Our Family Has Fallen

This situation was both a blessing and a curse for them, as the couple of hundred pikemen simply couldn't withstand the tide-like monsters that felt no pain or fear.

"Cavalry Squad, follow me to lead the enemy away and cover the main force!"

Reynard had noticed that these monsters were clearly drawn to the army, which echoed what My Lord had said earlier about how these pathogen-infected creatures' craving for Flesh was almost an instinctive pursuit. But when he had just tried to lead the Cavalry to draw a group of the monsters to the flank, he had failed. This indicated that something within the monsters was guiding them—otherwise, they wouldn't be able to follow a unified path and resist their instincts.

Reynard was forced to linger on the periphery, watching the monsters, trying to find the key to break the situation.

But the number of monsters was too vast, and they were of all sorts of odd types; finding a leader among them was easier said than done.

As the monsters and the army collided, Reynard's expression grew increasingly grave…

"Oh, just how many of them are there!"

Barton started to panic as well. Before, they had at least three thousand soldiers and dozens of cannons, but now they were down to three, and they were overheating. This gave him a feeling of helplessness, wanting to do something but unable to.

The immense pressure almost drove him to despair.

If I only had more cannons... I want to change this situation...

"Enough, you've done well enough. Leave the rest to us."

Balistan noticed Barton's reaction and patted the young man's shoulder as he passed, then walked towards the front.

"Hamlet Must Win!" Balistan raised his Morningstar Hammer and positioned his battle-scarred Shield in front of him, roaring at the incoming monsters.

This shout immediately resonated with the soldiers, who scrambled to shout the slogan.

Balistan's attitude lifted the downtrodden morale slightly, and the pikemen prepared to hold their ground, relying on the makeshift barricades constructed out of odds and ends.

The Musketeers were positioned on buildings at the farm to take the high ground, continuing to shoot and weaken the monsters as much as possible.

However, the cannons, now of little use, had been dragged to the rear to cool down, their muzzles aimed at the farm gate, ready to be fired in case they could no longer hold the monsters back.

"Kill!"

The monsters rushed forward even before the pikemen could thrust their spears. Indeed, the pike was the most suitable weapon for infantry in the era of melee weapons. As long as one had some strength and could stand firm, it could keep the enemy at bay.

Unfortunately, even though the soldiers thrust valiantly, it was still difficult to cause direct casualties.

The charging infected beasts wanted to tear and scratch at the soldiers, and the stumbling mushroom-heads extended their mutated claws, dripping with pathogens.

These could still be temporarily held back by the spear formation, but the Quadraped Fungus Cannons that drew near directly spewed out a massive amount of thick spores, charging towards the army formation.

The problem remained a lack of intelligence; most of them did not know what these were, their understanding of the monsters limited to previous encounters.

Caught off guard, many soldiers inevitably inhaled the spores, succumbing to nausea, vomiting, and debilitating coughs that left them weak.

Meanwhile, these spores sent the infected creatures into a frenzy. Under their mad charge, the previously invincible spear formation was breached in an instant. If it weren't for the clutter serving as a barrier, it would have collapsed on first impact.

At that moment, an explosion rang out among the monsters. Those at the epicenter were blown to bits, scattering limbs and fragments within a three-meter radius. Even those five meters away were knocked down by the blast wave. This created a massive gap that the monsters couldn't fill even within two seconds.

This was not the work of a cannon, but the power of a bomb.

"Retreat! Bring back the injured!" Barton continued to throw bombs. The continuous explosions miraculously stopped the advance of the monsters, buying precious time for the frontline soldiers to fall back.

Barton's hand reached for the box, only to find that the bombs had already been used up.

They had only brought a few boxes with them during their escape, and between previous use and what they had just thrown, their stock was completely depleted.

And without the bombs, the monsters surged forward once again.

Balistan led the desperate defense at the front. His Shield slammed or pushed to fend off the monsters' attacks, while his Morningstar Hammer swung relentlessly, striking their bodies.

This old soldier exerted all his strength in an attempt to hold back the rapidly deteriorating situation, and the soldiers who still stood by his side, fighting for time for their comrades, were heroes who transcended fear.

But the harsh reality was that they were but fine sand on the seashore, utterly unable to resist the battering of the waves.

Sometimes reality does not shift with one's will…

The army resisted fiercely, trying to slow the monsters' advance, but it had little effect. The monsters were undoubtedly devouring everything in their path.

More and more soldiers were injured, their defensive lines largely shattered, and a collapse was becoming unstoppable…

Meanwhile, Dismas, who had been shooting from above, seemed to have noticed something. The recent explosion had ignited the piles of debris, and although the flames were sparse, they had cleared an area that the monsters seemed to intentionally avoid.

This discovery excited him immensely, and he couldn't help but shout to mobilize the Musketeers.

"The monsters are afraid of fire! Light those things up!"

The farm lacked many things, but the one thing it didn't lack was dry, flammable fodder.

"Make way! Make way! Everyone, clear out!"

They loaded carts with fodder and set them ablaze, flames soaring high. With several people pushing with all their might, the fire carts charged into the fray.

Balistan was already close to exhaustion, the soldiers around him falling one by one. The encircling monsters were nearly completing their formation, and the fear of impending death loomed over the last few stubbornly resisting soldiers.

Yet in this moment, the old soldier was not panicked. Instead, he did his best to cover the retreat of other soldiers, leaving himself in the most dangerous place.

A wolf-shaped infected creature madly bit into his leg. Despite his greaves, they couldn't stop the Wolf Fangs from piercing through into his calf.

"AH!" Balistan's cry was not one of pain, but a teeth-gritting effort as he swung his Morningstar Hammer, crashing it down on the wolf's head. Its pointed top pierced the wolf's skull, crushing it flat.

Although he had killed the monster, another one charged at him immediately, and then another, and another. Some even managed to penetrate his armor, constantly draining his Life Force.

Looking around, Balistan saw that those who could had already retreated. He had, at last, not failed My Lord's trust.

But he could no longer escape. Surrounded by monsters, Balistan did not fear death as they surged towards him; on the contrary, he felt a sense of relief.

Am I finally going to find peace in death?

BANG!

A gunshot sounded, and the monster that had pounced towards Balistan was shot in the head.

Hearing the commotion, Balistan looked back and saw three burning fire carts plowing directly into the crowd of monsters. Wherever they passed, the monsters panicked and dodged, and the carts also dispersed the spore mist that had permeated the area.

"Quick, go!"

With the three fire carts providing cover, Dismas led a squad to rescue the soldiers, including Balistan, of course.

After discovering that fire deterred the monsters, they formed a new defensive line based on this. The farm's fodder and lumber were piled up; even the cattle feeding troughs were dragged out, thrown on the ground, and set ablaze.

Threatened by the raging fire, the monsters at the front did not dare to advance, while those at the back crowded together, and tumult ensued within their ranks.

Seeing this, everyone breathed a slight sigh of relief; somehow, the crisis had been temporarily alleviated.

But just then, the commotion among the monsters calmed down. The creatures, which had previously charged mindlessly, now somehow knew to avoid the fire and attacked from another side.

The farm was only guarded by low earthen walls—the kind that could be toppled with a forceful kick. How could they possibly withstand the monsters' onslaught?

As expected, the walls were pushed over, and the monsters poured in. With the defensive lines stretched thin, this small number of soldiers could not possibly defend. It was too late even to light more fires.

The farm was indefensible...