Iron Harvest: When Farming Becomes Conquest

The leader of the fiends raised the blue Ice Blade, pointing toward the battlefield where the Silver Moon Knights were charging.

It issued a sound like a river breaking through ice, rumbling and vibrating, swiftly reaching the ears of all the fiends.

The fiends, receiving their orders, surged toward the Silver Moon Knights in large numbers, intending to slaughter them.

Herman had not been fighting long before he gradually felt the heaviness in his body, his longsword almost impossible to lift, growing heavier by the moment.

He was greatly astonished.

With his rich combat experience, given the current battle tempo, it was impossible for him to deplete his strength.

The only sensation was cold!

An astonishing cold, his skin felt like it was being scalded.

This group of fiends seemed like ice blocks emitting cold air, needing powerful slashes to cut them down.

Because of his armor, Herman made no defensive maneuvers, believing those ice blades could not penetrate his Silver Moon Armor.

Then he suddenly noticed his longsword, his pupils contracting sharply.

He saw his swift, sharp sword was covered in frost, while his armor, repeatedly hit by ice blades, was hung with icicles.

He chopped down another fiend and glanced around, discovering his comrades were in similar straits, trudging as though burdened with hundreds of pounds.

"These fiends all have magical powers." the witch said.

The Silver Moon Knights charged in a wedge formation, cutting through like scissors through the battlefield, while the witch was protected in the middle, constantly summarizing experiences.

Gwen said, "Don't conserve your strength! Use Silver Moon Magic to dispel this cold magic power. I think when they've amassed a lot, they will erode your weapons and armor. Once a certain limit is reached, everything will be shattered, including yourself. Because by then, your skin and armor will be inseparable."

"We'll engage the enemy now, you recover, then rotate." another witch said.

"I, I understand..." Herman's teeth were chattering, feeling the stubble in his face guard and his eyebrows hung with ice.

As the vanguard, he had only killed about twenty fiends, and his whole being was turning into a living ice sculpture.

Saya drew a Magic Steel Heavy Sword from her wide black robe, holding it tightly with both hands, jumping two meters, slicing an attacking fiend in two.

Landing on the ground, she rolled, sweeping the heavy sword horizontally, cutting off two pale legs from another fiend with crisp and clean action.

As the legless fiend fell to the ground and still didn't die, Saya reversed her grip on the sword hilt, the tip facing down, thrusting heavily into the ground!

Bang!

The fiend's body exploded, like ice shattered on the snowy plain.

Saya looked at the heavy sword, seeing a layer of frost forming at a visible speed.

She freed her left hand, her calloused palm lightly brushing the blade, and the frost vanished without a trace.

The other witches also struck with thunder.

None were more notable than Monica; like Gwen, she stood at the pinnacle of Middle Rank witches, using Void power to crush five fiends at once, her billowing sleeves sending seven or eight more flying ten meters away.

The battlefield suddenly cleared.

The Silver Moon Knights took the opportunity to gather, trembling.

The longer the abnormal state dragged on, the worse their physical condition.

When they realized the situation, within half a minute, their souls seemed to plummet into icy hell.

Everyone's teeth chattered, it felt like their bones creaked, muscles froze tight like frozen fish, struggling to unleash Silver Moon Magic.

"Silver Moon Radiance, penetrate the dark! Silver Moon Power, protect me!"

They stood in a circle, one hand holding their sword in the air, the other tracing intricate Dharma Seals in mid-air.

This was the exclusive spell of the Silver Moon Knights.

As the protective Dharma Seal took effect, their silver armor emitted a hazy glow, echoing with the seal, and ice shards and frost fell off in a rush, their bodies beginning to regain warmth.

However, casting was no easy task; up to this point, half their stamina was already spent.

This was something no one had anticipated.

The fiends moved silently in the cold night, incredibly fast; they weren't a mortal army. A mortal army losing twenty percent would collapse, but fiends wouldn't. They'd fight to the death, and even after dying, their magic could counterattack against the slayers, leaving the Silver Moon Knights in such dire straits.

Now, they stood at the center of the battlefield.

More fiends surged in silently, like a cold wave.

This battle was far more difficult than Herman had imagined, and he started to regret.

On the other hand, if the Frost Clan couldn't hold out, and current strength was completely lost.

With only them, they wouldn't be able to protect Valia, they'd only flee.

"Frost Clan! Push forward resolutely!!" shouted the previous Frost Priest.

He was tall, about two meters seventy, considered a High Rank Knight in human society.

He personally led a group of Frost Warriors over, preventing the Silver Moon Knights from being cut off without support.

With reinforcements diverting attention, the pressure on the Silver Moon Knights dropped sharply.

Herman secretly ordered, and the knights began to cooperate, assisting the Frost Warriors in killing the fiends.

Though this couldn't completely shield them from the fiends' curses, it could alleviate the curses.

In fact, the witches believed that stepping onto this battlefield meant being cursed even without taking action.

Because the moment the first fiend died here, the battlefield was cursed.

It's just the degree and range varied.

The Silver Moon Knights also noticed that simply applying basic Defensive Magic to their Silver Moon Armor could greatly reduce the anomalous effects brought by the fiends' curse.

Defensive Magic was basic, consuming little. Furthermore, since the spell and armor came from the same source, the consumption was even lower.

The tricky part was, the fiends did not only have curses as their method.

Though most fiends were Low Rank Knights, it didn't mean they lacked middle and high-level combat power.

It's just that the high-level combat forces among the fiends were engaged in a life-or-death battle with the Frost Priests who arrived later.

Herman threw himself fully into the battlefield, and the fierce battle made him forget the passage of time.

They faced endless slaughter, stamina almost exhausted, throat like a dried spring, arms stiff.

He was adept at using the most energy-efficient tactics, recovering strength through deep breathing to improve combat stamina.

But here wasn't Black Iron; it was a cold, snowy plain.

The sky relentlessly descended with frigid snow, and by now, the ground was covered to a depth of over ten centimeters, turning everyone into snowmen.

He even suspected his lungs were filled with ice shards, piercing his heart and lungs, stealing his strength.

Even weapons forged from Mithril showed a few nicks when clashing with the evil ghost's ice blades.

A brutal battle, harsh environment, and unfamiliar Alien Race...

He initially wondered if it was necessary to help one Alien Race fight against another.

But after a while, all thoughts disappeared.

Battle!

Only battle!

To become a Silver Moon Knight, without exception, one must have the most outstanding talent and the strongest willpower.

Every time he thought he couldn't go on, when he was on the verge of collapse, there would always be an extremely faint gentle force from somewhere stimulating his body, making him hover on the edge of life and death.

Fighting until the sky turned dark, body nearing its limit.

The entire world suddenly plunged into darkness...

"Your Highness above, am I… dead?"

Herman suddenly froze.

A silver moon flew down from the sky!

Moonlight poured from the heavens, illuminating all the Silver Moon Knights.

Holy, pure, tranquil...

The Silver Moon Knights who originally fell, knelt, barely stood, or were turning into lifeless ice sculptures, felt a new strength surge from deep within their bodies, like a spring flowing into the barren earth, breathing new life into it.

At this moment!

The Silver Moon Knights gained enlightenment. They rose in unison, forming a circle, gripping their sword hilts and planting them in the snowy plain, those noble figures standing firm, erupting with a bright radiance.

Boom—!!

A pure and powerful force burst forth!

The bright moonlight rapidly spread across the entire battlefield, instantly dissolving more than half of the cold curse, the temperature swiftly rising, even piercing through the dark clouds in the sky, letting a gentle beam of moonlight fall onto the battlefield.

"This is—the Silver Moon Domain!"

Herman opened his eyes and turned to look.

From within the Frost Tribe, a pale-faced young witch walked out.

It was none other than Silver Moon Laisa.

She held a dim and dull Silver Moon Gem in her hands.

Clearly, unleashing a large-scale purification domain had nearly exhausted all the miraculous power of this gemstone.

The leading evil ghost's eyes burned like dark ice.

"A High Rank Spellslinger of the Human Clan? Intending to purify the Cold Wave Echo of my tribe?"

It spoke in a rarely understood language, its tone full of mockery.

It raised a cold-colored blade, aiming at Silver Moon Laisa, issuing commands to the evil ghosts.

"Attack!"

Boom!

An ice spear was thrown from behind Laisa, piercing into the battlefield in an instant, tearing through the snow with powerful wind pressure, shooting down dozens of evil ghosts along the way, leaving a very clear trail on the ground.

The azure ice blade shuddered abruptly in the air!

Then, everyone witnessed with their own eyes, behind Silver Moon Laisa, a female giant over two meters tall slowly walked out.

She was tall and beautiful, clad in Platinum Battle Armor, her skin alabaster, eyes icy blue, features rocky, a fierce scar on her face, a head full of white long hair billowing wildly in the cold wind.

"Valia!" All the people of the Frost cheered madly, exhilarated, jubilant, some even moved to tears!

The exhausted witches withdrew from the battlefield upon seeing that figure.

They knew that the witch of Frost had returned.

This war would be dominated by her alone!

Valia strode forward, each step more than a meter long, quickening pace from slow walking to rapid charge!

The biting cold wind was left behind her!

"Roar!!!"

She let out a roar as she charged, vibrating the air, dashing into the battlefield, her right hand grasping the void, instantly conjuring a war spear over three meters long in the air, like a war god, starting a massive massacre in all directions.

Single-handedly advancing, as if entering an uninhabited land!

Eventually, Valia fought all the way to the leader of the creatures.

She could tell at a glance that this evil ghost held a different status and was itself terrifyingly powerful.

By human standards, it was roughly equivalent to a Sixth to Seventh Rank Conquest Knight, and its evil ghost army numbered in the thousands.

"Son of Frost… you can't stop my tribe, we're merely the first wave of expedition crossing the Ice Plain."

Valia looked down at it: "How many livestock hordes do you have now?"

The creature leader laughed coldly: "Endless!"

"I will slaughter all your people and reclaim my homeland!"

"You can't, Son of Frost. My tribe sees death as home and will drown your life in sacrifice."

Valia replied: "Frost equally regards death as home."

"Then come on!" The creature leader raised the azure ice blade, targeting Valia.

Clang!

It hacked suddenly at Valia's chest armor.

Valia's body didn't move an inch.

She raised her hand, placing a broad palm on the creature leader's head, and then exerted strength with her fingers, crushing it.

"Then come on!" she murmured, staring northward.