NOVEL NEXT chapter 59 - End of the Ambush
Between the clashes of battle aura, strong winds kicked up dust from the ground.
On the battlefield, Lambert and Haskell engaged once more.
This time, under the Boiling Blood state, Haskell was like a wild beast; even with blood flowing incessantly, he felt almost no pain.
He roared, swinging his axe down, forcing Lambert back several steps, the axe blade cracking the armor on Lambert's chest, and blood flowing from the rupture.
Lambert chose not to continue a head-on confrontation, instead using agile movements to stall for time, not giving Haskell another chance to close in.
“Haaahhh!!!”
The surrounding Snowsworn were also encouraged by this strike, falling into a Boiling Blood frenzy, charging madly towards the Red Tide Knights.
The Red Tide Knights reacted immediately, quickly tightening their formation amidst the chaotic battle.
But even with Louis's foresight and pre-battle preparations, one young knight was careless.
He was struck directly in the chest by an axe, sent flying, and slammed heavily against the stone wall, his spine breaking, dying on the spot.
Lambert's expression grew heavier as he witnessed this scene.
Although victory was certain, continuing like this would still mean losing several knights.
Moreover, warriors in the Boiling Blood state couldn't last long; there was no need to clash head-on with them.
“Adjust formation, disperse!”
He let out a low cry, and the Red Tide Knights quickly changed their tactics.
They pulled back, no longer engaging the enemy directly, but continuously harassing them with mounted mobility and long-range projectiles.
As expected, the Boiling Blood Snowsworn did not last long, their movements gradually slowing.
Their bodies began to show backlash: skin ulcerated, blood spewed from their mouths, and their roars turned into screams.
“Ughhh!!!”
Some Snowsworn fell to the ground, writhing and twitching in pain.
Others chose to continue fighting through the pain, but their battle aura was chaotic, which only hastened their demise.
Lambert did not allow his troops to get close, instead continuing to tie them down with a war of attrition.
As long as they dragged it out, this battle would ultimately belong to them.
Haskell was still persisting; he stumbled to his feet, his muscles beginning to tear, blood flowing down the axe handle to his fingertips.
His eyes had lost focus, yet he still pressed forward.
“Follow {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} me!!!”
He roared, carrying his last shred of battle aura, and charged towards Lambert.
This time, Lambert did not retreat; he steadied his horse, raised his spear, and met the enemy.
The battle axe and cavalry spear collided in mid-air, and Haskell's axe blade finally shattered, iron fragments flying.
His chest was also pierced by Lambert's spear, and blood gushed out.
However, he did not fall.
“I'll drag you to hell with me!”
He shouted, pouncing forward, embracing Lambert tightly like a wild beast.
His surrounding battle aura began to run wild, a scorching aura permeated the air, preparing to self-destruct and take Lambert with him.
Fortunately, a Red Tide Knight rushed over, delivering a horizontal slash that severed Haskell's right arm, sending him flying.
Haskell crashed heavily to the ground, his battle aura dissipating, lying on his side, gazing at the sky.
The setting sun was as red as blood.
“Father… I… still couldn't…”
Before he could finish, he closed his eyes unwillingly.
The battlefield fell silent.
…………
The dust had not yet settled, and Yoen lay prostrate by the cliff edge, his mouth agape in an “O” shape.
He had forgotten how many times he had been stunned.
The battle began with an ambush, falling rocks, a rain of arrows, and then the encirclement by three lines of knights.
The entire process was as brilliant as a play.
Every step was precise, every warrior cooperated flawlessly.
But the opponents were the Snowsworn, and they had that terrifying Boiling Blood frenzy.
He had originally thought the Red Tide Territory knights would pay a heavy price, but in less than half an hour, the situation was decided.
“I… I’ve been shocked so many times already,” Yoen muttered softly.
He turned to look at the man beside him, his mouth twitching: “Boss, how on earth did you do it? Prophecy? Or do you actually have someone in the Snowsworn…”
Louis glanced at him indifferently: “Shut up.”
He looked at the knights below who were clearing the battlefield and said, “If one knight died, this ambush is not considered a success.”
Yoen froze at his words.
“Are you… serious?” His mind couldn't process it for a moment.
His first reaction: this person is showing off.
But he didn't dare to say it.
Yoen recalled the entire battle, from the ambush's setup, to the control of the battle's rhythm, to the restraint of the Boiling Blood frenzy.
If it were him or that arrogant and impulsive Zachary, and their knights encountered this group of madmen…
He even suspected that they wouldn't even have time to react before being pulverized into meat paste by those lunatics.
Annihilation.
This word lingered in his mind.
Are these the enemies we will encounter later?
Duke Edmund clearly intends to push the pioneering lords from the south into a pit of corpses!
Yoen swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing.
He had only thought before that Louis was just a bit stronger than them, had some brains, knew how to use people, and could arrange formations.
But now he understood, this was not just “a bit” of a difference; it was a world of difference.
It was the level of suppressing them, hanging them up and beating them, digging pits in the battlefield three days in advance waiting for them to jump in.
It was simply not on the same scale.
A thought suddenly popped into Yoen's mind, firmer than ever before:
He had to cling to the strong, and cling tightly.
He stood up abruptly, patted off the dust, straightened his back, and stood beside Louis with a serious expression: “Boss, are you short on money?”
“Shut up.”
“Understood!”
Yoen immediately shut his mouth, smiling, chest out, head held high, standing beside Louis.
Looking like “I am your most loyal subordinate.”
At this moment, Louis stood at the cliff edge, gazing down at the blood-stained battlefield below, silent for a moment.
Even though the battle was won, a hint of lingering fear still rose in his heart.
If not for the Daily Intelligence System's warning, if not for setting traps and arranging battle lines in this canyon in advance.
Even if Red Tide could win, it would have to pay a bloody price.
“The Snowsworn's Boiling Blood frenzy is too dangerous,” he murmured softly. “If every future battle requires facing such lunatics, then it will truly be troublesome.
I must quickly find a way to deal with these types of warriors.”
Just then, footsteps came from below.
It was Lambert, covered in blood, with a corner of his armor broken and a diagonal scar on his shoulder, but his expression was normal.
He walked to Louis's side and knelt on one knee: “My Lord, the battle is over, the enemy is completely annihilated.”
Louis nodded, saying with an approving tone: “Well done, Lambert.”
Lambert looked up, calmly saying: “It was my duty.”
He paused for a moment, then asked: “How should we deal with the enemy's bodies?”
Louis looked at the blood-soaked ground in the valley, his voice cold: “Cut off their heads, not one left behind. Wash them clean and put them in sacks.
I will send them to Earl Firth as a gift.”