My Players Are So Fierce

1382: 466.

Undead: It’s inhumane to burn us like this!

_3

1382: 466.

Undead: It’s inhumane to burn us like this!

_3

His pale face was full of shock as he said to a descendant beside him:

“Transia has mastered the power of Heavenly Fire, it’s truly shocking.

They’ve really set the swamp aflame!”

“We might consider trying to learn how to make this weapon.”

A descendant of Vista narrowed his eyes and suggested softly:

“We know that these incendiary devices are manufactured in Transia’s armory, perhaps we could steal the formula and infiltrating that place would be a cakewalk for the Night Walkers.

I think His Highness Andrei and Wolf Queen Majesty would need this war art.”

“Or perhaps, we can try to accomplish this in a more peaceful manner.”

Vista glared at his descendant, looking at the flames burning continuously in the distant night, lighting up the sky, he said:

“His Highness wants to maintain a good relationship with the Blood Vulture Clan, so we cannot sabotage it on our own.

Fortunately, the Black Disaster is approaching, as long as Lord Morphy continues to use these weapons, we will have the opportunity to access them.

And remember!

The dignity of the Wolf Queen Majesty is one aspect.

The will of Count Andrei is another aspect.

Our Highness is like a young wolf mustering the courage to leave the den, he will start his growth and tale in the perilous wilderness.

We are loyal to His Highness!

After he makes up his mind, we too must begin to distance ourselves from the old days.

Once the Court’s orders come through, do you know what to do?”

“Yes, I understand, rest assured, elder.”

The descendant nodded seriously:

“The will of His Highness is our direction forward!

But those hundred royal guardsmen are not easy to handle, they are absolutely loyal to the Wolf Queen.”

“Hmph, let’s see if they survive the Black Disaster first.”

Vista waved his hand dismissively, pulling up his mask, he said:

“Continue the operation now!

Take advantage of the chaos to assassinate those Necromancers and Netherworld Knights escaping from the fire.

Lord Morphy’s warriors will advance to Plaguetown, all this supported by intelligence from the White Mountain Faction.

Our lord is also making his own mark!

Transia’s victory will also be the victory of the White Mountain Faction, this time, we won’t concede so easily.”

—

The sharp sound of the beeping incendiary bomb accelerating through the air until its final plummet mixes agitation and overwhelming pressure into fear.

Even for the so-called “ever-fearless” undead, fear doesn’t simply vanish.

It only transforms into more tangible effects, such as overly consumed Spiritual Energy by a skilled Necromancer under great stress.

And when they are in the midst of fleeing and breaking out, such unexpected events can easily lead to worse outcomes.

“Boom”

Another bomb fell from the sky and struck the undead stronghold to the west, the rising flames engulfing everything in a bird’s-eye view, lighting another fiery blossom.

The bombing operation was nearing its end, with sporadic flames resembling flowers scattered across the battlefield that extended outward from the core at Plague Town, completely dismantling the defenses crafted over several years by the Jackal Warlocks.

Yet the number of undead actually killed was insignificant; it wasn’t enough to cripple them.

However, the precise bombings targeting command nodes had paralyzed the entire system, and the concurrent advancement on the three-front battlefield added a perfect full stop to tonight’s operations.

A “Necromancer” rode on his luxuriously adorned skeletal horse.

With a look of helplessness and disbelief, he glanced back at his outpost that was now swallowed by flames—a scene completely different from the muddy combat with the living he had envisioned.

He instinctively felt like he had stepped into an unknown territory, yet there wasn’t much time left for him to ponder.

As a former soldier, he knew he must retreat immediately to avoid being encircled by the enemy infantry.

He took his meticulously crafted skeletal minions into the swamp, planning to rapidly return to the last line of defense at Plague Town from another direction, where two Mage Towers provided defense that wasn’t easily breached.

Just regather there, and within a few days, they could recover the defensive lines!

They had plenty of undead to command, whereas the enemy’s soldiers dwindled with each death.

Ha, the advantage is still mine!

But before this “Necromancer” could find his way back to Plague Town, a sharp, bizarre, and rhythmic sound of some musical instrument began to echo from the swamp’s shadows on the flank.

The flames and bombings tonight severely disrupted the flow of Spiritual Energy in the swamp, dulling the “Necromancer’s” senses more than before.

He only had time to issue a defense command when several hand grenades were hurled and landed near his minions’ feet.

Despite the intense explosion, the “Necromancer” remained unscathed and managed to spot the attacker’s position.

He then charged through the gunpowder-filled mud, planning to approach and end the battle with a fierce Cloud of Corrosion.

However, as he emerged from the barrage, he saw a young man dressed in the Cadman People’s Army uniform crouching on a rock ahead, giving him a thumbs up.

And in front of that guy, there was a black metal tube being adjusted by others.

What is this thing?

This thought flashed through the “Necromancer’s” mind, followed by a deep roar.

After a perfect parabolic trajectory, a white phosphorus bomb plunged into the muddy water behind him and then burst into sparkles.

“Ha, Old Qin’s aiming technique he taught is quite useful, I think I’ve mastered it now!”

Threejin Sweet Potato Burn, who had just been resurrected this evening and joined the fight, pushed his helmet, satisfied watching the “Necromancer” struggle painfully inside the “fireworks”, and then marked another tally in his notebook.

This was his second notable “prey” of the night.

“Sweet Potato, Sweet Potato!

This is Tomato, bring your tube over here, the forward outpost hasn’t been completely burned down, there’s still a group of resistant Netherworld Knights and their minions.

We need your firepower support!

Old Qin gives you five minutes to get here, or face military discipline.”

His teammate “A Can of Tomato Sauce” shouted in the squad’s communication, making Sweet Potato Burn smirk, he then picked up the tube and rushed towards his teammate’s location.

He was still a novice in the game.

Both his level and combat skills were poor, but he no longer feared fighting these dangerous entities.

He was a warrior inheriting the grand tradition of martial virtue from the art students!

Now, all the fiery chaos in front of him was part of his war too.