Knights and Magic Wand
Chapter 588 - 588 277 Undead Counterattack Happy New Year

588: Chapter 277: Undead Counterattack (Happy New Year) 588: Chapter 277: Undead Counterattack (Happy New Year) Over the vast land, the Orland Army stands like an indestructible dam before the surging tide of Corpse Ghosts.

Here, the boundary between life and death blurs, the earth-shattering rumble is incessant, cries of battle, roars, horns, and war drums, the horrifying din interwoven, thunderous and deafening.

The heavy hooves echo as they pound the earth one after another, leaving dense imprints.

Thousands of Orland Knights clad in heavy armor lead tens of thousands of Felu Heavy Cavalry, surging like formidable waves, bravely charging, the thunder of iron hooves crushing all the skeletons that stand in their way.

The Iron Cavalry Kill Array quickly engages in close combat with the elite undead clad in heavy armor.

The weapons of the living and the dead clash in the air, showering brilliant sparks, as warriors and powerful Corpse Ghosts continuously fall from their mounts.

Behind them, a vast infantry phalanx forms an iron wall, clashing violently with the unending surges of the Undead Sea.

The dull thud of blades slicing flesh, the crash of shields against bones, and the roars of warriors mingling with the screech of the undead accompany the land dyed red with blood and fire.

Shadows of Flying Dragons sweep across the sky, like deities from legends descending upon the battlefield.

The scarlet royal cape flutters, Lydwen III tightly grips the iron-chain reins, guiding the Dragon Beast beneath him through the mid-air horde of Corpse Demons, diving toward the ground.

A deafening dragon’s roar erupts, searing dragon breath pours forth from the giant mouth of the overlord, a storm of flames sweeping away, instantly consuming countless shadows in black.

Numerous Corpse Ghosts and Wandering Souls wail as they turn to ashes in the dragon’s flames, the air thick with the acrid smell of charred flesh.

The dragon’s body soars again, leaving only scorched earth on the curse-ravaged battlefield.

At the forefront of the army, Warlock Masters clad in robe armor with Holy Lamps and Magic Wands fly amidst the bloody battle, eyes glinting with lights of different Magic Power.

The scattered elements spew from their mouths and eyes, as if wanting to control all the forces of heaven and earth.

Master Hilgard chants magic spells aloud, wielding a long hammer, a gale of air blades suddenly sweeps up heaps of Corpse Ghosts, shredding countless mummies into fragments.

Another Northern Wizard’s fingertips flicker with arcs of electricity, streaks of thunderstorm from his hand striking the skeletal undead before him into powder.

Farther away, a Warlock Master controls raging flames from the center of a Magic Pattern Ring, leaving a trail of scorched corpses and charred bones in his wake….

More high-level Warlocks are immersed in the magnificent magic arrays behind the army, their chants harmonizing with the orderly light of Dharma Seals surrounding them, their eyes gradually filling with deep starlight, as if peering into the essence of all things.

Mighty elements conjured collectively by the spellcasters rapidly gather in the sky above, until the tumultuous energies could no longer be constrained, the overwhelming mana storm sweeps through the battlefield with the force to decimate thousands of troops.

In the distance, the withered countenance of the Corpse Witches gaze at the doomsday-like destructive magic, one by one standing under the shadow of the Soul Bell Corpse Wagon, raising their withered fingers high, the soul carriage like an opened abyss gateway unleashes torrents of vengeful spirits akin to magical bombardments.

Ghosts, laden with endless resentment, rush toward the Royal Domain Guards in front of the Orland formation, attempting to tear a rift in the solid defense protecting the Warlocks.

However, the piercing screech shatters explosively.

The Royal Domain Guards, wielding long spears, disregarded the evil witchcraft crumbling in the light ahead, standing as immovable as mountains, continuously slaying the attacking Corpse Demon Soldiers.

Behind them, the light bursting from the Guardian Spirit Holy Lamp shimmers like a curtain, blocking the soul torrents and stray wandering souls outside.

In the sky, Giant Bat Ghosts fold their wings, disengaging from mid-air skirmishes with Pegasus Knights.

Following the distant echo of the Soul Bell’s command, they swoop low over the military formations where magic power surges, launching a beheading assault.

A Giant Bat Ghost crashes thunderously into the phalanx first, the undead monster wielding its claws and wings, slaughtering the surrounding soldiers swarming it, ignoring the swords’ and spears’ impacts, screeching manically as it charges the dazzling light of the lanterns ahead.

At this moment, a different rhythm of footsteps rushes towards it from the flank.

The monster glances sideways while charging, spotting a Barbarian Giant clad in a crimson black dragon emblem war robe, wielding an exaggeratedly huge war hammer, roaring with a gust of foul wind, the heavy hammer swinging fiercely down.

BOOM!!

The terrifying giant hammer smashes the Giant Bat Ghost away violently, the barbarian trolls let out excited bloodthirsty roars, immediately stomping their hulking legs through the confusedly dodging soldiers of Orland, charging unleashed into the enemy formations…

On the blood-soaked battlefield, bravely fighting soldiers, spellcasters who summon wind and lightning, knights charging fearlessly…

tens of thousands of Orland Soldiers tug at the scales of victory amidst the fierce battle.

The faces of the Warlock Apprentices gradually pale like paper, their bodies trembling from overexerting their magic power, some even collapsing from exhaustion.

Yet this persistence was not in vain, for in the brief stalemate, the Orland Knights had already pierced through the Undead Corpse Sea.

Baron Kellan, clad in a deer-horned war robe, swinging a Rune War Axe leads the charge, another Orland Knight riding a Karak Dragon Lizard follows closely behind.

No undead could withstand these two Kingdom Generals of unmatched valor.

The duo, mowing down Corpse Ghosts relentlessly, leads a vast number of Knights of Valor, forming a fierce wall-like formation, advancing irresistibly towards the rows of Soul Bell Wagons.

From all directions, countless Death Cavalry clad in Urian scale armor and riding skeletal warhorses encircle and charge at the Orland Cavalry Army.

In mid-air, Lydwen witnesses the chaotic mix in the undead’s rear, understanding victory is assured, he immediately commands his mount dragon to cease the frontal incineration of the gore tide, and instead flap towards the undead cavalry intercepting his knights.

The powerful Dragon Beast delivers the final blow to this Undead Army.

The massive dragon wings glide over the Corpse Witches and Death Cavalry’s heads, the searing Dragon Flame utterly melts the reborn dead and those Soul Bell Wagons desecrating life.

Seated atop the dragon’s back, the Orland Monarch controls his companion to soar upwards, his jade-colored eyes devoid of joy or sadness.

This is just another inevitable victory he has secured.

Finally, with the Kantadar people paying the price of life for delay, the elite forces of the Kingdom gather here.

With the protection of the Guardian Spirit Holy Lamp, tens of thousands of Orland Army main forces have pushed the undead army back south of Mamor County.

Feeling the cold wind rushing into his helmet, Lydwen simply lifts his face mask, gazing eastward.

No doubt at this moment, his cousin, the Border Marquis of Deyatuk, is also following Trosa’s plan, leading the troops from beyond the border, riding the Flying Dragon “Mountain Rock,” roasting the seemingly endless Corpse Ghosts beyond the border.

Once their two armies eradicate the undead in this region, the occupied territory and Dragon Claw Fortress will completely connect, north of Mamor can then be united as one.

A sense of ease even arises in Lydwen’s heart.

He can’t help but feel that perhaps he and many others overestimated this Undead Calamity.

Judging by the current trend, as long as nothing goes awry on the Holy Sun Church’s side of the battlefield, this sea of corpses sweeping the land can be slowly eradicated.

Indeed, if the disaster were to occur within Orland’s borders, untold casualties in the millions would undoubtedly spell catastrophe for the Kingdom.

Fortunately, all disaster arose from the Kantadar border, and that mysterious young Baron provided him with a weapon against the Corpse Ghosts magic.