The mountain wind whistled through the dense forest, carrying a choking stench of corpses that assailed them.
Weil held his breath for a long while, then finally lowered his voice and said, "Oh my god, is that the Brood Mother? It's... it's too disgusting."
He spoke softly, but his voice trembled uncontrollably, as if he feared disturbing the silent, writhing world in the valley below:
Below the hillside was a gaping chasm, as if the earth had been torn open.
Sunlight could not penetrate the tree canopy, leaving only an eerie, dim light that outlined a colossal, living shadow that squird like a creature.
The Brood Mother was nestled in the deepest part of that shadow.
It resembled a massive beehive or a festering organ, perched on the mud, its surface covered in a pale, resin-like shell, each subtle pulsation accompanied by a sticky, wet sound.
The shell was embedded with the distorted remnants of human faces, mostly adult males, their expressions twisted and struggling,
As if eternally frozen in agony, sealed within a nightmare-like amber.
And in the open space near it, rows of Worm-Eaten Household moved slowly.
So of these Worm-Eaten Household were once humans, so were once demonic beasts, and so could vaguely be identified as forr knights.
Their eyes were hollow, their steps uniform, as if pulled by an invisible thread, moving in synchronized motions to lift and cast corpses into the gaping fissures of the Brood Mother.
It was like a ritual of the dead.
Silent, repetitive, endless.
It wasn't a battlefield; it was more like a theater of sacrifice.
No one could speak.
Even Duke Edmund, seasoned in battle and accustod to bloodshed, frowned slightly. He stood beside Louis, gazing at the sight that defied all reason, a rare expression of solemnity in his eyes.
He patted Louis's shoulder, as if advising him, "I don't think this is sothing you should be dealing with."
The Duke's tone was not a reprimand, but advice. He had already co to recognize this young man, and in most cases, he already regarded him as a future pillar of support.
But having never seen such a thing, he didn't know if even his own peak Formal Knight strength could contend with it, let alone the few knights under Louis's command.
He had intended to persuade him further, even considering ordering a forced retreat.
But when he turned his head, he saw no hesitation in Louis's eyes as he looked at the Brood Mother; instead, it was as if he was surveying a city awaiting siege.
The young man's expression was focused, his gaze fervent—a light possessed only by those who are certain of "victory."
Edmund had wanted to say more, to persuade him to abandon this dangerous gamble, but he ultimately remained silent.
It wasn't a bad thing for this high-spirited youth to suffer a bit of a setback.
Who among the young hasn't been slapped by reality a few tis before learning true caution and experience?
Besides—he was already ridiculously stronger than most people.
Louis and his team were positioned on a secluded hillside about two li away from the Brood Mother, obscured on three sides by the forest.
To ascertain the Brood Mother's scale before it spread, Louis had led the assault team at noon, traveling day and night until this evening.
Finally, they reached this "heart" built of decay and fear.
"Prepare."
The wind still howled on the hillside, stirring up fallen leaves and dust,
But Louis's voice was as steady as a rock, without the slightest ripple. He narrowed his eyes, looking at the massive nest body surrounded by Worm-Eaten Household, and slightly raised his right hand, his fingertips trembling.
The knights hidden in the forest all held their breath, gripping their specialized throwing spears—weapons specifically designed with magic-exploding cores, capable of tearing through rock and incinerating armor.
Louis waved his hand.
"Fire!"
The next mont, several streaks of cold light whistled out from the shadows, tearing through the sky, aiming directly at the Brood Mother!
The air seed to rip apart, and a piercing shriek entered their eardrums.
The long spears, trailing dazzling red light, shot towards the massive black-red nest body like fiery teors descending from the sky.
However.
"Smack!"
A thick, jet-black tentacle suddenly shot out from the Brood Mother's surface, striking the flying spear with a heavy blow, knocking it and its explosive light to the ground.
Boom! Fire erupted, but only burned a shallow pit at the outer edge of the valley entrance.
Imdiately after, a second, a third, and countless tentacles oozing with a Fishy sll sticky fluid burst from the Brood Mother's skin.
Like a disturbed deep-sea monster, they writhed wildly, forming a suffocating defensive line, intercepting all incoming throwing spears.
"Tsk." Louis narrowed his eyes, muttering softly.
And just as the echoes of the explosion had not yet subsided, a sickeningly strange sound ca from the bottom of the valley.
"Gurgle—gurgle gurgle gurgle—gah!"
An Worm-Eaten Household, which had been neatly queuing and throwing in corpses, suddenly stopped moving.
Their heads snapped to the side, and the unnaturally joined bones in their necks emitted a creaking, writhing sound. Then, it began to twitch like an out-of-control puppet, uttering a low murmur that mimicked human language but was utterly incomprehensible.
"Grumble—return—gurgle.—mother—"
Its fingers twisted and trembled, its feet retreated and rotated, as if struggling, yet also obeying so irresistible summons.
The next instant, as if a chain reaction had been ignited, hundreds of thousands of Worm-Eaten Household corpses simultaneously convulsed violently.
Humanoid Worm-Eaten Household began to howl, their voices a mixture of screams and cheers.
Demonic beast-shaped Worm-Eaten Household began to prostrate themselves on the ground, their tongues dragging and writhing.
Even so half-rotted knight remains raised their broken swords high, turning their heads in unison towards the hillside.
Pairs of cloudy, white-fild eyes, without warning, fixed on the distant observers.
It wasn't a roar, nor a call, but the echo of so collective command.
They suddenly beca agitated, pushing and biting each other, rushing desperately from the valley floor up the slope.
Their formation was chaotic, their movents twisted, but they carried a chilling fanaticism.
A pure, frantic impulse for group slaughter!
"Disturbance Team Knights, full advance."
Louis's command was calm and firm, like a piece of ice thrown into an abyss.
As the battle flag waved, several knight squads erged from both sides of the forest, five n per squad.
Burning with red battle qi, they rode their warhorses like fiery teors, charging along both sides of the valley floor, instantly disrupting the writhing, black-mist-like swarm of Worm-Eaten Household.
"Primarily disrupt the enemy, no head-on clashes!" The captain at the front roared his order.
Hooves flew, dirt sprayed.
The Red Tide Knights skillfully galloped around the outer periter of the Worm-Eaten Household, each approach accompanied by sweeping throwing spears, hurled oil bottles, and piercing long spears.
Each strike tore open a chaos of bodies and pus, yet they never overextended, all quickly retreating, but accidents always happened.
"Ugh!"
A low growl suddenly rang out. A young knight in the front squad was half a beat too slow, his shoulder struck by a greatsword swung by an Worm-Eaten Household. He and his horse tumbled to the ground, rolling into the mud.
That was no ordinary corpse.
In life, it had been a knight of the Northern Elite Legion. After death, it was devoured by the Brood Mother, yet it still retained the muscle mory of marching.
Its body was stiff as iron, yet it could accurately swing its sword and bite like a beast, with imnse strength.
"Sven!" a teammate on the side shouted, but there was no reply from the man.
As soon as he fell, the Worm-Eaten Household sward him, engulfing him, his armor bitten through, his flesh torn.
However, what was astonishing was that a broken Worm-Eaten Household, after having its legs severed, crawled with its two broken forearms.
Its teeth tightly gripping the ground, it darted out like a snake, pouncing again on the hind leg of another knight's warhorse.
"Damn it!" Another knight quickly flipped over and leaped back, throwing a short spear to pin it to the ground, barely avoiding the fatal strike.
But what was even more terrifying was yet to co.
A gurgling, explosive sound suddenly ca from within the body of a slain Worm-Eaten Household. A swollen, sac-like organ burst from its abdon.
Spraying a large amount of green-black corrosive liquid, which hissed as it splattered on the ground, even eroding the rocks.
At the sa ti, hundreds of translucent parasites surged out of the exploded body cavity, rising like smoke,
Writhing frantically and burrowing in all directions.
"Face masks! Fully sealed!"
"Hold your breath! Don't expose your breathing holes!"
The prepared commander roared his orders. All the knights pulled down their sealed face masks while continuing to swing their long spears.
Their armor lted from the corrosive insects, and they growled, but their eyes remained resolute and clear; not a single one was controlled by the swarm.
No one fled.
Everyone, amidst roars, charged, circled, retreated, and charged again, ti after ti!
Battle qi burned furiously, transforming into raging red flas on the bodies of {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} every Red Tide Knight!
Fear was suppressed with every thrown spear.
Rage burned with every fallen comrade.
The Worm-Eaten Household was like a flood, and the Red Tide Knights were like fire.
Constantly disrupting, drawing, and harassing, forcing the Worm-Eaten Household around the Brood Mother to gather outwards.
It was a "luring the enemy" operation bordering on death.
But they succeeded.
When the first rays of the setting sun penetrated the forest and illuminated the valley floor, the shadows in front of the distant Brood Mother had thinned.
Large numbers of Worm-Eaten Household had been lured to the outer circle by the Red Tide Knights, mindlessly chasing and roaring around them, yet they could never extinguish this elite fla.
Duke Edmund stood at the edge of the rock, his gaze fixed on the column of red-clad knights moving through the black tide in the valley.
He did not speak, but the tremor in his brows was almost impossible to conceal.
This was not a training exercise, nor a show.
It was an enemy-luring battle treading the edge of hell.
And they executed it so cleanly.
Precise coordination, steadfast formation, and calm execution moving back and forth between life and death—
Even though they were just "Formal Knights," not a single one fled, not a single one was consud by fear!
Even as comrades fell beside them, even as the Worm-Eaten Household relentlessly pursued and bit, those knights only roared, gritted their teeth, and charged again!
Edmund was astonished by the discipline of the knights under Louis. He hadn't even established his territory for two years, and with such ager foundations, had he already forged such a team?
He turned to look at the silent Louis beside him. The young man wore a deep red cloak, his posture straight, his face unmoved.
It was as if those charging were not soldiers, but pieces on his chessboard, steadily advancing the ga he had set.
And Louis stood steadily in the wind, gazing forward, his eyes as calm as a mirror.
"Very good," he murmured, "Continue, prepare for the second phase."
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