The sword was raised in the rain, as the mist cast a silver glow on its blade. Freya swung her Lionheart Sword high, standing alone among the storm. The White Lion troopers looked at her, as they marched on with their weapons held up high, their blazing white blades shined through the blurry mist, as they lit up the forest with a cold glow. The phalanx started to move in an orderly formation, as everyone slowly accelerated, till they all started running. Sometimes, those who took the lead easily got overtook by those besides them. The White Lion vanguards charged in line, as the silver gloss of their armours blended in with each other. From afar, it seemed like a string of light in the rain.
That string of light was ever changing, as they kept moving forward.
The battalion charged on at the speed of sound, as if they were telling the world how a lion should be. Mogkin, commander of Madara’s Undead Swordsmen, watched it all unveil with great horror, as if he was watching a silver rapid flushing down the forest. He was reminded of when the White Winged Cavalry attacked, but that was nothing compared to the catastrophe right in front of him. What kind of infantry is this?
A frightening glow lit up the sky, as a fireball exploded not far away, mud splashed all over him, but Mogkin stood still, seemingly unknowing.
The Undead were the world’s greatest troops. As the crashes and flames slowly faded, the Spider Swordsmen at the front line stood still in place, coldly holding their swords defending their land. The formation is no longer intact, everyone was scattered throughout the map. Crossfires screeched past above their heads, as the fireballs weaved a web of flames behind them. Count Visgard was screaming with a hoarse cry, trying to get their backup troops out there to fight on. It wasn’t Count Visgard to blame, and it wasn’t the Undead troops to fault too, but as the Spider Swordsmen kept coming fearlessly through the faint radiance of flames, fireballs landed upon them, exploding those skeletons into ashes. The heat melted their armour, letting the liquid metal slowly drip onto the ground. They cooled down in the rain, leaving a dark heavy piece of the metal disk.
Only a few of the Spider Swordsmen managed to break through the net of flames into the battlefield. The Aouine wizards cunningly focused their attacks onto the centre of the field. The troops swiftly filled up the sides of Madara, leaving a weak spot in the middle of the field. Count Visgard watched it all unfold with grief and terror. He had never seen a war like this before. He was now helpless like a weak little girl. He knew what the Aouines were up to, but he never knew how to stop them.
“Oh Marsha our lord, the goddess of all spiders, save us!” Undeads don’t believe in crying tears of pity, but Count Visgard felt like shedding one today.
The White Lions pierced through the camp by Magara’s riverbank like a glowing silver spear. The youngsters taking the lead were now less than ten meters away from those living bones, standing tall in the drizzle, so close that they could see the neon fires in the skull, heatless, cold as ice. The White Lions were excellent warriors, but they were still uneasy facing off against an opponent like this. The commanders let off a thunderous war cry, roaring the hearts of everyone. With Jana, Forn, Mars and Carglise from behind, leading the generals at the front line, comforted the initial hesitations of the troops. The flag of the White Lions marched on in the rain as another woman led the way. She was in a white robe with chainmail all over, holding a crucifix in her hand, looking like the god of war.
It was Hipamila.
No one knew why their lord decided to bring her female servant along, but as she raised her crucifix up high, Brendel felt something as he saw it happening from far behind. The elements of the Planeswalker started to come unstable. The elements of light and earth rose upon the Element Pool, before slowly fading away. As Brendel lifted his head, he saw the behavior of Madara’s skeleton troops. Their inhuman movements as they swayed their swords up in an orderly and organised manner, slicing up hundreds of arcs.
Ten metres away, a visible curved edge can be seen charging forward, evolving into a conical shock wave in a blink of an eye. It sliced through curtains of water, passing a White Lion commander in the front line with a swoosh. It was at that moment, a faint greyish glow radiated from the White Lions Battalion. The rays formed a cylindrical sphere upon impact with the shock wave. No matter how strong the impact was, the sphere showed no signs of breaking. As waves of shock waves swifted through the land, the riverbank was sliced off by an inch. The grasslands were blown away, leaving a dark muddy piece of land. Even so, everyone on this muddy ground was not hurt, not even by a bit.
Praise the holy song.
For the first time ever, Hipamila showed everyone on the ground the powers of the Planeswalkers, shocking everyone who witnessed the scene.,
“What was that?” Count Visgard shrieked with fear from his hollow body.
What kind of sorcery is this that’s keeping everyone from the troop immune from harm? His hollow mind would never be able to figure out what kind of power was that. Even a Sage would never be able to get ahold of this magic. Only the gods, who exist above all laws of mortals, were able to perform miracles like that. Mogkin was vacant too. He was a Lich that knew the terror of everything that happened just now. It was not any kind of spell or wizardry. It was worse.
At that moment, he sensed a tremble in the clouds.
Despite being an Undead, he felt helpless and grief, something he had not felt ever before. Ever since he became a Lich, he has forgotten how to feel like a living being. Meanwhile, the unharmed White Lions Battalion caught on with their battle with the Spider Swordsmen. Despite being new and naive, with the Trentheim not as organised as the Undead, they had one advantage. The wizards were finally able to showcase their roles. In The Amber Sword, they could buff an entire legion. Albeit in most cases, the effect is rather subtle, such as increasing valor by a minor fraction.
Some other spells such as Wind Wings, Heaven Blades, Skin of Stone and more, could only be used a few at once. These spells work better on smaller scaled battles. For just a few wizards, if they were to cast these spells on an entire enemy legion, they might get worn out till death. Even if they don’t, there would not be enough time for them to do so.
But it was not a big deal for the White Lions.
The entire White Lion Legion had only a thousand and five hundred troops, but they had a hundred and twenty wizards going along with them. Brendel arranged the troops into a hundred divisions, with each wizard being in charge of their assigned divisions. This allows them to buff everyone within a short period of time. The credits are not Brendel’s though. After the Battle of Slanted Forest, when wizards started participating in large scales, the smarter players did some analyzing and came out with these strategies. Every minor detail, were experience and lessons passed down from their forefathers. However, there was an exception to this strategy.
It originated from Madara.
It was used by the wizards from Madara in the Slater War that will happen in the future. The White Lions Legion were not at the level then yet, but they were able to dominate with that strategy in this era.
On another occasion, the Undeads of Madara once used the same tactic to defeat the Auorines, the Wind Elves and the Kirrlutzs. But today, what they did came and bit back at themselves. “I wonder how am I doing as a student,” Brendel thought to himself, as he calmly watched the White Lions Legion fight against Count Visgard’s troops. The Undead were tough and strong, but their weak formation failed to stop the White Lion vanguards. A silver line slowly cut through the darkness, and in a blink of an eye, they broke through the dams, charging straight towards the Madara forces.
The black rose wilted in the rain before it even had its chance to bloom. The White Lions slowly drowned out the outnumbered Spider Swordsmen and slowly took the upper hand in the battlefield. Enhanced with buffs, the human troops were able to overpower the Undead swordsmen. Madara’s Undead troops were unable to protect their necromancers as well. When the necromancers fall one by one, the skeletons crumble into bones too. Although the Undead were fearless, they had one major flaw.
The Undeads were built with the Power of Souls, which originates from the necromancers. When the necromancers pass away, they will disintegrate instantly. This was what the White Lions achieved. They tore apart the Madaran troops, leaving the commanding necromancers exposed to their blade. What Planchet failed to accomplish, Freya did.
Freya now shifted her attention to Count Visgard and his Dark Knights. After their battle at the Deadly Tundra forest, her Blood of The War Goddess awakened. And with the Seal of The War Goddess activated, she already had the strength of a Middle Gold warrior. She was comparable to those other War Goddesses in history. After the Year of Swallows, she had the opportunity to awaken their Elemental Powers when she first met Veronica. One year later, she crossed the Elemental Opening to become a true Aouine War Goddess.
The female knight turned her horse around, heading in their direction. Mogkin took notice of it, and would like to help, but he stopped quickly after as a stone staff came crashing from beside him. In response, he unconsciously weaved a barrier with dark magic to block the impact. But what happened next was far beyond his expectations. He watched the staff hit his barrier, and the dark barrier started screeching. It then started flashing before slowly disintegrating.
And the staff connected right in the center of Mogkin’s skull..
With no time to react, his head shattered into pieces like shards of glass.
“What monstrous strength is this?!” he let out a cry on his skeleton horse, then tumbling and crashing to the ground.
Hipamila stopped, letting go of the genus of the mountains in her hand. She looked up to watch as the soul of the Lich shot against the sky, returning to where he came from, while admiring the power of the staff she held in her hand.
This was the power of earth and the mountains.
A deafening shriek sounded across the sky.
Brendel looked up.He saw lifeforms stretching out their wings, within the dark clouds in the sky. The Phantoms of Terror had arrived.
As they dropped down from mid air, they screeched in an ear piercing pitch that echoed through the valley, a scream sorrowful enough to send chills down everyone’s spines. Unfortunately, it was nothing for the White Lions. Their courage and fearlessness were well recorded in old poems and legends of Aouine, making them the best troops to fight off the Undead.
The Terror Phantoms flew through the rain, straight towards the Trentheim wizards. Hundreds of them slashed down in a line, with deterrence strong enough to sprout fear among mortals. Some younger wizards shot fireballs into the air out of fright, but the phantoms dodged them easily. Some attempted to cast spells, but they got knocked on their heads before they could chant them out. As they turned around looking for commands, Planchet was staring strictly at them. “Don’t get your targets wrong!” Morgan was no longer the unlucky apprentice. After experiencing the Loop of Trade Winds, he grew fast, and now has the abilities of a Gold ranker. One of the few talented wizards taught by Ciel, he was now the leader of the magicians.
Out of the blue, all the wizards started to aim at the Skeleton Warriors across the river.
“They are crazy!” The bloodstaff was slowly killing off the forces in front of them, making it easier for the Vieros, but as they turned around, they were only shocked by what they saw. “Are the Trentheims giving up their wizards?!”
Count Jacques felt equally confused, but he believed that the Trentheims were not dumb. They surely had a plan, he thought. But what was the plan? He thought as he laid his eyes on the dark forest behind him.
Bloodstaff stared into the forest too.
At that moment, everyone on the field had an idea about what was going to happen. It was like a spark in the head, as if everyone had the ability to predict the future. As expected, an arrow came flying out of the woods. That moment, it felt as if the clock stopped ticking, and all eyes were now on the arrow as it curved in a terrible arc. It failed to hit any of the Phantoms, and instead, it lost its momentum halfway, falling onto Brendel’s shoulder.
Brendel stared at the arrow, confused, then peeked at the dark forest.
“I’m so sorry, it slipped,” Fini apologized. The Tree Elf archer looked at her commander with shame, “The roars of those monsters scared me,”
Medissa, dumbfounded, shook her head, as she turned around holding her bow up high.
But the clumsy arrow seemed to insinuate what was about to come.
The next moment, screams roared throughout the sky.
A green wall was erected among the trees, formed by a large number of green dots. Every green dot was the shiny tip of an arrow. “Are they trying to fight off the Phantoms with archers?” Bloodstaff sighed. The Vieros fought Terror Phantoms with crossbows before, but no matter how well they shot, only two of the Phantoms were slightly harmed. The Phantoms were too quick in the skies. And, similar to the skeletons, they were resistant to arrows.
Not to mention, in the terrible weather they’re in, it will be even harder for archers to hit their mark compared to crossbowmen at that time.
But before the skeletons could let out their cold grin, they were stunned by what they saw. The arrows were not like those shot by ordinary archers. They did not have their usual arcs, phasing through the Phantoms and landing on the ground without hitting anything.Instead, arrows were fired rapidly like storms, right into the ranks of the Phantoms,only to start losing momentum three or four miles away after that.
But that wasn’t too important.
What’s important is that around twenty Phantoms rained down from the sky after being shot by the arrows.
“The Elf Archers!” But at such a range… Bloodstaff’s brain was buzzing.. Only the best archers from the Elves are able to reach such terrifying range with their shots. But, it couldn’t be the Wind Elves, nor it could be the Wild Elves, as they don’t roam around here. He stared at the troops while asking himself:
Where did these guys come from?
In the meantime, Count Jacques screamed in shock, “It’s an enchanted arrow!” As he watched it all came down with fear, suddenly realizing the mistake he made.