Gesitu, noticing the shift in momentum, took over the conversation, “Why waste more words? I am here now, and with us working together, do you think you can still charge through here?”
Whether it was an illusion or not, the corners of the face on Hai Mi’s mask seemed to curve slightly, revealing a hint of a cold smile. She said calmly, “Originally, I had only a thirty percent chance, but you appeared too late. That idiot of a demon descendant has already been severely wounded by my three arrows, leaving him with, at best, seventy to eighty percent of his original strength. What puzzles me is that he hadn’t seen me before, but we had crossed paths once. Why did you watch from the sidelines for so long and only made your move so late?”
Sen’s expression changed immediately. Up until Gesitu revealed himself, Sen had not noticed anyone nearby, clearly indicating that Gesitu had deliberately hidden his tracks.
Gesitu retorted angrily, “Back then, you were just a little girl. How could you be the same as now?”
“A little girl managed to hold her ground against you for quite some time, didn’t she?”
Gesitu knew that explaining would only make things worse, so he opened his hands, and blood-red light shimmered at his fingertips, shouting, “Enough talk! Let’s settle this with our fists!”
But as he spread his hands, he suddenly saw another arrow appear on Hai Mi’s longbow. This arrow was entirely black, as if it could absorb all light. It could only be noticed by comparing the changes in the surroundings.
Gesitu’s hair stood on end, and he exclaimed, “The seventh arrow!”
Before his cry faded, the black arrow had already left the bowstring, appearing behind Gesitu in an instant.
Gesitu let out a scream, making an extremely complex evasive maneuver, and dashed away, completely ignoring Sen and the vast army below at the fortress.
Sen was momentarily stunned, never expecting the situation to turn so abruptly.
Hai Mi removed her mask, revealing a face almost indescribable. She looked no more than twenty, with no signs of the years on her face. However, this beautiful face was now pale, unclear whether from being hidden behind the mask for too long or from some injury. But the two streams of blood running down from the corners of her eyes, though hauntingly beautiful, also indicated that her condition was far from good.
She turned to look at Sen and said, “Do you know why I removed my mask?”
Sen’s expression was grave, knowing it couldn’t possibly be for any romantic reason. He asked, while fully alert, “Why?”
“I mentioned earlier that I only had a thirty percent chance of fighting through, but after wounding you, it became a sixty percent chance.”
Sen grew even more cautious, “And then?”
“Then? If I go all out, it becomes one hundred percent!” The smile on Hai Mi’s face vanished as she slowly drew another arrow.
Sen was utterly shocked!
Even though he knew that Hai Mi’s seventh arrow must have come at a significant cost, and she only had two arrows left, Sen had no intention of finding out how powerful those remaining arrows were. If even Gesitu had fled after a single confrontation, he didn’t want to risk his life here either.
“Wait a moment!” Sen quickly raised his hands, trying to say something.
But Hai Mi ignored him, drawing her bow to full length.
Seeing the imminent danger, Sen no longer dared to bargain, turning and fleeing. Fortunately, Hai Mi did not release the arrow.
With both Gesitu and Sen retreating, the morale of the dark race troops below could be imagined. The imperial vanguard chose this moment to halt their attack, and the Evernight forces were immediately busy, with the garrison troops withdrawing in tiers.
The empire did not interfere, nor did they pursue. The immediate goal of the eastern army was to complete the convergence, not to kill the dark race soldiers. The opposing forces were well-organized but lacked a commander. Pursuing a few extra heads might provoke them to fight to the death, which would delay the campaign indefinitely.
Hai Mi stood with her bow, watching as the Evernight forces retreated, and said, “Go.” Then she turned and flew back into the warship.
Before returning, she put her mask back on, concealing her emotions once again.
The eastern army of the empire resumed its journey, rolling through the defensive line and advancing along the edge of the floating land.
In the central route, the situation was different.
Zhao Jundu divided his forces into several waves, alternating their assaults. In every battle, he led from the front, boosting the morale of his troops. Each soldier fought to the death, and they advanced like a hot knife through butter, heading straight for White City.
Since Zhao Jundu had taken the field, the empire placed great importance on it. Duke Wego personally commanded the central army, serving as its pillar. When Duke Doel appeared, Duke Wego naturally stepped in to engage him, battling from the ground to the sky.
Without the support of a duke-level powerhouse, the Evernight forces could not withstand the assault of the imperial central army, mainly composed of the Zhao clan’s private army. Line after line of defenses were breached, and the entire middle region of the floating land was fragmented. If not for the natural barrier of the Misty Forest, the dark race’s defenses might have been shattered even more.
In a series of fierce assaults, Zhao Jundu displayed another side of his prowess, previously overshadowed by his formidable individual martial skills. In battlefield command, he was now on par with the empire’s top generals. His instinctive awareness of the weak points in the Evernight defenses often led to their collapse with a single strike.
On the other hand, many Evernight soldiers now felt that the floating land’s fate was sealed, and each thought about how to escape, with no will to fight, and their resolve to defend was not firm.
However, a few strategists felt that Zhao Jundu’s tactics were somewhat reckless. He pushed his troops relentlessly, disregarding the loss of manpower and the surrounding conditions, driving them forward without any flanking maneuvers.
Fortunately, Zhao Xuanji continued to manage the logistics, sending supplies to the central army. Wherever Zhao Jundu’s forces advanced, they were unstoppable, making strategic advice unnecessary. Two teams, drawn from Zhao Xuanji and Zhao Wei Huang’s guard, were specifically tasked with securing the flanks of Zhao Jundu’s forces.
Thus, the central route was virtually under the control of the Zhao clan, while the eastern route was dominated by the imperial family. The remaining noble families, including the Qingyang Zhang, were squeezed into the western route.
This peculiar arrangement puzzled many, who sensed that the imperial family and the Zhao clan seemed to have too much influence.
While the imperial family and the royal guard typically served as the vanguard in national wars, the Floating Land campaign had not yet reached that level. Additionally, the royal territory was mostly in Qin Land, and the old and frail Longevity King was in charge. If the empire lost a Celestial King and the Evernight seized the opportunity to attack, the imperial family would still need to hold the line. Diverting too much to the Floating Land would leave the homeland vulnerable.
White City, in just one day, had been transformed beyond recognition. Almost all the buildings of any height were destroyed, and any obvious targets were obliterated by the Evernight heavy artillery.
The city had become a wasteland, with corpses covering the ground, making it impossible to see the foundations or the soil. Thick smoke still billowed, but the flames had dimmed; there was little left to burn in the city.
From the start of the offensive, Rommel had gone nearly mad, pouring all his heavy artillery shells into the city. This relentless bombardment had indeed been effective, destroying a large portion of the heavy artillery that Song Zining had carefully prepared. Luckily, the ammunition was nearly depleted, so Qian Ye and Song Zining weren’t too upset.
They had no time to worry, as the dark army attacked immediately after the shelling ceased. In one day, Rommel’s forces launched eight attacks. Although they were all repelled, the signs of combat were visible everywhere in the city.
In the ruins of a house, Qian Ye leaned against a wall, quietly smoking, a rare luxury in the current battlefield.
Song Zining, covered in dust, emerged from somewhere, plopping down in front of Qian Ye, and groaned, “I’m exhausted! Where are these guys getting all these cannon fodder? Don’t they care?”
“How many people do we have left?”
“Hold on, give me a cigarette first. I’ve run out of mine.”
Qian Ye searched his pockets, finding nothing, and handed him the half-smoked cigarette. Song Zining, not caring, took it and inhaled deeply, saying, “I don’t know why, but I always want to smoke when I’m in a fight…”
After finishing the cigarette, Song Zining’s domain flashed and retracted, and he said, “We have about ten thousand people left. But the reserve force that hasn’t been used is down to a few hundred. Their attacks are too frenzied, almost abnormal.”
“Only ten thousand?” Qian Ye knew the casualties would be severe, but hearing the specific number still brought a heavy weight to his heart.
Song Zining seemed to think differently, “After this battle, Dark Flame will probably go bankrupt.”
This time, Qian Ye and Song Zining had brought four million troops from the Neutral Grounds, leaving only a few thousand to guard the fleet. In just one day, the unit had suffered over half casualties, highlighting the ferocity of the battle. In the Neutral Grounds, such losses, whether attacking or defending, would usually lead to the collapse of an army.
In the chaotic battle, even Qian Ye and Song Zining could not protect the ordinary mercenaries, as they were too busy dealing with the dark race’s titled powerhouses, who swarmed like ants on an elephant.
Yet, thinking of over ten thousand warriors dying on this small piece of land, Qian Ye still felt a sense of unreality.
Song Zining, understanding his thoughts, patted his shoulder, saying, “Don’t think too much. This is war. We lost over ten thousand, but they probably lost three or four times that, not counting the spider and warg servants.”
The Evernight’s biggest headache was the human race’s reproduction rate, far surpassing most dark races. While the reproduction rate of servant troops was slower, they could not be trained to become high-ranking warriors or titled powerhouses. Though only a portion of humans could awaken Dawnforce, most could use weapons after some training, making them faster to replace as true warriors.
In battle, as long as the human race suffered fewer casualties than the dark race, it was generally acceptable. And in the defense of White City, the dark race’s casualties were several times those of the mercenaries, making it a glorious victory anywhere.
But Qian Ye’s furrowed brow did not relax.
On a distant warship, Rommel, looking at the casualty reports, felt as if a cloud of gloom was gathering above his head. After a long silence, he said, “So, we lost fifty thousand warriors in just one day?”
A count cautiously replied, “This includes the missing.”
“Worthless!!” With a slap, the report hit the count’s face.
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