Chapter 235 - 110: Pale Elegy: How Lively

Chapter 235: Chapter 110: Pale Elegy: How Lively

In an instant, arrows rained down and flashes of Magic lit up the battlefield. Bursting Fireballs, unleashed from Magic Scrolls, even blasted out, exploding amidst the Blue Scarves, who were still reeling from the vicious battle they had just endured.

At the same time, the main gate of Red Ridge Castle boomed open.

"Kill—!!"

Raymond led the charge, storming out of the gates on a Skeleton Warhorse.

Before him were two roaring Bronze-Armored Zombies. Behind him followed the Zombie Corps and the Skeleton Corps, flanked by the Skeleton Cavalry.

Dwarf Warriors brandishing War Axes, centaurs drawing their bows, and even goblins piloting Mechas that chugged and belched black smoke followed close behind, surging toward the Blue Scarves with overwhelming force.

To the utter despair of the surviving Blue Scarves, the dense sound of grating bones and low, guttural roars echoed from the ruins behind them.

They turned to see a dense mass of Skeleton Soldiers pouring out from the ruins outside Red Ridge Castle, surrounding them in mere moments. A few exceptionally tall zombies were even visible among them.

Pincered from the front and rear, and completely surrounded.

How could the Blue Scarf forces, having just survived the chaos of the Flame Demon, possibly withstand this? Their morale instantly collapsed.

"Break out! Everyone, follow me and break through!" Angus roared himself hoarse. "All who can still move, charge with me! We’ll carve a bloody path out of here!"

He led the charge himself, shield in one hand and heavy sword in the other. With his three hundred-plus men, he charged into the encirclement of Skeletons like the tip of an arrow.

With Angus leading the way, the surviving Blue Scarf Soldiers seemed to find their backbone. They instinctively followed Angus as their banner, launching a desperate charge in the same direction.

Raymond and Lynch’s Undead Corps immediately put up a "valiant" resistance, and the two sides clashed in a fierce slaughter amidst the ruins.

Battle cries, bloodcurdling screams, and the crunch of shattering bone filled the air.

Angus’s unit was indeed valiant and fearless. They "actually" managed to tear an opening in the Sea of Skulls and lead the Blue Scarves in a breakout.

"After them! Don’t let them get away!" Raymond bellowed from the rear, feigning panic as he directed his troops to give chase.

And so, a drama of pursuit and escape unfolded at the foot of Red Ridge Mountain.

The remnants of the Blue Scarves cast aside their armor and fled for their lives. Behind them, Raymond’s garrison and Undead Corps gave chase at an unhurried pace, occasionally surging forward to take a "bite" and leave a few dozen more bodies behind.

The pursuit continued for several miles until they entered a region of complex, hilly terrain. As the sky began to dim, Raymond "reluctantly" gave the order to stop the chase and withdraw to the castle.

Meanwhile, Angus continued to lead his remaining troops in a mad dash. He didn’t stop until the sky was pitch black, finally taking refuge with his men in a sparse forest.

By now, the forces with him numbered less than a thousand.

Over three hundred were his own men; the rest were the battered remnants of various other Blue Scarf units. Nearly every soldier was wounded, their spirits crushed, looking like frightened birds.

Angus immediately ordered them to make an emergency camp on the spot.

He personally assigned sentries, designated defensive zones, organized teams to treat the wounded, distributed rations and water, and constantly worked to soothe frayed nerves and boost morale.

"Brothers, no matter what, we survived."

"We’re all in the same boat now. Only by uniting as one can we survive these chaotic times. Only then will we have a chance to fight our way back, avenge our fallen brothers, and reclaim everything we’ve lost."

His superb command and the fact that he had personally led the charge had already won the hearts of the men.

Among these leaderless remnants, still reeling from a crushing defeat, Angus Fisher had unknowingly become their de facto commander.

Following Angus’s reassurances, the camp gradually settled down, with everyone quietly licking their wounds.

After Barton finished a headcount of his Personal Guard, his expression suddenly changed. He began to anxiously weave through the crowd, his eyes darting everywhere.

"Brad? Where’s Brad? Has anyone seen Brad?"

The strong, simple, and honest young man who dared to stand up for his commander at a critical moment had left a deep impression on him. Barton genuinely liked the new recruit and had even been planning to groom him properly after the war.

Unfortunately, though he searched several times and asked many people, he found no sign of Brad.

Finally, he could only let out a frustrated sigh, smashing his fist into a nearby tree trunk. His spirits sank.

Angus, who was discussing their next move with a few officers nearby, saw the whole thing.

His gaze darkened, and he sighed inwardly.

’Of course, he knew where "Brad" had gone.’

’That young Necromancer, as cunning as a fox, was probably already in Red Ridge Castle, drinking and celebrating their victory with his senior.’

* * *

In stark contrast to the oppressive, sorrowful atmosphere of the Blue Scarf camp, Red Ridge Castle was a scene of jubilation.

Although the entire Red Ridge Territory was now a wasteland, save for the castle itself...

Regardless, they had won.

By now, night had fallen.

In a cleared space before the castle’s main gate, bonfires blazed, the wood burning fiercely with a constant CRACKLE.

The dwarves brought out barrels of ale, the goblins busied themselves roasting food, and the air was filled with coarse laughter.