After the explosion, the canyon fell into a brief silence.
The next mont, wails intermittently echoed from deep within the ruins.
"Help... help... ugh..."
"My leg... Ahhh!"
"Don't go near that black mist! Cough, cough cough..."
The sounds, filled with heart-wrenching terror, drifted through the thick smoke and resonated in the empty valley.
The air was filled with the sll of char, blood, and a foul odor like a mixture of sulfur and rotting flesh.
So knights' armor was corroded with holes, sticky with flesh and blood, unable to even scream, only able to open their mouths and spit out foam and blood.
So rolled on the ground, desperately trying to crawl up, half their bodies charred, half frostbitten, skin peeling off in chunks, revealing bleeding muscle and pale white bones underneath.
Half of a war wolf's body was blown apart, its intestines dragging in the snow, yet it was still twitching unconsciously, its paws scrambling, seemingly still searching for its already charred master.
The entire valley seed to have been dragged into hell.
And all of this was the result of Louis's prior planning, the outco of intelligence foresight and precise calculation.
Bond stood on the high ground, looking down at the valley floor, his throat tightening, his mind a blank.
He had participated in many wars and seen the tragic battlefields where bodies piled up like mountains.
He had also witnessed firsthand the scene of even more powerful Magic Bombs detonating on the battlefield.
But this was the ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) first ti he had seen such a precise, efficient, thorough, and almost no-survivor thod of using Magic Bombs in conjunction with traps.
"Is this... hell...?" Bond murmured.
This was not an explosion; it was a well-planned execution.
It was as if, before the battle, it had already been planned where every piece of a corpse should fall.
Bond turned to look at the perpetrator beside him.
That man stood calmly, simply gazing down, with even a hint of a smile in his eyes.
Like a playwright admiring his own work.
"What is this...?" Bond asked with difficulty.
Louis turned, blinked: "Magic Bomb."
He spoke in a relaxed tone, as if introducing a favorite toy: "I call it Ice and Fire Double Heaven."
Bond's Adam's apple bobbed, and he swallowed: "A formidable Ice and Fire Double Heaven."
As he said this, his eyes remained fixed on the burning scorched earth at the bottom of the valley.
A seemingly mild-mannered young man could actually do such a thing.
This young noble was too terrifying.
Bond was not the only one who was shocked and afraid.
Yoen stood rooted to the spot for a long ti, not moving.
He stared wide-eyed at the dead silence in the valley, as if still unable to accept the reality before him.
Those were eight hundred Snowsworn elites; were they just obliterated in a few minutes?
"This, this is too outrageous..."
He murmured, his throat dry, cold sweat streaming down his back.
But after the shock, a strong sense of relief rose within him.
Thank goodness!
Thank goodness he followed Louis.
Yoen thought of the tragic state of Snow Eagle City, the mountains of corpses and seas of blood, the heads hanging on the city walls, and countless cries...
He hadn't seen it with his own eyes, but just hearing about it had given him nightmares for several nights.
If it hadn't been for Louis, if he hadn't mindlessly raised his hand and followed Louis to Qingyu Ridge at that ti.
He would probably be a corpse in Snow Eagle City by now.
Yoen looked at the back not far away, his heart heavily shaken.
"I can never repay the boss's kindness in this lifeti..." he whispered, his gaze more resolute than ever before.
He must cling tightly to Louis's leg!
The surrounding knights and soldiers also fell silent, and their gazes towards Louis quietly changed.
It was no longer simple obedience, nor ordinary respect.
It was imnse awe.
It was an emotion that only arose after witnessing a "miracle."
When the poisonous mist had dissipated a little, the heavy sll of char still lingered in the air.
Louis stood on the edge of the valley entrance, looking down at the snow-covered land consud by war.
His expression was calm, his tone normal: "Knights, put on your protective leather masks and clear the battlefield. Be careful of residual poison gas and any stragglers."
"Yes!"
The Red Tide Knights moved quickly, each putting on a protective mask made of animal hide and herbs, forming ranks and dispersing, holding long-handled weapons, steadily stepping into the outer periter of the valley.
The ground beneath their feet had been blasted into pits, and charcoal and blood had congealed into a layer of black mud, stepping on it felt like treading into a rotting mire.
The cleanup went very smoothly.
This eight-hundred-strong elite Snowsworn unit was originally known for its high mobility and strong coordination.
After witnessing the hellish scene, they were no longer well-trained warriors, but just a group of beasts fleeing in panic.
Now, fewer than a hundred could barely stand, and each of them was ntally broken and physically exhausted.
Although there were still stragglers attempting to counterattack.
A few Snowsworn who could still move stumbled together, trying to rally their last bit of morale, waving their war blades, and charging towards the Red Tide Knights' defensive line.
"Charge!"
"For the Oath—"
Their shouts were cut short, pierced by long spears, the sound of their throats tearing drowned in blood.
Without unified command, without the determination to win, how could they resist the Red Tide warriors?
Their uncoordinated counterattack against the Red Tide Knights' tight formation was like an egg hitting a rock.
"Don't kill ! I surrender!"
"Please..."
Cries for help echoed in the valley, but no one answered.
The Red Tide Knights simply advanced calmly, like reapers, harvesting every last bit of remaining resistance.
Many enemies had also been driven mad by the Magic Bomb.
They sat paralyzed on the ground, disheveled, curled into a ball, muttering to themselves, their eyes vacant.
Towards these enemies, the Red Tide Knights also showed no rcy, directly cutting off their heads with a single blow, giving them a quick end.
With the Red Tide Knights' final charge, the battlefield fell silent.
After half an hour of fighting, the last enemy soldier collapsed, his blood staining the valley's soil.
"Cleanup complete!"
"Enemy annihilated!"
Hoarse and excited shouts erupted from the dust.
The soldiers raised their weapons, their long-suppressed emotions finally breaking free.
"We won!"
"Long live Lord Calvin!"
They excitedly gathered around Louis, their eyes filled with respect and fanaticism.
Originally, they thought this was a battle to the death.
Eight hundred Snowsworn elites against two hundred defenders, even if they fought to the last, they might not be able to hold out.
They had ntally prepared themselves to risk their lives for this battle.
But they never expected that this fierce offensive and defensive battle, which they had imagined so grimly...
Would end so easily.
The enemies died too quickly, so quickly that it felt unreal.
But the wreckage on the ground and the lingering poisonous mist told them: this was reality.
They had survived, and they had won easily.
And the one who brought all this about—
Was the calm young baron standing on the valley, his eyes indifferent.
Calvin Louis.
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