My Players Are So Fierce

818: 279.

If our iron hoofs keep moving forward…

818: 279.

If our iron hoofs keep moving forward…

The terrain of Crimson Castle was plains.

Apart from some hills nearby, there weren’t many mountains, and this vast expanse of flatland once shaped Transylvania into its most prosperous region.

However, the incessant disasters had caused it to wither increasingly.

On the other hand, waging war on a piece of land that had been repeatedly ravaged had its advantages: it meant that the fighting sides no longer needed to consider more, they could just enjoy the slaughter.

In the distance, the Nocturne Enchantment of Crimson Castle was recovering, illuminated by the Creation of the Star Realm above, emitting a purple glow.

One could see the crimson enchantment had already gathered two-thirds, enveloping most of the city ruins and preventing the murky stream of the Jackal-man Vanguard from easily crossing the terrain guarded by the brave.

However, the remaining third facing the west side was still fraught with tense war efforts, the chaotic and violent tide of the Jackal People assaulting their last hope of breaching the city.

Once the Nocturne Enchantment closed once again, they would forever lose the chance to step foot in there.

But like the tide crashing against the rocks.

No matter how frantically they raged, they could not advance any further.

The width of the battlefield was just so, and the numerical superiority of the Jackal People couldn’t be brought to bear as the Nocturne Enchantment gradually closed.

“The Vampires have already won,”

the Grey Vulture Knight Valande put down his telescope.

This crude yet valiant knight looked towards the distant battlefield with dissatisfaction and complained to his companions, who were ready for battle:

“We arrived too late.

I had hoped to do a favor for that sly Murphy, but now, even without us, they can still hold their ruined city.”

“Look on the bright side, my lord,”

said a Winged Cavalry captain as burly as Valande, grinning:

“This proves that the Blood Vulture Clan, despite suffering heavy damage, is still strong.

Hasn’t the Earl already decided to form an alliance with them?

In making alliances, who would want to partner with cowards and weaklings?

In light of the approaching Black Disaster, the stronger they are, the better for us.

It’s like two weak wolf packs merging together to dominate the forest again.”

“What’s there to celebrate about becoming the Wolf King of Transylvania in its wretched state?”

On the other side of Valande, his wife, who was only half a head shorter than him and resembled a “giant,” Lady Sunny, put up her braids and fastened her winged war helmet on her head, taking the fierce long-hafted warblade for mounted combat in hand.

She said disdainfully:

“Be it them or us, we’re all lone wolves licking our wounds now.

The first step to rebuilding a wolf pack is to fight another round when both sides are weak in order to select the Wolf King.

They are stronger than us, and yet you think this is good news…

Tsk, foolish men.”

The disdain from the Winged Cavalry’s think tank made the surrounding knights incredibly uncomfortable.

Well, as descendants of a mix of Highlanders and Barbarians, the Xico Winged Cavalry inherited the bravery and strength from both, but intelligence seemed to have never belonged to them, nor did they feel they needed it.

Just like their brains!

They weren’t without them, just too lazy to use them, so they remained ninety percent new and of such high quality, exceptionally smooth enough to ensure any bit of knowledge could slide right off the surface of their brains without leaving a trace of wisdom.

“Mount up!

Prepare to charge!”

The embarrassed Grey Vulture Knight couldn’t lash out at his wife, not only because she was currently carrying their first child but also because he was a good husband who respected his wife.

Well, of course, it also had a little to do with the fact that he probably couldn’t win against her in a real fight.

Lady Sunny was a prodigy among the Xico Wing Cavalry.

Her combat skills and horsemanship were personally taught by the previous Count Xico, who was also the Commander of the Cavalry.

And as a Priestess of the Highlander heritage, Lady Sunny could also use some ancient Natural Psychic Power combat skills, which made her one of the outstanding figures among the remaining Winged Cavalry.

However, a smart woman would never embarrass her man in front of others, so Lady Sunny quickly mounted her horse and pulled down the visor of her helmet to cover her face.

Valande patted his warhorse “Chillwind.”

He stepped into the stirrup, mounted, and took his favorite lance from his Knight Apprentice.

Because of his staggering height of 2.5 meters, his three-meter long lance still appeared as a mere stick in his hands.

A standard Winged Cavalry not only carried a lance for charging but also a long warblade for slashing, two armor-piercing hammers in the horse’s satchel, and after the reform by the previous Cavalry Commander, the originally ranged armor-piercing crossbows were replaced with more practical short-barreled bombardment guns.

On special missions, like the horrific tactic of 500 knights charging into a horde of 20,000 Jackal People tonight, they would also carry extra alchemical bombs in the horse’s satchel to cause damage on the charge and cover for a retreat.

The warhorse had to carry all these weapons, and the warhorse itself was armored, which was evidence enough that these Winged Cavalries’ mounts only looked like horses…

Internally, they were almost entirely something else.

In the ancient legends of the Highlanders, these “Shadowmane” warhorses are said to trace back to the Elves of the Castilla Peninsula.

According to these dubious legends, these warhorses were tamed by Elf Druids in a special way specifically for Elf Rangers to ride.