Chapter 82: Lance Charge
The biological level of the ogres is 5, and they are naturally second-tier intelligent beings.
If they successfully advance, their strength will be the biological level plus the profession level. Although the ogre army in front of them has only warrior levels of two and three, the skills they possess as warriors are far inferior to those of humans; however, their overall strength is still above that of the White Horse City’s army. The inherent strength of the ogres allows them to charge into the line, rampaging through it. The heavily-armored infantry enhanced by strength spells can barely hold them back, but it’s not so easy for the other White Horse guards.
The first line of defense shows signs of chaos.
Ogres at the front fall in batches, dozens are shot dead by crossbow bolts within a few breaths, but the casualties among the White Horse City army are also significant—those unfortunate light infantry struck by ogre clubs mostly d*e on the spot, and those lucky enough end up with severed limbs. The spells cast by the wizards are limited, and most are concentrated on the more powerful heavy infantry; the light infantry lacking spell enhancement simply cannot withstand the ogres’ charge.
“Steady! Steady!”
The fully-armored commander roars, pointing his sword forward, shouting, “The elite legion of White Horse City, attack!”
Heavy footsteps resound.
The second tier’s heavy infantry begins to advance, all wearing full armor, but they do not use shields. Their weapons are various; some wield two-handed swords, others use long-handled sabers, and some employ flails, mace, or great scythes. They are all tier three warriors with profession levels above level 10, requiring no spell enhancement. With a roar, they charge toward the ogres.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The sounds of weapons clashing continuously ring out.
These elite heavy infantry easily block the ogres’ attacks head-on, fearlessly engaging in hard combat, their armored forms agile enough to evade the enemy’s ferocious strikes while seeking opportunities to hit vital points. Ten levels in profession means five points of free attributes; their strength is not much different from that of the ogres. The only regret is that these warriors are very few in number, only about seventy or eighty. However, as they join the battle, the first line of defense quickly stabilizes.
“Fatal strike?”
Soren, holding a powerful crossbow, fires continuously while glancing at the chaotic battlefield where three or five individuals stand out. Where they pass, ogres fall like grass; within a few minutes, over ten ogres have perished at their hands. These are the only tier three warriors not wearing armor, moving with exceptional agility as their blades draw deadly arcs, striking the vital points of the ogres in an instant.
Tier Three Sword Saints!
As an extraordinarily violent advanced profession among warriors, these sword saints are akin to killing machines.
Five or six heavy infantry guard the sword saints, blocking side and rear enemies during cooperative attacks.
The sword saints are very fragile!
Not even wearing a piece of leather armor, a hit from the enemy could almost mean instant d*ath.
Soren hits an ogre in the eye, the crossbow bolt piercing straight through, killing the enemy in an instant. The killing experience from ogres is very high; this was just an ordinary ogre warrior, and he gains 800 points of killing experience. If it were an advanced ogre warrior, the killing experience would be comparable to that earned from killing the abyss serpent demon at the beginning.
“Lightning spear!”
A fully-armored ogre commander seems to have noticed these dangerous enemies; it roars and removes an iron spear, throwing it toward the position of the sword saints. Following closely behind are ogre warriors, they also roar and throw their iron spears in unison. The iron spears cut through the air with sharp whistling sounds, instantly killing five warriors. One sword saint, unable to dodge in time, has his thigh pierced by an iron spear, and before others can come to the rescue, the ogre laughs viciously and charges over, ready to smash down with a heavy ogre club!
As if smashing a watermelon, the sword saint’s head is instantly shattered.
Strong yet fragile.
With almost no armor, the sword saints quickly become the target of concentrated enemy attacks on this large-scale battlefield.
They stand out too much.
The ogre commander has three iron spears, and after two rounds of use, most of the ammunition has been spent. As the distance narrows, the ogre commander roars and leads a group of advanced warriors smeared with strange paint toward the wizards in the rear. These fragile spellcasters are equally dangerous; their thrown iron spears have a range of nearly a hundred meters, allowing them to attack the wizards once they break through the front line. The wizards’ armor cannot withstand such heavy weaponry; a single iron spear could puncture their magical armor and protective spells.
This group of ogres behaves like monsters that disregard common sense.
Some ogres stuck in the frontline cannot break through and abandon their immediate enemies to charge toward the flanking adventurers.
A chorus of cursing erupts.
Many adventurers pull out their weapons helplessly to confront the charging ogres.
After entering a berserker frenzy, the ogres have completely lost their rationality; anyone other than their kind can become their target. As they fight, the ogres become confused, crashing through the crowd—some charge toward the light infantry, while others leap at adventurers.
Boom!
Like a muffled thunderclap.
The Legendary Domain’s Lord of Storms can no longer hold back; she draws a short spear and throws it. It gleams with lightning, instantly pinning an ogre warrior to the ground.
A swift silhouette flies out, transcending normal human capability. The storm lord’s spear flashes with electric light as the ogres fall like wheat, most killed in a single strike, leaving scorch marks from the lightning at their wounds. The power of the legendary professionist is evident in an instant, having slain seven or eight ogres in the blink of an eye.
The sound of frenzied war drums echoes.
An ogre shaman roars to the sky, pulling out a giant bone staff, its heavy footsteps entering the battlefield.
The two-headed ogre, which had been inactive all this time, finally begins to act. Both its heads start casting spells simultaneously while wielding heavy battle axes in each hand, charging toward the storm lord. Spell light flares up, the two-headed ogre’s skin becoming as tough as rock, its speed doubling in an instant, as it swings the battle axe and effortlessly dismembers a heavy infantryman.
—”Fireball spell!”
—”Explosive flames!”
—”Dragon strength spell!”
—”Haste spell!”
The two-headed ogre casts spells much faster than human wizards. A fireball explodes in the midst of the light infantry formation; even after attempting to disperse, over ten still fall, with half of them dead. After empowering itself with dragon strength, the two-headed ogre’s strength breaks through the limits; a swing of its axe can even deform a steel shield. By the time its spell cycle ends, other wizards can barely complete their spells, using counter-spells to interrupt its next high-level haste spell.
However, two or three wizards appear pale, bl**d seeping from their lips; this is the fallout from a failed counter-spell, leaving them severely wounded.
Their intelligence clearly does not match that of the two-headed ogre wizard before them.
The White Horse City’s army falls like wheat; from the moment the two-headed ogre starts attacking until it joins the fray, over a hundred casualties occur in just a minute or two.
“It’s running low on spell slots!”
Soren’s pupils constrict slightly as he pulls out his curved blade, aiming a sideways slash at an ogre’s lower back.
Wizards’ spell slots are limited; the two-headed ogre may cast spells quickly, but it also exhausts spell slots rapidly. Just now, releasing spells in succession consumed at least half of its spell slots.
—”Flight spell.”
An empowered ogre warrior dashes past the front line, charging toward the wizards in the back.
As spell lights continue to appear, the wizards fly into the air. The flight spell has a short duration; a negligible spell intensity can only last a minute. In mid-air, without any special casting specialty, their agility and casting ability sharply decline since they must maintain the flight spell’s operation simultaneously.
“Cavalry charge!”
The opportunity in battle is fleeting; ogres hurl iron spears. Some wizards cast defensive spells, some leap into the air, and others teleport, employing countless techniques to evade. Only one or two unfortunate second-tier wizards, caught in a rain of iron spears, are hit. One unfortunate fellow, having just teleported fifty feet, is pierced through the chest by a spear. Low-tier spells cannot exceed five hundred feet in range, and the wizards are located only two or three hundred meters from the battlefield.
—”Monster paralysis spell!”
—”Charm monster!”
—”Invisibility spell!”
—”Flame arrow, acid arrow, ice lance, transformation! …”
Wizards finally unleash their spells freely, employing various specialized spells; half of the charging ogres fall. Many stubborn ogres, with their tough vitality, continue to press on, severely burned, yet furiously swinging their ogre clubs.
The heavy hoofbeats of cavalry sound; the White Horse City’s knight squad lowers their lances, urging their warhorses to charge from the flank. Accompanied by the thunderous sound of hooves, the heavy cavalry gradually spread out, maintaining a distance of about two meters as they charge toward the enemy, lances piercing through ogres, breaking and leaving half of their lengths embedded in the enemies.
A direct collision is impossible because the horses instinctively avoid it, and the knights cannot withstand the recoil.
Cavalry charges are executed in a moment of misalignment to attack; to dissipate the shock, most knight lances are fragile and will break upon impact. Otherwise, the backlash would throw the knight from the horse.
Clang!
They draw their longswords, turn their horses to charge, and as they pass the ogres, they swing their swords in horizontal strikes, the ogre’s clubs nearly grazing their armor before dropping ineffective to the ground, for the ogres’ chests have already been deeply slashed open. The cry of a warhorse rings out; even barely nicked, it suffers a fracture, throwing the knight off. The knight flips and stands, raising his shield and sword, ready to block the second wave of attack.
