Chapter 36: The Second Wave of Assault

The second row of flares lit up the night sky once more. This time, the werewolves had learned their lesson; as soon as the brightness changed, they swiftly dropped to the ground, while the higher-ranking ones shielded their eyes and used the power of darkness to completely block their vision. Thus, the effect of the flares was much weaker, only slowing down the advance of the werewolf army.

However, the defenders on the White City’s defensive line had already dealt with the elite werewolves that had rushed in. With their hands free, they immediately seized the opportunity to strike at the outer ring of werewolves. The mercenaries’ marksmanship was both ruthless and cunning, almost every shot hitting a vital spot. Although the werewolves’ defenses were quite strong, they were busy resisting the flares, making it impossible for them to protect all sides.

The second wave of attacks was precise and fierce, causing waves of blood to erupt in the ranks of the werewolves. The werewolf warriors fell at an astonishing speed.

A particularly tall werewolf count watched with a livid face, finally bellowing to the heavens. Hearing his roar, the werewolf warriors turned and retreated to their attack positions. Only a few, whose ferocity was fully unleashed, refused to retreat and continued charging, but they immediately became targets and were shattered to pieces in an instant.

“Why are you retreating?” A vampire count appeared on the attack position, roaring at the werewolf count.

The werewolf count, not to be outdone, pointed at the decimated troops and roared back, “You didn’t tell us about those damn flares! And where was your support fire when my kind were charging?”

The vampire count frowned, saying, “They have aerial gunboats, and our heavy artillery has suffered heavy losses and can’t be brought in. Didn’t you know that?”

“Can’t be brought in? Look up. Do you see any of their gunboats? Where is our fleet? Didn’t your kind dispatch a massive fleet? Where are they?”

The vampire count narrowed his eyes, saying, “The space battle is not within our jurisdiction. You did poorly in the initial battle, go explain it to Duke Pratt yourself!”

A low growl rumbled in the werewolf count’s throat. “Because of you, this white-skinned bat, so many of my kind have died. And you want me to explain? Should I explain to your corpse?”

The vampire count’s face slightly changed, and he took a step back, shouting, “What do you want to do? The second order will come soon. If you kill me, your kind will be doomed!”

The werewolf count’s eyes glinted with malice, and his claws sprang from his fingertips, about to strike. Suddenly, a voice said, “Huntmane, stop. The duke’s order has come down. Incorporate your forces under my command and continue the assault. As for this fool, he should explain to the duke why he lost most of the heavy artillery.”

Appearing before them was an even taller werewolf, with long, flowing brown hair, and a high-rank aura that suffocated the vampire count. The vampire count managed a reluctant bow and hurriedly left, not daring to say another word.

The werewolf count Huntmane gritted his teeth, saying, “If it weren’t for him…”

The marquis cut him off, saying, “It’s meaningless to talk about this now. We must capture the position without the cover of heavy artillery. The good news is that the humans don’t have gunboats either.”

“Were they taken out?”

The marquis snorted, saying, “Those fools in the mobile fleet couldn’t have done that. Unless the human warships were right in front of them, they’d never hit anything. If it weren’t for two entire grand duke fleets being wiped out by the humans a while ago, we wouldn’t be in this situation. The human commander is very clever; he anticipated my arrival and withdrew the gunboats.”

The gunboats of the Neutral Grounds may not excel in other areas, but they are exceptionally sturdy, with thick armor added. Normal force guns cannot harm them. However, at the rank of count or marquis, the small gunboats would not withstand their long-range firepower. Having just suffered a loss from the gunboats, the dark races naturally came prepared for this next attack.

This time, the werewolf marquis brought several force ballistae, which, under his own enhancement, could launch giant arrows capable of piercing through the gunboat’s armor. But Song Zining had preemptively moved all the gunboats into the void, rendering the air defense ballistae useless.

At that moment, a blood-red signal flare rose in the distance. Seeing the glaring crimson, the werewolf marquis found it particularly blinding. He snorted, saying, “That fool Pratt, does he really think the vampires are doing this out of kindness?”

He turned to the werewolf count, saying, “I’ll give you fifteen minutes to reorganize your troops. Launch the attack half an hour later!”

Huntmane asked, “Will it still be just my warriors?”

“Of course not, Pratt’s private army has arrived. But this time, he won’t find it easy to claim the credit.” The werewolf marquis looked toward the nearby White City, his eyes gleaming with a deep light.

Huntmane suggested, “If he wants the glory, let his men go first?”

The marquis said, “It can’t be too obvious, after all, his rank is higher. After the attack order is given, everyone advances together. Just make sure your tribe’s young ones don’t get too wild and reckless.”

“I understand.” Huntmane turned and left.

The marquis stood on high ground, watching the massive army march toward the designated attack position, a faint sneer on his face. “Song Zining is in the city. To catch him alive, some sacrifice is necessary.”

A short while later, Huntmane hurried back, reporting, “The troops are all ready.”

The marquis nodded, summoning his personal guard and instructing, “Give the order, attack in ten minutes!”

The personal guard, upon hearing this, transformed into a wolf-like combat form and ran off. Huntmane, filled with hot blood, wanted nothing more than to howl at the sky. He took a large step, eager to rush into the battlefield.

But before he could take a single step, someone grabbed him by the scruff of his neck.

“Where are you going?”

Huntmane’s eyes flashed with killing intent, saying, “To the front lines, of course. I want to snap the necks of those despicable humans with my own hands!”

The marquis calmly said, “You’re not allowed to go.”

“Do I have another task?”

“No task, just stay here and watch.”

Confused, Huntmane asked, “Why?”

The marquis spoke meaningfully, “Although that escaped demon scum didn’t say anything useful, I feel that there must be one person in the White City: Qian Ye. He is Pratt’s rival, and we shouldn’t get involved.”

Despite Huntmane’s bravery, he was greatly surprised. “Qian Ye?”

The marquis’ face darkened, saying, “Although that fool tried to hide it, I suspect he likely fell in rank, and his injuries seem to be from life essence drain. This is a powerful innate ability of the ancient blood race, and besides Qian Ye, no other blood kin has awakened this ability.”

“Life essence drain… the ancient blood race? Isn’t that just a legend the vampires use to boast?”

The marquis smiled silently, saying, “Although the vampires love to boast, they are indeed very powerful. From past battle records, Qian Ye’s ability is very similar to life essence drain, though even the vampires themselves haven’t confirmed it yet.”

Huntmane’s combative blood slowly cooled. “If I recklessly charge to the front lines, I’ll become Qian Ye’s target. Maybe…”

“There’s no maybe. Even if I encounter Qian Ye, if I can’t defeat him in the first round of attacks, I’ll have to think about how to escape. Otherwise, I’ll likely die in battle.”

Huntmane was shocked, having never expected the marquis to rate Qian Ye so highly. His face grim, he silently stood aside. If Qian Ye was as terrifying as the marquis said, his presence in the front lines would be meaningless.

On the vast battlefield, the strong warriors in the ranks were meant to control the key points of the fight. But if the power balance was one-sided, it was meaningless, and it would be better to use a sea of cannon fodder.

By the light of the burning fires on the battlefield, one could see the dark races’ warriors densely gathered, like a mass of marching ants, slowly crawling toward the White City’s defensive line.

In the air, streams of fire crisscrossed, like showers of meteors, crashing into each other’s positions, followed by intense explosions. Dark race warriors were frequently thrown into the air, limbs and flesh flying alongside the flames. This was the mutual bombardment of the heavy artillery.

The human defenders had well-constructed positions, with many warriors hiding behind cover, waiting for the cannonballs or ballista shots to pass before emerging. On some front lines, mercenary snipers would occasionally fire at the incoming projectiles, exploding them mid-air.

The human casualties were not significant, but the dark races were different. Song Zining placed immense importance on supplies and had prepared an astonishing number of heavy artillery pieces. The White City was not large, and the combined forces of Darkflame and the neutral ground mercenaries numbered only around fifty thousand. Yet, Song Zining had amassed over five hundred heavy artillery pieces.

On such a confined battlefield, the density of the firepower was simply overwhelming. High-ranking dark nobles could only intercept a fraction of the cannonballs, despite their best efforts.

Higher-ranking nobles, unlike the werewolf Huntmane and the marquis, either hid behind the lines or refused to waste their energy intercepting the heavy artillery. To them, the loss of cannon fodder was not a concern, as there were countless others to be conscripted across the endless continents of Evernight.

The dark races’ heavy artillery, mostly destroyed by the gunboats, was completely outmatched in firepower. The dark warriors lacked sufficient cover, leading to far greater casualties than the humans. However, the dark races relied on overwhelming numbers in their lower ranks, and this time was no exception. The sheer number of troops made it impossible to halt the advance.

Among the attacking forces, not only werewolves, but also large servitor spiders and elite spider demon warriors were present. At the center of the formation, a mountainous spider demon marched, each step causing the ground to tremble.

The foremost dark warriors had already charged through the artillery line, stepping over the corpses of their comrades, and entered the final distance for the last charge. The White City’s mercenaries were firing desperately from their cover. However, compared to the overwhelming tide of dark forces, their firepower seemed thin.

A middle-aged mercenary lay in a trench, aiming his force rifle with a calm expression, carefully choosing his target. The force rifle could only fire a few shots, and he could not afford to waste them. Soon, his sights locked onto a clearly larger werewolf, obviously a leader. Among the dark races, werewolves and spider demons, the stronger ones tended to be larger when in combat.

Before he could pull the trigger, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his foot and then lost consciousness. Glancing down, he saw a fist-sized black spider crawling on his leg, its powerful jaws biting through his combat suit and injecting venom into his flesh.

The mercenary’s face changed drastically, but he overcame his nausea and fear, slapping the spider to a pulp. It was then that he noticed a strange, subtle rustling sound. This sound, masked by the din of the battlefield, was only noticed now.

Feeling something strange beneath his feet, he used the next explosion’s light to see the ground and was shocked to jump up!

Everywhere, there were spiders of all sizes, seemingly endless.

The middle-aged mercenary, experienced, quickly calmed down after the initial panic and began stomping on the spiders, crushing them. Despite their intimidating size and quick movements, these spiders were essentially no different from ordinary ones, and could be easily killed with a stomp.

As he continued stomping, his movements suddenly slowed, and he fell backward, unmoving.

The swarms of spiders quickly covered his body, and the sound of their gnawing made one’s teeth clench. Soon, the middle-aged mercenary was reduced to a skeleton, his flesh devoured. The spiders, now larger, continued to crawl deeper into the position.

Chaos erupted across the front line, with soldiers falling one after another, and the survivors screaming and stamping in hysteria.