the leading cavalry to tumble, and those behind collided into them in chaos. Even amidst the confusion, the arrows kept raining down. The pursuing Desmond cavalry crumbled like dry leaves. Harold, watching the scene, ground his teeth in frustration. "How... how does that bastard already have such a powerful force...?" The sheer number of mounted archers was inconceivable. For a fledgling territory like Fenris, producing such a large-scale unit of mounted archers was supposed to be impossible. Training them required not only a tremendous amount of time but also immense financial resources—resources that caused most lords to abandon the idea of maintaining mounted archers altogether. Aside from their occasional use in small reconnaissance units, mounted archers had long disappeared from the battlefield. Harold had dismissed the possibility of Fenris developing such a unit. If he had known that Fenris possessed this many mounted archers, his strategies would have been entirely different. "That bastard... just what has he been doing all this time...?" Over 100 knights, equipment made from advanced new materials, a 6th-circle mage, and more than 2,000 mounted archers—each aspect of Fenris's force unfolded before his eyes like a cruel spectacle. Thud, thud, thud, thud! Fenris's cavalry, who had been circling the heavy infantry, suddenly changed direction, starting to move away. At the same time, the mounted archers who had been retreating looped back, closing in on the flanks of Desmond’s forces as if preparing to encircle them. Harold, watching this with growing alarm, shouted as loud as he could. "Shields! Protect the troops!" The moment his command rang out, the mounted archers unleashed another volley of arrows, targeting Desmond’s flanks. Fwooosh! "Aaaaagh!" "Fight back! Return fire!" "Hold your shields!" No matter how well the heavy infantry used their shields, there was no way to block the rain of thousands of arrows that blanketed the sky. Inside the formation, spearmen and archers fell helplessly, unable to defend themselves. "Fire! Fire back, damn it!" Desmond’s archers attempted suppressive fire, but their efforts were in vain. Fenris’s mounted archers moved swiftly, dodging incoming arrows while continuing their relentless harassment of Desmond’s flanks. From the perspective of Desmond’s forces, the attacks seemed utterly unfair, a maddeningly effective tactic that left them no room to respond. "Hold the line! Don’t let them break through!" The commanders' desperate shouts echoed across the battlefield, but the heavy infantry struggled to regain their composure. The ceaseless barrage of arrows made it impossible to assess the battlefield clearly. While they were relatively safe behind their large shields, their unprotected allies were falling all around them. Having made no preparations to counter mounted archers, Desmond's forces were being led around helplessly, unable to mount an effective response. Thud, thud, thud, thud! The relentless circling of Fenris’s mounted archers continued, their overwhelming mobility and precision devastating Desmond’s troops at every turn. The battlefield was rapidly slipping out of Harold’s control, and the chaos only deepened as the arrows kept raining down. Harold’s bloodshot eyes darted toward the relentless circling of Fenris’s mounted archers, and he bellowed with fury: “Pull back the left and right wings immediately! Hurry!” If this continued, his forces would be led around helplessly, only to collapse entirely. The units engaged with the Kingdom Army and Ferdium forces needed to return and chase down the mounted archers. Bwooooooo! The loud blare of a war horn echoed across the battlefield, signaling the Desmond troops fighting the Kingdom Army and Ferdium to regroup. Hearing the horn, Emerson, the commander of the cavalry unit fighting the Kingdom forces, bit his lip. “Just a little more, and we could have broken through...” Emerson’s cavalry had already pushed the Capital Nobles’ Alliance forces to the brink, nearly routing them. The mixed formation of the 3rd Legion and the noble militias was poorly trained and uncoordinated. They had fallen easily to Emerson’s strategy of targeting their weak spots. “It’s the mounted archers, isn’t it?” Emerson quickly pieced together the situation. Mounted archers were an almost insurmountable threat without prior preparation. Infantry couldn’t match their mobility, and countering them required a combination of archers and cavalry. However, the enemy’s advanced armor made even that difficult. The armored infantry on Emerson’s side were holding their ground for now, but at this rate, they would be slowly whittled away. Most of the cavalry was already under his command. The only solution was to disrupt the mounted archers’ movements by striking at their route, breaking their flow, and restoring the momentum of his infantry. “Infantry, pull back slowly while continuing to engage the Kingdom Army! Cavalry, follow me!” Emerson’s forces began a calculated retreat, carefully changing their direction. Watching from a distance, Iderian Viscount, the commander of the Capital Nobles’ Alliance forces, let out a deep sigh of relief. “Damn, I thought we were done for. How are they fighting so damn well? Since they’re pulling back, let’s step back too.” Having joined the battle more for financial interests than loyalty, Iderian Viscount had nearly lost his life in the process. Resolving to never involve himself in the Count of Fenris’s affairs again, he quietly vowed to keep his distance in the future. Meanwhile, the 3rd Legion stood firm. As a seasoned and disciplined military unit, they had successfully withstood the onslaught. Clifton Viscount, the commander of the 3rd Legion, observed Emerson’s withdrawal and made a different decision than Iderian. Seeing the shift in Desmond’s forces, he realized that the center was in trouble. "This is our chance! Push forward! Now’s the time! Move, quickly!" "Waaaargh!" As the 3rd Legion began to advance, Iderian Viscount hesitated. Retreating entirely wasn’t an option anymore. If the battle was lost, he’d be slaughtered along with everyone else. It wasn’t as if the terrifying Count Desmond would spare him just because he had withdrawn. On the off chance their side won, he’d be criticized heavily for hanging back. "Uh... Fine, let’s push forward too!" With Desmond’s cavalry drawn away, their forces were now severely undermanned, gradually losing ground to the Kingdom Army. Emerson recognized the situation but could only redirect his troops to aid the central battlefield. While Emerson successfully maneuvered his forces, Garen Viscount, who was engaged against Ferdium, found himself in a much graver predicament. "Damn it! Ferdium is fighting this well?" The knights and soldiers of Ferdium were relentlessly pressing the Desmond forces, driving them back with overwhelming force. Despite their numerical superiority, Desmond’s troops could barely manage to hold the line. "Waaaargh!" It wasn’t just their physical strength—their morale was extraordinary. Ferdium’s soldiers roared without ceasing, their voices reverberating across the battlefield. They seemed unstoppable, their energy boundless. "Hold the line! Stand firm!" Boom! Crash! "Aaaagh!" Though small in number, Ferdium’s knights displayed the skill and power of mid-level knights or higher. These were warriors who had trained under Ghislain and mastered his new mana cultivation techniques. When they unleashed their full strength, the resulting destructive force was monstrous. At the front of the charge, Zvalter swung his sword with unwavering determination, shouting: "Don’t hold back! We need to break through here to complete the encirclement!" Zvalter, perpetually anxious, was even more so now. Although Ghislain’s central forces were holding their ground, they were severely outnumbered. Any mistake could lead to them being surrounded and wiped out. Desperate to relieve the pressure on Ghislain’s forces, Zvalter was determined to break through as quickly as possible. Following his orders, Ferdium’s knights and soldiers threw everything into the fight, swinging their weapons with relentless ferocity. On another flank, Randolph led his troops in stark contrast to Zvalter’s tense demeanor. He fought with unrestrained excitement, his laughter ringing out amidst the chaos. "Hahaha! Can you believe it? We're fighting this well? We've become this strong!" Randolph roared with laughter, his voice filled with exhilaration. What was once unimaginable had become reality—they were overwhelming far more enemies than he could have ever anticipated. Years spent stationed at the northern fortress had made them underestimate their own strength. Thanks to Ghislain's rigorous training and guidance, their forces had transformed into a fighting unit capable of challenging even Desmond’s army, the so-called strongest in the north. Nearby, Skovan, a soldier who was typically reluctant to engage in battle, muttered to himself as he slashed through the enemy ranks. "Wow, this is actually happening? How did we get this strong?" There was a time when the mere mention of Desmond’s army would have sent shivers down their spines. Now, they weren’t just holding their ground—they were actively pushing back a larger force. The grueling training that had pushed them to their limits had not betrayed them. The strength forged through relentless drills and discipline was now proving effective not only against raiding barbarians but against Desmond’s elite troops as well. Ferdium’s surprising strength left Garen Viscount with no choice but to stay engaged. Despite commanding more troops, he could barely hold the line. If he attempted to withdraw even a portion of his forces, the enemy’s assault would quickly breach his defenses, leading to a catastrophic collapse. "Damn it... How is Ferdium, of all places, fighting like this...?" Garen’s face contorted with disbelief and frustration. Although he had known that Ferdium’s forces had experience dealing with northern raiders, he had dismissed them as insignificant. To now be overwhelmed by the very forces he had so thoroughly underestimated filled him with an unbearable mix of humiliation and rage. Unable to retreat, Garen’s forces remained locked in place. As a result, Harold was left with only a portion of Emerson’s troops to respond to the crisis at the center. Watching this unfold, Harold clenched his teeth and shouted: "Hold out just a little longer! Reinforcements are coming!" Although it was unfortunate that Garen couldn’t join the battle, Emerson’s arrival alone would be enough to disrupt the mounted archers’ movements. That would buy Harold the breathing room he needed to regroup his troops, restore the line, and turn the tide with a counter-encirclement. As Harold scanned the battlefield, his heart plummeted. "Damn it!" The front line was completely exposed. The formation of spearmen had collapsed entirely, and those who remained had retreated behind the heavy infantry’s shields for protection. While the soldiers’ attention was fixated on the flanking mounted archers, Fenris’s cavalry, who had circled around, now thundered toward the exposed front of Desmond’s formation. Thud, thud, thud, thud! The pounding of hooves grew deafening as the Fenris cavalry closed in. Ghislain, leading the charge, wore a savage smile as his crimson eyes burned with intensity. "We’re breaking through," he growled. His spear, glowing with a deep red hue, flared even brighter, the fiery energy radiating off it like an inferno. Zzzzing—! Behind him, the knights’ armor began to glow with radiant light, their presence an overwhelming force of fear and power. The Fenris cavalry and the labor strike corps tightened their grips on their spears, locking them between their shoulders and arms as they prepared for the devastating impact. Thud, thud, thud, thud! The charge was faster and deadlier than anything they had shown before. Ghislain’s black warhorse surged ahead with a speed that left even his allies struggling to keep up. Boom! A streak of crimson light tore into Desmond’s formation, ripping through their ranks like an unstoppable force. The battlefield erupted into chaos as the Fenris cavalry shattered the enemy’s lines, signaling the collapse of Desmond’s once-formidable army.