Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters
Chapter 1240 - 40 Great Alliance Moves Forward (Conclusion)_3

Chapter 1240: Chapter 40 Great Alliance Moves Forward (Conclusion)_3

The situation on the east bank of River Valley evolved into a chaotic melee, brown and blue-gray specks intermingling, with the concept of a battle line nowhere to be found.

There was no longer a front or a back, only survival and death; no more allies and enemies, only those to be killed and those not to be killed.

On the periphery of the battlefield, Colonel Sanel, donned in a regular soldier’s uniform, essentially lost control over the council army. He had played his last card, exhausted all reserves, and used every trick up his sleeve.

At this moment, Sanel Caroy was like a gambler who had pushed in all his chips, with the outcome no longer under his control.

It might be the council army collapsing entirely in the next second, or the alliance army collapsing entirely in the next second, and Sanel was powerless to influence the victory or defeat even a little.

He could only desperately pray—with an earnestness he had never felt in his decades of life—hoping for the rebels’ disintegration to come one second sooner.

He fixed his gaze on the position of his main camp, pinning all his hopes there, relying on the cavalry in brown attire, carrying conclusive evidence of the rebel leader’s "complete destruction," to charge out of the smoke and topple the first domino of the rebels’ total collapse.

As if something in the ethereal world heard the prayer, Sanel saw the brown-clad cavalry who had disappeared in the smoke reappear from the dust once more.

Like a gambler beside the roulette table watching as the little red ball finally lands on his bet number, a frenzy erupted in Sanel’s chest: "The bandit leader is dead!"

However, in the next moment, the situation completely reversed—the cavalry in brown were not reporting victory, but fleeing for their lives in panic.

The little red ball ultimately bounced into the adjacent slot.

The Phantom crawled out of The Styx once again, riding an enemy warhorse through the smoke, the shattered flags fluttering, the earth seemingly groaning under his hooves.

The council army cavalry blocking his path was literally torn apart—when soldiers of the Grand Council army truly faced the legend, they realized he was a hundred times more terrifying than the legend.

Sanel could only watch helplessly as The Styx’s Phantom pierced through the light cavalry’s encirclement, then the square formation of the Sixth Legion, and finally the thin layer of cavalry surrounding the routing soldiers.

What followed was nearly a one-sided massacre.

Humans wearing brown clothes were like sheep driven by beasts, screaming, crawling, and fleeing in all directions.

They were initially driven back to the battlefield by the supervisory team out of fear, not battle spirit.

When something even more terrifying than the supervisory team appeared, not even the sabers of the supervisory team could stop the re-formed council army deserters from fleeing a second time.

Like glass shattered by an iron hammer, the retaliatory force the council army had pieced together at any cost exploded into countless fragments before one man.

The sudden huge wave even swept others on the battlefield into it, hundreds and thousands of deserters breaking up the council army and Iron Peak County cavalry, flooding every gap between the brown and blue-gray specks.

Seber tried to rally his subordinates, but chaos was all around him.

He reined in his horse and looked around, everywhere were people driven by instinct to escape and trampled corpses. The pale gold wheat field was trampled into a mire, mixed with blood and flesh, disappearing into the wails and whimpers.

The sound of hoofbeats rolled in from the east, but the council army had exhausted their reinforcements.

Sanel fell into despair—from now on, every new force appearing on the battlefield would only be reinforcements for the rebels.

Sure enough, a heavily armored cavalry was galloping toward the battlefield from the Provincial Road, the flag emblazoned with a winged lion fluttering in the wind, Andrea Cherini’s figure at the forefront of the column.

The Iron Peak County cavalry’s marching route was not the mountain but the river, flowing downstream directly to Snake Swamp. Therefore, the cavalry that should have arrived at the designated rally point first, instead took the farthest route.

But regardless, they had made it to the battlefield.

Yet when Andre witnessed the scene on both sides of River Valley Village, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of astonishment.

The battlefield had descended into complete chaos, enemies everywhere, allies everywhere; over ten thousand people crammed into the fields of the North Shore, some fleeing, some killing.

"My Lord." Tulin, alongside, clicked his tongue nervously, stammering, "What do we do?"

"Go where the enemy is!" Andre concluded at a glance, fastening his helmet, drawing his sword: "The fake army has only its last breath remaining, the remnants are fighting on their own under their respective military flags—then we will go seize their military flags!"

"Into formation!" Tulin took a deep breath, raised his lance high, turned and shouted to the comrades: "Seize the flags!"

"Seize the flags!"

"Seize the flags!!"

"Seize the flags!!!"

The heavily armored cavalry of Iron Peak County charged towards the "King’s Flag" in the center of the battlefield, the sea parting before them.

When Andre personally cut down the King’s Flag, the last of the Sixth Legion’s honor, courage, and dignity dissipated into smoke.

Andre hoisted the blood-drenched battle flag high above his head: "Next flag!"

"Next flag!!!" The response was a thunderous cheer.

No one doubted the outcome of today’s victory.

...

...

Dusk.

Warm sunlight spilled over the church and hills, casting long shadows across the plains.

Aside from the rows of corpses laying like black spots stretching for miles, there were almost no standing "people" on the battlefield.

The alliance soldiers pursuing the fleeing enemies had disappeared beyond the horizon, leaving only a unit of cavalry to monitor the remaining council army troops trapped in River Valley Village.