"How many enemies do we have to face? One to fifty? One to a hundred? "
"This is suicide."
"We can't save the little Queen."
"Today is the day we die."
When the High Elves arrived at the location of the Nine Devil Rings, the thousand strong High Elves found themselves facing an army of over a hundred thousand undead.
Arkham and Manfred had mobilized their entire army. While Arkham was focused on the resurrection ritual, Manfred's three most elite troops, the Dunkenhoff Paladins (Undead Black Knights), Helmut's Personal Guards (Elite Grave Guards), and the Dunkenhoff Guards (Elite Grave Guards), were all ready for battle. Just these three elite troops alone were twice the number of the High Elves' troops.
In addition, Akhan also sent out Ju 'er. This super Corpse Daemon King was once again serving Nagash. The three elite graveyard guards under Ju' er were also prepared for battle. They were the Wrath Stone Lake's Skeleton Army, Calamity Army, and Underworld Army. These graveyard guards continued to serve Ju 'er.
The Nagashza Guards, the strongest High Elves army that had dealt a fatal blow to the High Elves in the battle of the Nagashza, were guarding the ritual site. Around them were the reserve troops of the undead army, the Underworld Knights.
The Underworld Knights were Man Frey's personal army. They only followed Man Frey's lead. Their proud history of serving the Von Karstein family could be traced back to the rise of the vampires in the Empire. During those days, they had received countless terrifying names on the battlefield. Dark magic surged around the knights, forming an aura of death and fear. When the knights silently lowered their spears, a cold light flashed from their empty eye sockets. This was usually the last thing the enemy saw.
In other words, the number of elite troops of the undead was ten times that of the High Elves.
For a moment, the entire High Elven army was silent. Every descendant of Ossouin knew that this was their last battle.
Azarion the Ruthless stood in front of the army. The bone-chilling wind of Sylvania blew past Prince Iris's armor and hair. It was very cold in Sylvania. There was no sunlight here all year round. The wind of the undead was boundless, and the lonely world was so bleak and desolate. The desolate scene of the end of the world sent chills down one's spine.
In the distance, the undead army was boundless. They were as numerous as the seawater surrounding Osuran. The soul fire spurting out of the Skeleton Warriors' faces from time to time was like raging waves crashing against the shore, battering the high elves' defenses one after another.
Every descendant of Ossouin couldn't help but sing the elegy of the High Elven Empire.
They were here to save the little Queen, but why was it only them? Why were there only a thousand of them?
Where was the army of the High Elves that swept the world?
Where were the legendary Phoenix Guards, the roaring Kaldor Dragons, the fleet of dragon ships that looked down on everything, the elegant and smooth High Elven Phalanx and the Giant Eagle Knights, the Charis War Lions and Magic Phoenixes?
Why were they the only ones left?
One thousand five hundred people against one hundred thousand, and against the dozens of layers of Undead Shield Wall, almost every Osurian Warrior was so sad that they couldn't speak. Many of them couldn't help but shed tears, and some even couldn't help but cry. They weren't afraid of death, but they were afraid of dying in vain. They were afraid of dying in silence. They were afraid that all their efforts would be in vain.
Assur above, how many more hardships does Assur have to go through? Why did the Gods treat us like this? What did we do wrong?
Even Princess Etilla and Bellannar the Wise couldn't help but waver.
"What are you crying for?" "My father, my family, they have all sacrificed their lives to protect Ossuan. We, the people of Iris, have guarded the sea for Ossuan for generations. Even in the most difficult times, even when the green-skinned king Gru destroyed Tar-Iris, we did not despair. We were willing to sacrifice our bodies and offer our strength to Ossuan. Everyone, what is there to cry about?" Everyone, Azarion was the only one who spoke coldly as he pointed his fanged sword at the sea of undead. "My father, my family, they have all sacrificed their lives to protect Ossuan. We, the people of Iris, have always guarded the sea for Ossuan. Even in the most difficult times, even when the green-skinned king Gru destroyed Tar-Iris, we never gave up hope.
All the High Elven soldiers were silent.
Seeing that there was still no response, Azarion continued, "Who am I? Everyone, tell me. "
"You are our commander, the Prince of Iris!" An High Elven Noble walked up and said loudly.
"Then, do you believe in your Prince?" Azarion was expressionless as he looked down at everyone.
"Your Highness, no matter what happens, your people will always follow you, no matter what the outcome is," the High Elven Noble said loudly.
"No matter what the outcome is?" Azarion repeated. He looked into the distance again. There were tens of thousands of Undead Army, thousands of Grave Guards, countless Skeleton Knights and Black Knights, and countless Undead Monster Troops, as well as Frey von Karstein and the Legendary Corpse Demon King Gul.
"We pledge our lives," all the High Elves shouted in unison.
Yes, even if they were outnumbered, even if they had no chance of winning, even if they were destined to die, how could the mere Undead stop Assur's pride? How could a mere battle deprive him of it?
Assur was disdainful!
Gradually, the High Elven Soldiers changed. They no longer cried and were no longer sad. The young High Elven Soldiers wiped away their tears and looked at the Undead with a resolute gaze. They were unafraid of death.
Azarion was gratified to see that Assur's morale was high. Every High Elven Warrior raised their weapons and saluted their commander. The army's front spread out like waves, and the pride of Assur rose on everyone's faces.
This was Assur!!!
The horn belonging to Iris had sounded. Even in the face of an Undead Army of over a hundred thousand, the sound of the High Elves' horn could still be heard clearly in the Cursed Land of the Undead.
They are all brave warriors, true brave warriors. Their blood and sacrifice will comfort the Gods, comfort all of Osuon, and also comfort us for everything we have done. Azarion proudly raised his Fanged Sword and gave a final military salute to everyone.
On top of the strong griffin, Wings of the Storm, the prince was as cold and emotionless as he had been for hundreds of years. The cold wind of Sylvania blew his hair and cloak. Even if it was fifteen hundred against a hundred thousand, even if the two reinforcements that were agreed upon didn't arrive, even if the human army had recklessly sent themselves to their deaths, Azarion's battle roar still made the Lich King Akhan and the last vampire Count Manfred tremble in fear while they were casting spells.
"Advance! Assur! "
"For the Phoenix King's Court, for Alissanda, for ~ Ossouin!!!"
Like a silver bolt of lightning exploding the dark clouds before a storm, the High Elves began their charge.
The Sons of Ossouin knew that this battle was certain death, but they did not care. Every High Elf sang the ancient battle song of the High Elven Empire. Wherever they passed, the Undead, monsters, and Specters all fell in front of the High Elven Warriors.
Bellannar the Wise led a team of Hus Sword Saints. Every time he swung the giant sword that was carefully forged in Val's Anvil, he could cut a large number of skeletons and ribs into pieces. There were not many Hus Sword Saints, but each of them could fight against ten High Elves. Their advance was almost unstoppable.
The Second Archmage's magic power was weakened in the terrifying environment of Sylvania, but Bellannar was still the greatest Archmage in all of Ossouin, second only to Tegris. Facing the black torrent that rolled towards him from all directions, Bellannar raised his hand and cast a Meteor spell. The scorching hot meteors bombarded the Undead Army, rumbling non-stop, smashing the Undead into pieces. The Undead that were squeezed together were smashed into pieces, and they howled miserably. However, there were just too many Undead. After a batch died, another batch rushed up.
At the same time, Bellannar had to fight against dozens of Necromancers by himself. The Second Archmage had to take care of close combat, casting spells, and suppressing the Wind of Magic at the same time. It was an extremely difficult challenge.
On the left wing of the front line was Princess Eidilah's Taranok Chariot Troop and the Knights' charge. The barren and dry land of Sylvania trembled under the trampling of the Elven Warhorses. The brave and fearless Princess Eidilah set off monstrous anger and surging waves that swept away all the Undead nearby. Every Elven Knight carried their own incomparable pride and swore to vent all their anger on the Undead.
The Elves were so brave and fearless that they almost broke through the Undead Army. When Princess Eidilah found that everything was going well, before she could report it, a large group of Graveyard Guards had already gathered. It was Gul. Gul and the two Graveyard Guard Legions under his command. When the sharp steel blades on the Taranok Chariot's wheels came in contact with these super-heavy armored units, sparks flew everywhere. A whole row of Graveyard Guards' knees were cut into pieces, but it also slowed down the chariot's speed. The Knights were unable to break through the shield wall formed by the elite Nether Walker Legion.
As soon as the momentum of the charge weakened, the ancient halberds pierced through the bodies of the Warhorses and the Knights' scales one after another. The chariot was forced to slow down. A bloodthirsty Batwolf rushed from the side and knocked the chariot over with its head. The chariot rider fell to the ground with his stomach cut open. Princess Eidilah encountered Gul. As soon as they fought, she knew that she was definitely not Gul's opponent. She could only pull the reins and signal for the Knights to spread out to the sides.
The one at the forefront was Azarion, the Prince of Aeris. He and his Gryphon Wings of Storm were at the very front. Every time the Gryphon flapped its wings, it would eliminate a strong enemy. Every time the Gryphon flapped its wings, it would sweep away the nearby spears and spears. The frail body structure of the Skeleton Warriors could not withstand the immense power of the Gryphon Wings of Storm and shattered like glass.
Following the gap created by Azarion, a team of Mistwalkers, Azorama's Oathbearers, bravely moved forward. As the personal guards of Azarion's late father, these Mistwalkers had failed to fulfill their duty to protect the Prince. They felt guilty for their failure and swore to make up for their mistakes by dying for Azarion. These warriors never lacked courage and determination to fight for their lives. They used their lances to pierce the skulls of the undead and used their sharp blades to cut open the bodies of the undead.
A team of Astari sentinels keenly noticed the Tomb Ghouls and Tomb Ghouls that appeared from the ranks of the undead. Under the leadership of their captain, they drew their bows and arrows. A rain of arrows like a swarm of locusts harvested these monsters that might stop the Elven Warriors from moving forward, so that they could maintain their momentum. These sentinels guaranteed Azarion's charge and advance, but they were soon surrounded by the undead. There was nowhere to run and no way to survive.
"We can only stop here, Your Highness. I wish you success." The sentinels burst out with the last of their courage and began to fight with the surrounding undead. These enemies were delayed so that their Prince and the Mistwalkers could maintain their momentum and advance.
Standing on the Ring of Nine Devils, Man Frey watched in disbelief as the High Elves with only a little more than a thousand people broke through several layers of the army and were about to kill their way to the Nagashza Guards, the Dunkenhoff Paladins, and the Dunkenhoff Guard Legion. The last Vampire Count was a little stunned. He looked at the scene of the ceremony and smiled at the Eternal Queen Alisala who was firmly bound by chains and magic. "Hey, our little Queen, look, your people are here to die. Aren't you happy?"
"Man Frey, you scum of the world." Alisala was still conscious at this time. The little Queen looked at the brave and fearless elves and the fire of hope in her heart that was already in despair was ignited. She knew Azarion, her father's best friend. Once he made up his mind, no one could stop him.
Perhaps, there was still a chance. Alisala glared at Man Frey and no matter how Man Frey provoked her, she did not say anything.
Man Frey suddenly felt very bored. To him, seeing other people in pain and despair was the greatest pleasure. He immediately focused his attention on Akerham. He saw that the Lich King had already taken out a dagger and sacrificed Archbishop Isabella of the Goddess of War. The boiling hot blood mixed with the power of faith was poured into the altar.
Archbishop Vickma was still cursing. His vocabulary of profanities seemed to be very good, as he didn't repeat any of them along the way. However, it was useless. He was now tied up with chains, wearing the Nagash's Armour, and carrying Nagash's severed arm. He was ready to accept the power of the Lord of Undead.
"Man Frey, it's your turn." Seeing that Azarion was getting closer and closer, Akerham's impatient voice sounded. "If you can't stop these elves and let them disturb the resurrection ceremony, everything will be over."
"… As you wish." Manfred glanced contemptuously at the little Eternal Queen, who was still stubborn. The vampire count knew that it was not a good idea for him to leave the ceremony now, because his plan was to disrupt the ceremony at the critical moment and directly absorb the power of Nagash. This would make him a demigod and be crowned as the Lord of Death.
However, just as Akerham said, if the resurrection ceremony was disrupted by the elves, then all his hard work would be for naught. This was not something that Man Frey wanted to see.
Under Akerham's repeated urging, Man Frey rode on his undead warhorse and led the Dunkenhoff Paladins, the Dunkenhoff Guard Legion, and the Netherworld Knights into the battlefield.
The addition of Man Frey was a fatal blow to Gao Jing. As a dual-elemental sacred archmage (Death and Undead) and a vampire leader of a family, Man Frey was well-versed in both magic and martial arts. This meant that if one wanted to fight against Man Frey, they would have to be able to deal with him at the same time. Not to mention, the Dunkenhoff Paladins, the Guard Legion, and the Netherworld Knights were elites that could overwhelm the entire battlefield in an instant.
If Alissanda still had some hope for the future before, then what the little queen saw next made her unable to stop herself from shedding muddy tears.
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